advanced to Cecilia. His dress was merely a long wrapping gown of green
stuff, a pair of red slippers, and a woollen night-cap of the same
colour; while, as the symbol of his profession, he held a rod in his
hand.
“Ah, fair lady,” he cried, “how soothing were it to the austerity of my
life, how softening to the rigidity of my manners, might I--without a
_breaking out of bounds_, which I ought to be the first to discourage,
and a “confusion to all order” for which the school-boy should himself
chastise his master--be permitted to cast at your feet this emblem of my
authority! and to forget, in the softness of your conversation, all the
roughness of discipline!”
“No, no,” cried Cecilia, “I will not be answerable for such corruption
of taste!”
“This repulse,” answered he, “is just what I feared; for alas! under
what pretence could a poor miserable country pedagogue presume to
approach you? Should I examine you in the dead languages, would not your
living accents charm from me all power of reproof? Could I look at you,
and hear a false concord? Should I doom you to water-gruel as a dunce,
would not my subsequent remorse make me want it myself as a madman? Were
your fair hand spread out to me for correction, should I help applying
my lips to it, instead of my rat-tan? If I ordered you to be _called
up_, should I ever remember to have you sent back? And if I commanded
you to stand in a corner, how should I forbear following you thither
myself?”
Cecilia, who had no difficulty in knowing this pretended schoolmaster
for Mr Gosport, was readily beginning to propose conditions for
according him her favour, when their ears were assailed by a forced
phthisical cough, which they found proceeded from an apparent old woman,
who was a young man in disguise, and whose hobbling gait, grunting
voice, and most grievous asthmatic complaints, seemed greatly enjoyed
and applauded by the company.
“How true is it, yet how inconsistent,” cried the white domino, “that
while we all desire to live long, we have all a horror of being old! The
figure now passing is not meant to ridicule any particular person, nor
to stigmatize any particular absurdity; its sole view is to expose to
contempt and derision the general and natural infirmities of age! and
the design is not more disgusting than impolitic; for why, while so
carefully we guard from all approaches of death, should we close the
only avenues to happiness in long life, respect and tenderness?”
Cecilia, delighted both by the understanding and humanity of her new
acquaintance, and pleased at being joined by Mr Gosport, was beginning
to be perfectly satisfied with her situation, when, creeping softly
towards her, she again perceived the black gentleman.
“Ah!” cried she, with some vexation, “here comes my old tormentor!
screen me from him if possible, or he will again make me his prisoner.”
“Fear not,” cried the white domino, “he is an evil spirit, and we will
surely lay him. If one spell fails, we must try another.”
Cecilia then perceiving Mr Arnott, begged he would also assist in
barricading her from the fiend who so obstinately pursued her.
Mr Arnott most gratefully acceded to the proposal; and the white domino,
who acted as commanding officer, assigned to each his station:
he desired Cecilia would keep quietly to her seat, appointed the
schoolmaster to be her guard on the left, took possession himself of the
opposite post, and ordered Mr Arnott to stand centinel in front.
This arrangement being settled, the guards of the right and left wings
instantly secured their places; but while Mr Arnott was considering
whether it were better to face the besieged or the enemy, the arch-foe
rushed suddenly before him, and laid himself down at the feet of
Cecilia!
Mr Arnott, extremely disconcerted, began a serious expostulation upon
the ill-breeding of this behaviour; but the devil, resting all excuse
upon supporting his character, only answered by growling.
The white domino seemed to hesitate for a moment in what manner to
conduct himself, and with a quickness that marked his chagrin, said to
Cecilia, “You told me you knew him,--has he any right to follow you?”
“If he thinks he has,” answered she, a little alarmed by his question,
“this is no time to dispute it.”
And then, to avoid any hazard of altercation, she discreetly forbore
making further complaints, preferring any persecution to seriously
remonstrating with a man of so much insolence as the Baronet.
The schoolmaster, laughing at the whole transaction, only said, “And
pray, madam, after playing the devil with all mankind, what right have
you to complain that one man plays the devil with you?”
“We shall, at least, fortify you,” said the white domino, “from any
other assailant: no three-headed Cerberus could protect you more
effectually: but you will not, therefore, fancy yourself in the lower
regions, for, if I mistake not, the torment of _three guardians_ is
nothing new to you.”
