CHAPTER XXXIII

Discouraged and disgusted as Ellis returned from this rehearsal, the sad

result of her reflections, upon all that had passed, and upon her

complicate difficulties, with her debtors and creditors, served but to

convince her of the necessity of perseverance in what she had

undertaken; and of patience in supporting whatever that undertaking

might require her to endure.

From the effects of a hard shower of rain, in which she had been caught,

while returning from the first rehearsal, she was seized with a

hoarseness, that forced her to decline her own vocal performance at the

second. This was immediately spread about the room, as an excess of

impertinence; and the words, 'What ridiculous affection!'--'What

intolerable airs!'--'So she must have a cold? Bless us! how fine!'--were

repeated from mouth to mouth, with that contemptuous exultation, which

springs from the narrow pleasure of envy, in fixing upon superior merit

the stigma of insolence, or caprice.

Ellis, who, unavoidably, heard these murmurs, was struck with fresh

alarm, at the hardship of those professions which cast their votaries

upon the mercy of superficial judges; who, without investigation,

discernment, or candour, make their decisions from common place

prejudice; or current, but unexamined opinions.

Having no means to obviate similar injustice for the future, but by

chacing the subject of suspicion, the dread of public disapprobation, to

which she was now first awakened, made her devote her whole attention to

the cure of her little malady.

Hitherto, a desire to do well, that she might not displease or

disappoint her few supporters, had been all her aim; but sarcasms,

uttered with so little consideration, in this small party, represented

to her the disgrace to which her purposed attempt made her liable, in

cases of sickness, of nervous terrors, or of casual inability, from an

audience by which she could be regarded only as an artist, who, paid to

give pleasure, was accountable for fulfilling that engagement.

She trembled at this view of her now dependent condition; and her health

which, hitherto, left to nature, and the genial vigour of youth, had

disdained all aid, and required no care, became the first and most

painful object of her solicitude. She durst not venture to walk out

except in the sun-shine; she forbore to refresh herself near an open

window; and retreated from every unclosed door, lest humidity, or the

sharpness of the wind, or a sudden storm, should again affect her voice;

and she guarded her whole person from the changing elements, as

sedulously as if age, infirmity, or disease, had already made her health

the salve of prudential forethought.

These precautions, though they answered in divesting her of a casual and

transient complaint, were big with many and greater evils, which

threatened to become habitual. The faint warmth of a constantly shut up

apartment; the total deprivation of that spring which exercise gives to

strength, and fresh air to existence, soon operated a change in her

whole appearance. Her frame grew weaker; the roses faded from her

cheeks; she was shaken by every sound, and menaced with becoming a

victim to all the tremors, and all the languors of nervous disorders.

Alas! she cried, how little do we know either of the labours, or the

privations, of those whose business it is to administer pleasure to the

public! We receive it so lightly, that we imagine it to be lightly

given!

Alarmed, now, for her future and general health, she relinquished this

dangerous and enervating system; and, committing herself again to the

chances of the weather, and the exertions of exercise, was soon, again,

restored to the enjoyment of her excellent constitution.

Meanwhile, the reproaches of Mr Giles Arbe, for her seeming neglect of

her own creditors, who had applied for his interest, constrained her to

avow to him the real and unfeeling neglect which was its cause.

Extremely angry at this intelligence, he declared that he should make it

his especial business, to urge those naughty ladies to a better

behaviour.

Accordingly, at the next rehearsal,--for, as the relation of Miss Arbe,

he was admitted to every meeting,--he took an opportunity, upon

observing two or three of the scholars of Ellis in a group, to bustle in

amongst them; and, pointing to her, as she sat upon a form, in a

distant corner, 'Do but look,' he said, 'at that pretty creature,

ladies! Why don't you pay her what you owe her? She wants the money very

much, I assure you.'

A forced little laugh, from the ladies whom this concerned, strove to

turn the attack into a matter of pleasantry. Lady Kendover alone, and at

the earnest desire of her niece, took out her purse; but when Mr Giles,

smiling and smirking, with a hand as open as his countenance, advanced

to receive what she meant to offer, she drew back, and, saying that she

could not, just then, recollect the amount of the little sum, walked to

the other end of the room.

