_Before Supper the proceedings are rather decorous than
lively; the dancers in fancy dress forming a very decided
minority, and appearing uncomfortably conscious of their
costume. A Masker got up as a highly realistic Hatstand,
hobbles painfully towards a friend who is disguised as a
huge Cannon._
_The Hatstand_ (_huskily, through a fox's mask in the centre of his
case, to the Cannon_). Just a trifle slow up to the present, eh?
_The Cannon_ (_shifting the carriage and wheels to a less
uncomfortable position._) Yes, it don't seem to me as lively as
usual--_drags_, don't you know.
_The Hatstand_ (_heroically_). Well, we must wake 'em up, that's
all--put a little _go_ into the thing!
[_They endeavour to promote gaiety by crawling through the
crowd, which regards them with compassionate wonder._
_A Black Domino_ (_to a Clown, who is tapping the barometer on the
Hatstand's back_). Here, mind how you damage the furniture, SAMMY, it
may be here on the hire system.
[_The Hatstand executes a cumbrous caper by way of repartee,
and stumbles on._
_A Folly_ (_to a highly respectable Bedouin in a burnous and gold
spectacles_). Well, all I can say is, you don't seem to me to behave
much _like_ an Arab!
_The Bedouin_ (_uneasily, as he waltzes with conscientious
regularity_). Don't I? How _ought_ I to behave then?
_The Folly_. _I_ should have thought you'd jump about and howl, the
way Bedouins _do_ howl. _You_ know!
_The Bed._ (_dubiously_). Um--well, you see, my dear, I--I don't feel
_up_ to that sort of thing--_before_ supper.
_The Folly_ (_losing all respect for him_). No--nor yet after it. I
expect you've told some old four-wheel caravan to come and fetch
you home early, and you'll turn into your little tent at the usual
time--that's the sort of wild Bedouin _you_ are! Don't let me keep
you. [_She leaves him._
_The Bed._ (_alone_). If she only knew the absolute _horror_ I have of
making myself conspicuous, she wouldn't expect it!
_Mephistopheles_ (_to a Picador_). This was the only thing I could get
to go in. How do you think it suits me?
_The Picador_ (_with candour_). Well, I must say, old fellow, you _do_
look a beast!
[_Mephisto appears wounded._
_A Masker_ (_with his face painted brown, and in a costume of coloured
paper decorated with small boxes and packets, to a Blue Domino_). You
see what _I_ am, don't you? The Parcels Post! Had a _lot_ of trouble
thinking it out. Look at my face, for instance, I made _that_ up, with
string--marks and all, to look like a brown-paper parcel.
_The Blue Domino_. Pity you haven't got something _inside_ it, isn't
it?
_The Parcels Post_ (_feebly_). Don't you be too sharp. And it really
is a first-rate idea. All these parcels now--I suppose there must be
fifty of 'em at least--
_The Blue Domino_. Are there? Well, I wish you'd go and get sorted
somewhere else. I haven't time for it myself.
_Sardonic Spectator_ (_pityingly--to a Masker in a violent
perspiration, who represents Sindbad carrying the Old Man of the
Sea_). 'Ow you _are_ worrying yourself to be sure!
_A Polite Stranger_ (_accosting an Individual who is personifying the
London County Council by the aid of a hat surmounted by a sky-sign,
a cork bridge and a tin tramcar, a toy Clown and a butterfly on his
chest, a portrait of Mlle. Zoeo on his back, a miniature fireman under
an extinguisher, and a model crane, which he winds up and down with
evident enjoyment_). Excuse me, Sir, but would you mind showing us
round you--or is there a catalogue to your little collection?
[_The L.C.C. maintains a dignified silence._
_Pierrot_ (_critically to Cleopatra_). Very nice indeed, my dear
girl,--except that they ought to have given you a serpent to carry,
you know'
_Cleopatra_. Oh, they _did_--only I left it in the Cloak-room.
_A Man with a False Nose_ (_to a Friend who is wearing his natural
organ_). Why, I thought you said _you_ were coming in a nose?
_His Friend_. So I did (_he produces an enormous nose and cheeks from
his tail-pocket_). But it's no mortal use; the minute I put it on
I'm recognised (_plaintively_). And I gave one-and-ninepence for the
beastly thing, too!
_Young Man of the Period_ (_meeting a female acquaintance attired
in ferns, rock-work, and coloured shells, illuminated by portable
electric light_). Hul-lo! You _are_ a swell! And what are _you_
supposed to be?