“And how,” said Cecilia, surprised, “should you know of my three
guardians? I hope I am not quite encompassed with evil spirits!”
“No,” answered he; “you will find me as inoffensive as the hue of the
domino I wear;----and would I could add as insensible!”
“This black gentleman,” said the schoolmaster, “who, and very
innocently, I was going to call your _black-guard_, has as noble and
fiend-like a disposition as I remember to have seen; for without even
attempting to take any diversion himself, he seems gratified to his
heart's content in excluding from it the lady he serves.”
“He does me an honour I could well dispense with,” said Cecilia; “but I
hope he has some secret satisfaction in his situation which pays him for
its apparent inconvenience.”
Here the black gentleman half-raised himself, and attempted to take
her hand. She started, and with much displeasure drew it back. He then
growled, and again sank prostrate.
“This is a fiend,” said the schoolmaster, “who to himself sayeth, _Budge
not!_ let his conscience never so often say _budge!_ Well, fair lady,
your fortifications, however, may now be deemed impregnable, since I,
with a flourish of my rod, can keep off the young by recollection of the
past, and since the fiend, with a jut of his foot, may keep off the old
from dread of the future!”
Here a Turk, richly habited and resplendent with jewels, stalked towards
Cecilia, and, having regarded her some time, called out, “I have been
looking hard about me the whole evening, and, faith, I have seen nothing
handsome before!”
The moment he opened his mouth, his voice, to her utter astonishment,
betrayed Sir Robert Floyer! “Mercy on me,” cried she aloud, and pointing
to the fiend, “who, then, can this possibly be?”
“Do you not know?” cried the white domino.
“I thought I had known with certainty,” answered she, “but I now find I
was mistaken.”
“He is a happy man,” said the schoolmaster, sarcastically looking at
the Turk, “who has removed your suspicions only by appearing in another
character!”
“Why, what the deuce, then,” exclaimed the Turk, “have you taken that
black dog there for _me_?”
Before this question could be answered, an offensive smell of soot,
making everybody look around the room, the chimney-sweeper already
mentioned by Miss Larolles was perceived to enter it. Every way he moved
a passage was cleared for him, as the company, with general disgust,
retreated wherever he advanced.
He was short, and seemed somewhat incommoded by his dress; he held his
soot-bag over one arm, and his shovel under the other. As soon as he
espied Cecilia, whose situation was such as to prevent her eluding him,
he hooted aloud, and came stumping up to her; “Ah ha,” he cried, “found
at last;” then, throwing down his shovel, he opened the mouth of his
bag, and pointing waggishly to her head, said, “Come, shall I pop
you?--a good place for naughty girls; in, I say, poke in!--cram you up
the chimney.”
And then he put forth his sooty hands to reach her cap.
Cecilia, though she instantly knew the dialect of her guardian Mr
Briggs, was not therefore the more willing to be so handled, and started
back to save herself from his touch; the white domino also came forward,
and spread out his arms as a defence to her, while the devil, who was
still before her, again began to growl.
“Ah ha!” cried the chimney-sweeper, laughing, “so did not know me? Poor
duck! won't hurt you; don't be frightened; nothing but old guardian; all
a joke!” And then, patting her cheek with his dirty hand, and nodding
at her with much kindness, “Pretty dove,” he added, “be of good heart!
shan't be meddled with; come to see after you. Heard of your tricks;
thought I'd catch you!--come o' purpose.--Poor duck! did not know me!
ha! ha!--good joke enough!”
“What do you mean, you dirty dog,” cried the Turk, “by touching that
lady?”
“Won't tell!” answered he; “not your business. Got a good right. Who
cares for pearls? Nothing but French beads.” Pointing with a sneer to
his turban. Then, again addressing Cecilia, “Fine doings!” he continued,
“Here's a place! never saw the like before! turn a man's noddle!--All
goings out; no comings in; wax candles in every room; servants thick as
mushrooms! And where's the cash? Who's to pay the piper? Come to more
than a guinea; warrant Master Harrel thinks that nothing!”
“A guinea?” contemptuously repeated the Turk, “and what do you suppose a
guinea will do?”
“What? Why, keep a whole family handsome a week;--never spend so much
myself; no, nor half neither.”
“Why then, how the devil do you live? Do you beg?”
“Beg? Who should I beg of? You?--Got anything to give? Are warm?”
