SIR ASINUS GOES TO THE BALL.
Upon the most moderate calculation, Sir Asinus must have tied his lace
cravat a dozen times before he finally coaxed his smoothly shaven chin
to rest in quiet grace upon its white folds. Having accomplished this
important matter, and donned his coat of Mecklenburg silk, the knight
took a last survey of himself in the mirror, carefully reconnoitred
the street below for lurking proctors, and then brushing the nap of
his cocked hat and humming his favorite Latin song, stepped daintily
into the street and bent his way toward the Raleigh.
Sir Asinus thought he had never seen a finer ball; for, to say nothing
of the chariots and coachmen and pawing horses and liveries at the
door--of the splendid gentlemen dismounting from their cobs and
entering gay and free the spacious ball-room--there was the great and
overwhelming array of fatal beauty raining splendor on the noisy air,
and turning every thing into delight.
The great room--the _Apollo_ famed in history for ever--blazed from
end to end with lights; the noble minstrels of the festival sat high
above and stunned the ears with fiddles, hautboys, flutes and fifes
and bugles; the crowd swayed back and forth, and buzzed and hummed and
rustled with a well-bred laughter;--and from all this fairy spectacle
of brilliant lights and fair and graceful forms arose a perfume which
made the ascetic Sir Asinus once more happy, causing his lips to
smile, his eyes to dance, his very pointed nose to grow more sharp as
it inhaled the fragrance showering down in shivering clouds.
Make way for his Excellency!--here he comes, the gallant gay Fauquier,
with a polite word for every lady, and a smile for the old planters
who have won and lost with him their thousands of pounds. And the
smiling Excellency has a word for the students too, and among the rest
for Sir Asinus, his prime favorite.
"Ah, Tom!" he says, "give you good evening."
"Good evening, your Excellency," said Sir Asinus, bowing.
"From your exile?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, well, _carpe diem_! be happy while you may--that has been my
principle in life. A fine assembly; and if I am not mistaken, I hear
the shuffle of cards yonder in the side room."
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, you Virginians! I find your thirst for play even greater than my
own."
"I think your Excellency introduced the said thirst."
"What! introduced it? I? Not at all. You Virginians are true
descendants of the cavaliers--those long-haired gentlemen who drank,
and diced, and swore, and got into the saddle, and fought without
knowing very accurately what they were fighting about. See, I have
drawn you to the life!"
Sir Asinus smiled.
"We shall some day have to fight, sir," he said, "and we shall then
falsify our ancestral character."
"How?"
"We shall know what we fight about!"
"Bah! my dear Tom! there you are beginning to talk politics, and soon
you will be rattling the stamp act and navigation laws in my ears,
like two pebbles shaken together in the hand. Enough! Be happy while
you may, I say again, and forget your theories. Ah! there is my
friend, Mrs. Wimple, and her charming niece. Good evening, madam."
And his Excellency made a courtly bow to Aunt Wimple, who was
resplendent in a head-dress which towered aloft like a helmet.
And passing on, the Governor smiled upon Miss Belle-bouche, and
saluted Jacques.
On former occasions we have attempted to describe the costume of this
latter gentleman; on the present occasion we shall not. It is enough
to say that the large tulip bed at Shadynook seemed to have left that
domain and entered the ball-room of the Raleigh, with the lady who
attended to them.
This was Belle-bouche, as we have said; and the tender languishing
face of the little beauty was full of joy at the bright scene.
As for poor Jacques, he was oceans deep in love, and scarcely looked
at any other lady in the room. This caused much amusement among his
friends who were looking at him; but what does a lover care for
laughter?
"Ah!" he says, "a truly Arcadian scene! Methinks the Muses and the
Graces have become civilized, and assembled here to dance the minuet.
You will have a delightful evening."
"Oh, I'm sure I shall!" says Belle-bouche, smiling.
"And I shall, because I am with you."
With which words, Jacques smiles and sighs; and his watchful friends
follow his eyes, and laugh more loudly than ever.
They say to him afterwards: "Well, old fellow, the way you were sweet
upon your lady-love on that occasion, was a sin! You almost ate her up
with your eyes, and at one time you looked as if you were going to
dissolve into a sigh, or melt into a smile. At any rate, you are
gone--go on!"