'Oh, I'll bring you word what it is directly, my lady!' cried Mr Giles;

'so don't get out of the way. And you, too, my Lady Arramede; and you,

Miss Sycamore; and you, Miss Brinville; if you'll all stand together,

here, in a cluster, I'll bring every one of you the total of your

accounts from her own mouth. And I may as well call those two merry

young souls, the Miss Crawleys, to come and pay, too. She has earned her

money hardly enough, I'm sure, poor pretty lady!'

'O, very hardly, to be sure!' cried Lady Arramede; 'to play and sing are

vast hardships!'

'O, quite insupportable!' said Miss Sycamore: 'I don't wonder she

complains. Especially as she has so much else to do with her time.'

'Do you think it very agreeable, then, ladies,' cried Mr Giles, 'to

teach all that thrim thrum?'

'Why what harm can it do her?' said Miss Brinville: 'I don't see how she

can well do any thing that can give her less trouble. She had only just

to point out one note, or one finger, instead of another.'

'Why yes, that's all she does, sure enough,' said Miss Bydel, 'for I

have seen her give her lessons.'

'What, then, ladies,' cried Mr Giles, surprised; 'do you count for

nothing being obliged to go out when one had rather stay at home? and to

dress when one has nothing to put on? as well as to be at the call of

folks who don't know how to behave? and to fag at teaching people who

are too dull to learn?'

Ellis, who was within hearing, alarmed to observe that, in these last

two phrases, he looked full at Miss Sycamore and Miss Brinville, upon

whose conduct towards herself she had confidentially entrusted him with

her feelings, endeavoured to make him some sign to be upon his guard:

though, as neither of those two ladies had the misfortune to possess

sufficient modesty to be aware of their demerits, they might both have

remained as secure from offence as from consciousness, if her own quick

fears had as completely escaped notice. But, when Mr Giles perceived her

uneasiness, he called out, 'Don't be frightened, my pretty lady! don't

think I'll betray my trust! No, no. I can assure you, ladies, you can't

be in better hands, with respect to any of your faults or oversights,

for she never names them but with the greatest allowances. For as to

telling them to me, that's nothing; because I can't help being naturally

acquainted with them, from seeing you so often.'

'She's vastly good!'--'Amazingly kind!' was now, with affected contempt,

repeated from one to another.

'Goodness, Mr Giles!' cried Miss Bydel, 'why what are you thinking of?

Why you are calling all the ladies to account for not paying this young

music-mistress, just as if she were a butcher, or a baker; or some

useful tradesman.'

'Well, so she is, Ma'am! so she is, Mrs Bydel! For if she does not feed

your stomachs, she feeds your fancies; which are all no better than

starved when you are left to yourselves.'

'Nay, as to that, Mr Giles,' said Miss Bydel, 'much as it's my interest

that the young woman should have her money, for getting me back my own,

I can't pretend to say I think she should be put upon the same footing

with eating and drinking. We can all live well enough without music, and

painting, and those things, I hope; but I don't know how we are to live

without bread and meat.'

'Nor she, neither, Mrs Bydel! and that's the very reason that she wants

to be paid.'

'But, I presume, Sir,' said Mr Scope, 'you do not hold it to be as

essential to the morals of a state, to encourage luxuries, as to provide

for necessaries? I don't speak in any disparagement to this young lady,

for she seems to me a very pretty sort of person. I put her, therefore,

aside; and beg to discuss the matter at large. Or, rather, if I may take

the liberty, I will speak more closely to the point. Let me, therefore,

Sir, ask, whether you opine, that the butcher, who gives us our richest

nutriment, and the baker, to whom we owe the staff of life, as Solomon

himself calls the loaf, should barely be put upon a par with an artist

of luxury, who can only turn a sonata, or figure a minuet, or daub a

picture?'

'Why, Mr Scope, a person who pipes a tune, or dances a jig, or paints a

face, may be called, if you will, an artist of luxury; but then 'tis of

your luxury, not his.'

'Mine, Sir?'

'Yes, yours, Sir! And Mrs Maple's; and Mrs Bydel's; and Miss

Brinville's; and Miss Sycamore's; and Mrs and Miss every body's;--except

only his own.'

'Well, this,' said Miss Bydel, 'is curious enough! So because there are

such a heap of squallers, and fidlers, and daubers, I am to have the

fault of it?'

'This I could not expect indeed,' said Mrs Maple, 'that a gentleman so

amazingly fond of charity, and the poor, and all that, as Mr Giles Arbe,

should have so little principle, as to let our worthy farmers and

trades-people languish for want, in order to pamper a set of lazy

dancers, and players, and painters; who think of no one thing but

idleness, and outward shew, and diversion.'