“Take the trouble to speak more respectfully, sir!” said the Turk,
haughtily; “I see you are some low fellow, and I shall not put up with
your impudence.”
“Shall, shall! I say!” answered the chimneysweeper, sturdily; “Hark'ee,
my duck,” chucking Cecilia under the chin, “don't be cajoled, nick that
spark! never mind gold trappings; none of his own; all a take-in; hired
for eighteenpence; not worth a groat. Never set your heart on a fine
outside, nothing within. Bristol stones won't buy stock: only wants to
chouse you.”
“What do you mean by that, you little old scrub!” cried the imperious
Turk; “would you provoke me to soil my fingers by pulling that beastly
snub nose?” For Mr Briggs had saved himself any actual mask, by merely
blacking his face with soot.
“Beastly snub nose!” sputtered out the chimneysweeper in much wrath,
“good nose enough; don't want a better; good as another man's. Where's
the harm on't?”
“How could this blackguard get in?” cried the Turk, “I believe he's a
mere common chimneysweeper out of the streets, for he's all over dirt
and filth. I never saw such a dress at a masquerade before in my life.”
“All the better,” returned the other; “would not change. What do think
it cost?”
“Cost? Why, not a crown.”
“A crown? ha! ha!--a pot o' beer! Little Tom borrowed it; had it of our
own sweep. Said 'twas for himself. I bid him a pint; rascal would not
take less.”
“Did your late uncle,” said the white domino in a low voice to Cecilia,
“chuse for two of your guardians Mr Harrel and Mr Briggs, to give you an
early lesson upon the opposite errors of profusion and meanness?”
“My uncle?” cried Cecilia, starting, “were you acquainted with my
uncle?”
“No,” said he, “for my happiness I knew him not.”
“You would have owed no loss of happiness to an acquaintance with him,”
said Cecilia, very seriously, “for he was one who dispensed to his
friends nothing but good.”
“Perhaps so,” said the domino; “but I fear I should have found the good
he dispensed through his niece not quite unmixed with evil!”
“What's here?” cried the chimney-sweeper, stumbling over the fiend,
“what's this black thing? Don't like it; looks like the devil. You
shan't stay with it; carry you away; take care of you myself.”
He then offered Cecilia his hand; but the black gentleman, raising
himself upon his knees before her, paid her, in dumb shew, the humblest
devoirs, yet prevented her from removing.
“Ah ha!” cried the chimney-sweeper, significantly nodding his head,
“smell a rat! a sweetheart in disguise. No bamboozling! it won't do;
a'n't so soon put upon. If you've got any thing to say, tell _me_,
that's the way. Where's the cash? Got ever a _rental_? Are warm? That's
the point; are warm?”
The fiend, without returning any answer, continued his homage to
Cecilia; at which the enraged chimney-sweeper exclaimed, “Come, come
with me! won't be imposed upon; an old fox,--understand trap!”
He then again held out his hand, but Cecilia, pointing to the fiend,
answered, “How can I come, sir?”
“Shew you the way,” cried he, “shovel him off.” And taking his shovel,
he very roughly set about removing him.
The fiend then began a yell so horrid, that it disturbed the whole
company; but the chimney-sweeper, only saying, “Aye, aye, blacky, growl
away, blacky,--makes no odds,” sturdily continued his work, and, as
the fiend had no chance of resisting so coarse an antagonist without a
serious struggle, he was presently compelled to change his ground.
“Warm work!” cried the victorious chimney-sweeper, taking off his wig,
and wiping his head with the sleeves of his dress, “pure warm work
this!”
Cecilia, once again freed from her persecutor, instantly quitted her
place, almost equally desirous to escape the haughty Turk, who was
peculiarly her aversion, and the facetious chimney-sweeper, whose
vicinity, either on account of his dress or his conversation, was by no
means desirable. She was not, however, displeased that the white domino
and the schoolmaster still continued to attend her.
“Pray, look,” said the white domino, as they entered another apartment,
“at that figure of Hope; is there any in the room half so expressive of
despondency?”
“The reason, however,” answered the schoolmaster, “is obvious; that
light and beautiful silver anchor upon which she reclines presents an
occasion irresistible for an attitude of elegant dejection; and the
assumed character is always given up where an opportunity offers to
display any beauty, or manifest any perfection in the dear proper
person!”