Belle-bouche receives the tender compliments of Jacques with a
flitting blush, and says, in order to divert him from the subject of
herself:
"There is Mr. Mowbray, entering with his sister Lucy. She is very
sweet----"
"But not----"
"And must be at our May-day," adds Belle-bouche, quickly. "Good
evening, Mr. Mowbray and Miss Lucy; I wanted to see you." With which
words Belle-bouche gives her hand to Lucy. "You must come to our
May-day at Shadynook;--promise now. Mr. Mowbray delivered my message?"
"Yes; and I will certainly come--if Ernest will take me," says Lucy,
smiling.
The pale face of Mowbray is lit up for a moment by a sad smile, and he
replies:
"I will come, madam--if I have courage," he murmurs, turning away.
"You must; we shall have a merry day, I think. What a fine assembly!"
"Very gay."
"Oh, there's Jenny----"
"A friend?"
"Oh, yes!"
And while this conversation proceeds, Jacques is talking with Lucy. He
interrupts himself in the middle of a sentence, to bow paternally to a
young lady who has just entered.
"Good evening, my dear Miss Merryheart," he says.
"Oh, sir! that is not my name," says little Martha, laughing.
"What is?"
"Martha."
"And are you not desirous of changing it?"
The girl laughs.
"Say, for Mrs. Jacques?"
"Oh!" cries Martha, with a merry glance and a pleasant affectation of
reserve, "that is too public."
"The fact is," replies Jacques, smiling, "you are looking so lovely,
that I could not help it."
"Oh, sir!" says the girl blushing, but delighted. Which expression
makes her companion--a youthful gentleman called Bathurst--frown with
jealousy.
Lucy is admiring the child, when she finds herself saluted by Sir
Asinus, who has made her acquaintance some time since.
"A delightful evening, Miss Mowbray," says that worthy; "and I find
you admiring a very dear friend of mine."
"Who is that, sir?" says Lucy, smiling.
"Little Miss Martha."
"She is your friend?"
"Are you not?" says Sir Asinus, bowing with great devotion to Martha;
"you caught me this morning, you know."
"Oh no, sir! you caught me!"
"Indeed!" cried Sir Asinus; "I thought 'twas the lady's part!"
And he relishes his joke so much and laughs so loud, that the girl
discovers her mistake and blushes, which increases her fresh beauty a
thousand-fold.
Sir Asinus heaves a sigh, and contemplates a declaration immediately.
He asks her hand for a quadrille instead.
"Oh, yes, sir!"
Whereupon Bathurst revolves gloomy thoughts of revenge in the depths
of his soul.
Sir Asinus, seeing his rival's moodiness, smiles; but this smile
disappears like a sunbeam. He sees Doctor Small approaching, and turns
to flee.
In doing so, he runs up against and treads on the toes of Mr. Jack
Denis, who laughs, and bowing to Lucy, presses toward her and takes
his place at her side.
Sir Asinus makes his way through the crowd, paying his respects to
every body.
He arrives, at length, at the door of the side room where the devotees
of cards are busy at tictac. He is soon seated at one of the tables by
the side of Governor Fauquier, and is playing away with the utmost
delight.
In this way the ball commenced; and so it went on with loud music, and
a hum of voices rising almost to a shout at times, until the supper
hour. And then, the profuse supper having been discussed with that
honorable devotion which ever characterizes Virginians, the dancing
recommenced, more madly than ever.
But let not the reader imagine that the dances of the old time were
like our own. Not at all. They had no waltzes, polkas, or the like,
but dignified quadrilles, and stately minuets; and it was only when
the company had become perfectly acquainted with each other, at the
end of the assembly, that the reel was inaugurated, with its wild
excessive mirth--its rapid, darting, circling, and exuberant delight.
Poor Sir Asinus! he had not been well treated by his lady-love--we
mean the little Martha. That young lady liked the noble knight, but
Brutus-like, loved Bathurst more. The worthy Sir Asinus found his
graces of mind and person no match for the laughing freckled face of
her youthful admirer, and with all the passing hours he grew more sad.
He ended by offering his heart and hand, we verily believe, in the
middle of a quadrille; but on this point we are not quite certain.
Sure are we that on this night the great politician found himself
defeated by a boy--this we may assert from after events.
In the excess of his mortification he betook himself to cards, and was
soon sent away penniless. He rose from the card-table feeling, like
Catiline, ripe for conspiracy and treason. He re-entered the ball-room
and strolled about disconsolate--a stalking ghost.
Just as he made his appearance a lady entered from the opposite door,
and Sir Asinus felt the arm of a gentleman, against whom he was
pressed by the crowd, tremble. He turned and looked at him. It was
Mowbray; and he was looking at the lady who had just entered.
This lady was Philippa.