'No, Mrs Maple; I am not for neglecting the farmers and trades-people;

quite the contrary; for I think you should neither eat your meat, nor

drink your beer, nor sit upon your chairs, nor wear your clothes, till

you have rewarded the industrious people who provide them. Till then, in

my mind, every body should bear to be hungry, and dry, and tired, and

ragged! For what right have we to be fed, and covered, and seated, at

other folks' cost? What title to gormandize over the butcher's fat

joints, and the baker's quartern loaves, if they who furnish them are

left to gnaw bones, and live upon crumbs? We ought all of us to be

ashamed of being warmed, and dizened in silks and satins, if the poor

weavers, who fabricate them, and all their wives and babies, are

shivering in tatters; and to toss and tumble ourselves about, on couches

and arm-chairs, if the poor carpenters, and upholsterers, and joiners,

who have had all the labour of constructing them, can't find a seat for

their weary limbs!'

'What you advance, there, Sir,' said Mr Scope, 'I can't dispute; but

still, Sir, I presume, putting this young lady always out of the way;

you will not controvert my position, that the morals of a state require,

that a proper distinction should be kept up, between the instruments of

subsistence, and those of amusement.'

'You are right enough, Mr Scope,' cried Miss Bydel; 'for if singing and

dancing, and making images, are ever so pretty, one should not pay folks

who follow such light callings, as one pays people that are useful.'

'I hope not, truly!' said Mrs Maple.

Mr Scope, thus encouraged, went on to a formal dissertation, upon the

morality of repressing luxury; which was so cordially applauded by Miss

Bydel; and enforced by sneers so personal and pointed against Ellis, by

Mrs Maple, Miss Brinville, and Miss Sycamore, that Mr Giles, provoked,

at length, to serious anger, got into the middle of the little auditory,

and, with animated gesticulation, stopping all the attempts of the slow

and prosing Mr Scope to proceed, exclaimed, 'Luxury? What is it you all

of you mean by luxury? Is it your own going to hear singing and playing?

and to see dancing and capering? and to loll at your ease, while a

painter makes you look pretty, if you are ever so plain? If it be, do

those things no more, and there will soon be an end to them! but don't

excite people to such feats, and then starve them for their pains.

Luxury? do you suppose, because such sights, and such sounds, and such

flattery, are luxuries to you, they are luxuries to those who produce

them? Because you are in extacies to behold yourselves grow younger and

more blooming every moment, do you conclude that he who mixes your

colours, and covers your defects, shares your transports? No; he is sick

to death of you; and longing to set his pencil at liberty. And because

you, at idle hours, and from mere love of dissipation, lounge in your

box at operas and concerts, to hear a tune, or to look at a jump, do you

imagine he who sings, or who dances, must be a voluptuary? No! all he

does is pain and toil to himself; learnt with labour, and exhibited with

difficulty. The better he performs, the harder he has worked. All the

ease, and all the luxury are yours, Mrs Maple, and yours, Miss Bydel,

and yours, ladies all, that are the lookers on! for he does not pipe or

skip at his own hours, but at yours; he does not adorn himself for his

own warmth, or convenience, but to please your tastes and fancies; he

does not execute what is easiest, and what he like best, but what is

hardest, and has most chance to force your applause. He sings, perhaps,

when he may be ready to cry; he plays upon those harps and fiddles, when

he is half dying with hunger; and he skips those gavots, and fandangos,

when he would rather go to bed! And all this, to gain himself a hard and

fatiguing maintenance, in amusing your dainty idleness, and

insufficiency to yourselves.'

This harangue, uttered with an energy which provocation alone could

rouse in the placid, though probing Mr Giles, soon broke up the party:

Miss Sycamore, indeed, only hummed, rather louder than usual, a

favourite passage of a favourite air; and the Miss Crawleys nearly

laughed themselves sick; but Mrs Maple, Miss Bydel, and Miss Brinville,

were affronted; and Miss Arbe, who had vainly made various signs to her

cousin to be silent, was ashamed, and retreated: without Miss Arbe,

nothing could go on; and the rehearsal was adjourned.

The attempt of Mr Giles, however, produced no effect, save that of

occasioning his own exclusion from all succeeding meetings.

The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 2 of 5) · 第 14 / 21 章