“But why,” said Cecilia, “should she assume the character of _Hope_?
Could she not have been equally dejected and equally elegant as Niobe,
or some tragedy queen?”
“But she does not assume the character,” answered the schoolmaster, “she
does not even think of it: the dress is her object, and that alone fills
up all her ideas. Enquire of almost any body in the room concerning the
persons they seem to represent, and you will find their ignorance more
gross than you can imagine; they have not once thought upon the subject;
accident, or convenience, or caprice has alone directed their choice.”
A tall and elegant youth now approached them, whose laurels and harp
announced Apollo. The white domino immediately enquired of him if the
noise and turbulence of the company had any chance of being stilled into
silence and rapture by the divine music of the inspired god?
“No,” answered he, pointing to the room in which was erected the new
gallery, and whence, as he spoke, issued the sound of a _hautboy_,
“there is a flute playing there already.”
“O for a Midas,” cried the white domino, “to return to this
leather-eared god the disgrace he received from him!”
They now proceeded to the apartment which had been lately fitted up for
refreshments, and which was so full of company that they entered it
with difficulty. And here they were again joined by Minerva, who, taking
Cecilia's hand, said, “Lord, how glad I am you've got away from that
frightful black mask! I can't conceive who he is; nobody can find out;
it's monstrous odd, but he has not spoke a word all night, and he makes
such a shocking noise when people touch him, that I assure you it's
enough to put one in a fright.”
“And pray,” cried the schoolmaster, disguising his voice, “how camest
thou to take the helmet of Minerva for a fool's cap?”
“Lord, I have not,” cried she, innocently, “why, the whole dress is
Minerva's; don't you see?”
“My dear child,” answered he, “thou couldst as well with that little
figure pass for a Goliath, as with that little wit for a Pallas.”
Their attention was now drawn from the goddess of wisdom to a mad Edgar,
who so vehemently ran about the room calling out “Poor Tom's a cold!”
that, in a short time, he was obliged to take off his mask, from an
effect, not very delicate, of the heat!
Soon after, a gentleman desiring some lemonade whose toga spoke the
consular dignity, though his broken English betrayed a native of France,
the schoolmaster followed him, and, with reverence the most profound,
began to address him in Latin; but, turning quick towards him, he
gaily said, “_Monsieur, j'ai l'honneur de representer Ciceron, le grand
Ciceron, pere de sa patrie! mais quoique j'ai cet honneur-la, je ne suit
pas pedant!--mon dieu, Monsieur, je ne parle que le Francois dans la
bonne compagnie_!” And, politely bowing, he went on.
Just then Cecilia, while looking about the room for Mrs Harrel, found
herself suddenly pinched by the cheek, and hastily turning round,
perceived again her friend the chimney-sweeper, who, laughing, cried,
“Only me! don't be frightened. Have something to tell you;--had no
luck!--got never a husband yet! can't find one! looked all over, too;
sharp as a needle. Not one to be had! all catched up!”
“I am glad to hear it, sir,” said Cecilia, somewhat vexed by observing
the white domino attentively listening; “and I hope, therefore, you will
give yourself no farther trouble.”
“Pretty duck!” cried he, chucking her under the chin; “never mind, don't
be cast down; get one at last. Leave it to me. Nothing under a
plum; won't take up with less. Good-by, ducky, good-by! must go home
now,--begin to be nodding.”
And then, repeating his kind caresses, he walked away.
“Do you think, then,” said the white domino, “more highly of Mr Briggs
for discernment and taste than of any body?”
“I hope not!” answered she, “for low indeed should I then think of the
rest of the world!”
“The commission with which he is charged,” returned the domino, “has
then misled me; I imagined discernment and taste might be necessary
ingredients for making such a choice as your approbation would sanctify:
but perhaps his skill in guarding against any fraud or deduction in the
stipulation he mentioned, may be all that is requisite for the execution
of his trust.”
“I understand very well,” said Cecilia, a little hurt, “the severity
of your meaning; and if Mr Briggs had any commission but of his own
suggestion, it would fill me with shame and confusion; but as that is
not the case, those at least are sensations which it cannot give me.”
“My meaning,” cried the domino, with some earnestness, “should I express
it seriously, would but prove to you the respect and admiration with
which you have inspired me, and if indeed, as Mr Briggs hinted, such a
prize is to be purchased by riches, I know not, from what I have seen of
its merit, any sum I should think adequate to its value.”