_The Lady in Rock-work_. Can't you see? I'm a Fairy Grotto. Good idea,
isn't it?
_He_. Rippin'! But what the mischief have you got on your shoulder?
_She_. Oh, that's an aquarium--real goldfish. See!
[_Exhibiting them with pride._
_He_. Ain't you lettin' 'em sit up rather late? They _will_ be chippy
to-morrow--off colour, don't you know.
_She_. Will they? What ought I to do for them, then?
_He_. Do? Oh, just put a brandy-and-soda in their tank.
_Later; Supper is going on in the Boxes and Supper-room, and
the festivity has been further increased by the arrival of a
party of Low Comedians and Music-Hall Stars. The Lancers have
been danced with more abandonment, and several entirely new
and original figures._
_The Chevalier Bayard_ (_at the Refreshment Bar--to a Watteau
Shepherdess_). I say, you come along and dance with me, will you?--and
look here, if you dance well, I'll give you a drink when it's over. If
you don t dance to please me, you'll get nothing. See?
_The Watteau Shepherdess_ (_with delicate disdain_). 'Ere, you go
along, you silly ass!
[_Hits him with her crook._
_A Gentleman who has obviously supped_ (_catching hold of a passing
Acquaintance, whose hand he wrings affectionately_). Dear ole HUGHIE!
don't go away just yet. Shtop an' talk with me. Got lotsh er things
say to you, dear ole boy--mosh 'portant things! Shure you, you're the
on'y man in the wide world I ever kicked a care--cared a kick about.
Don't _you_ leave me, HUGHIE!
[Illustration: "Exit unsteadily towards Bar."]
_Hughie_ (_who is looking for his partner_). Not now, old man--can't
stop. See you later!
[_He makes his escape._
_The Affect. G._ (_confidentially--to a Policeman_). Thash a very
dear ole pal o' mine, plishman, a _very_ dear ole pal. Worsht of him
ish--shimply imposhble get a lit' rational conversation with him. No
_sheriousness_ in his character!
[_Exit unsteadily towards Bar, in blissful unconsciousness
that somebody has attached a large false nose and spectacles
to the buttons of his coat-tails._
_A Troubadour_ (_jealously--to an Arleguina_). No--but look here, you
might just as well say right put which costume you like best--mine
or--(_indicating a Cavalier on her other side_)--his.
_Arleguina_ (_cautiously--not desiring to offend either_). Well, I'd
rather be _him_--not as a _man_, I wouldn't--but, as _myself_, I'd
like to be _this_ one.
[_Both appear equally satisfied and soothed by this
diplomatic, but slightly mystic response._
_A Vivandière_ (_to a Martyr, who is shuffling along inside a
property-trunk, covered with twigs, and supposed to represent a
Bird in the Hand_). Well, that's _one_ way of coming _out_ to enjoy
yourself, I suppose!
_A Middle-aged Man_ (_wandering behind the Orchestra_). It's
beastly dull, that's what it is--none of the give-and-take
humour and practical fun you get in Paris or Vienna!... That's a
nice, simple-looking little thing in the seat over there. (_The
simple-looking little thing peeps at him, with one eye over her fan,
in arch invitation._) Gad, I'll go up and talk to her--it will be
something to _do_, at any rate--she looks as if she wouldn't mind.
(_He goes up._) Think I know your face--haven't we met before?
_The Simple Little Thing_ (_after an elaborate wink aside at a_
Fireman). Shouldn't wonder. Don't you run away yet. Sit down and
talk to me--do now. No, not _that_ side--try the arm-chair, it's more
comfortable.
_The M.M._ (_throwing himself gracefully into a well-padded chintz
chair_). Well, really--(_The chair suddenly digs him in the ribs with
one of its elbows_). Eh, look here now--'pon my--(_He attempts to
rise, and finds himself tightly pinioned by the arms of the chair._)
There's some confounded fool _inside_ this chair!
_The Simple Little Thing_ (_tickling him under the chin with her
fan_). Shouldn't call yourself names! I'm going--don't get up on
_my_ account. [_She goes off, laughing; a crowd collects and heartily
enjoys his situation._
_The M.M._ (_later--very red after his release_). If I could have
found a policeman, I'd have given that chair in custody! It's
scandalous to call _that_ coming in Fancy Dress! [_Exit indignantly._
* * * * *