“You are determined, I see,” said Cecilia, smiling, “to make most
liberal amends for your asperity.”
A loud clack of tongues now interrupted their discourse; and the domino,
at the desire of Cecilia, for whom he had procured a seat, went forward
to enquire what was the matter. But scarce had he given up his place
a moment, before, to her great mortification, it was occupied by the
fiend.
Again, but with the same determined silence he had hitherto preserved,
he made signs of obedience and homage, and her perplexity to conjecture
who he could be, or what were his motives for this persecution, became
the more urgent as they seemed the less likely to be satisfied. But the
fiend, who was no other than Mr Monckton, had every instant less and
less encouragement to make himself known: his plan had in nothing
succeeded, and his provocation at its failure had caused him the
bitterest disappointment; he had intended, in the character of a
tormentor, not only to pursue and hover around her himself, but he had
also hoped, in the same character, to have kept at a distance all other
admirers: but the violence with which he had over-acted his part, by
raising her disgust and the indignation of the company, rendered his
views wholly abortive while the consciousness of an extravagance for
which, if discovered, he could assign no reason not liable to excite
suspicions of his secret motives, reduced him to guarding a painful
and most irksome silence the whole evening. And Cecilia, to whose
unsuspicious mind the idea of Mr Monckton had never occurred, added
continually to the cruelty of his situation, by an undisguised
abhorrence of his assiduity, as well as by a manifest preference to the
attendance of the white domino. All, therefore, that his disappointed
scheme now left in his power, was to watch her motions, listen to her
discourse, and inflict occasionally upon others some part of the chagrin
with which he was tormented himself.
While they were in this situation, Harlequin, in consequence of being
ridiculed by the Turk for want of agility, offered to jump over the new
desert table, and desired to have a little space cleared to give
room for his motions. It was in vain the people who distributed the
refreshments, and who were placed at the other side of the table,
expostulated upon the danger of the experiment; Morrice had a rage of
enterprise untameable, and, therefore, first taking a run, he attempted
the leap.
The consequence was such as might naturally be expected; he could not
accomplish his purpose, but, finding himself falling, imprudently caught
hold of the lately erected Awning, and pulled it entirely upon his own
head, and with it the new contrived lights, which, in various forms,
were fixed to it, and which all came down together.
The mischief and confusion occasioned by this exploit were very
alarming, and almost dangerous; those who were near the table suffered
most by the crush, but splinters of the glass flew yet further; and as
the room, which was small, had been only lighted up by lamps hanging
from the Awning, it was now in total darkness, except close to the door,
which was still illuminated from the adjoining apartments.
The clamour of Harlequin, who was covered with glass, papier-machee,
lamps and oil, the screams of the ladies, the universal buz of tongues,
and the struggle between the frighted crowd which was enclosed to
get out, and the curious crowd from the other apartments to get in,
occasioned a disturbance and tumult equally noisy and confused. But the
most serious sufferer was the unfortunate fiend, who, being nearer the
table than Cecilia, was so pressed upon by the numbers which poured from
it, that he found a separation unavoidable, and was unable, from the
darkness and the throng, to discover whether she was still in the same
place, or had made her escape into another.
She had, however, encountered the white domino, and, under his
protection, was safely conveyed to a further part of the room.
Her intention and desire were to quit it immediately, but at the
remonstrance of her conductor, she consented to remain some time longer.
“The conflict at the door,” said he, “will quite overpower you. Stay
here but a few minutes, and both parties will have struggled themselves
tired, and you may then go without difficulty. Meantime, can you not,
by this faint light, suppose me one of your guardians, Mr Briggs, for
example, or, if he is too old for me, Mr Harrel, and entrust yourself to
my care?”
“You seem wonderfully well acquainted with my guardians,” said Cecilia;
“I cannot imagine how you have had your intelligence.”
“Nor can I,” answered the domino, “imagine how Mr Briggs became so
particularly your favourite as to be entrusted with powers to dispose of
you.”
“You are mistaken indeed; he is entrusted with no powers but such as his
own fancy has suggested.”
“But how has Mr Delvile offended you, that with him only you seem to
have no commerce or communication?”
“Mr Delvile!” repeated Cecilia, still more surprised, “are you also
acquainted with Mr Delvile?”