_The accomplished Monkies_
When Camilla descended, she found Sir Sedley Clarendel and General
Kinsale in attendance; and saw, from the parlour window, Miss Dennel
sauntering before the house, with the newly made acquaintance of the
preceding evening.
The Baronet, who was to drive Mrs. Arlbery, enquired if Camilla would
not prefer, also, an open carriage. Mrs. Arlbery seconded the motion.
Miss Dennel, then, running to her father, exclaimed, 'Pray, papa, let's
take this lady I've been talking with in the coach with us. She's the
good-naturedest creature I ever knew.'
'Who is she? what's her name?'
'O, I don't know that, papa; but I'll go and ask her.'
Flying then back, 'Pray, ma'am,' she cried, 'what's your name? because
papa wants to know.'
'Why, my dear, my name's Mittin. So you may think of me when you put on
your gloves.'
'Papa, her name's Mittin,' cried Miss Dennel, scampering again to her
father.
'Well, and who is she?'
'O, la, I'm sure I can't tell, only she's a gentlewoman.'
'And how do you know that?'
'She told me so herself.'
'And where does she live?'
'Just by, papa, at that house you see there.'
'O, well, if she's a neighbour, that's enough. I've no more to say.'
'O, then, I'll ask her!' cried Miss Dennel, jumping, 'dear! I'm so glad!
'twould have been so dull, only papa and I. I'm resolved, when I've a
house of my own, I'll never go alone any where with papa.'
This being muttered, the invitation was made and accepted, and the
parties set forward.
The ride was perfectly pleasing to Camilla, now revived and cheerful;
Sir Sedley was free from airs; Mrs. Arlbery drew them into conversation
with one another, and none of them were glad when Mr. Dennel, called
'stop! or you'll drive too far.'
Camilla, who, supposing she was going, as usual, to the Pantiles, had
got into the phaeton without inquiry; and who, finding afterwards her
mistake, concluded they were merely taking an airing, now observed she
was advancing towards a crowd, and presently perceived a booth, and an
immense sign hung out from it, exhibiting a man monkey, or ourang
outang.
Though excessively fluttered, she courageously, and at once, told Mrs.
Arlbery she begged to be excused proceeding.
Mrs. Arlbery, who had heard, at the play, the general objections of
Mandlebert, though she had not attended to her answer, conjectured her
reason for retreating, and laughed, but said she would not oppose her.
Camilla then begged to wait in Mr. Dennel's carriage, that she might
keep no one else from the show. Sir Sedley, saying it would be an
excruciatingly vulgar sight, proposed they should all return; but she
pleaded strongly against breaking up the party, though, while she was
handed out, to go back to the coach, the Dennels and Mrs. Mittin had
alighted, and it had driven off.
The chagrin of Camilla was so palpable, that Mrs. Arlbery herself agreed
to resign the scheme; and Sir Sedley, who drew up to them, said he
should rejoice in being delivered from it: but Miss Dennel, who was
waiting without the booth for her aunt, was ready to cry at the thought
of losing the sight, which Mrs. Mittin had assured her was extremely
pretty; and, after some discussion, Camilla was reduced to beg she might
do no mischief, and consent to make one.
A more immediate distress now occurred to her; she heard Mr. Dennel call
out to the man stationed at the entrance of the booth, 'What's to pay?'
and recollected she had no money left.
'What your Honor pleases,' was the answer, 'but gentlefolks gives
half-a-crown.'
'I'm sure it's well worth it,' said Mrs. Mittin, 'for it's one of the
most curious things you ever saw. You can't give less, sir.' And she
passed nimbly by, without paying at all: but added, 'I had a ticket the
first day, and now I come every day for nothing, if it don't rain, for
one only need to pay at first.'
Mr. Dennel and his daughter followed, and Camilla was beginning a
hesitating speech to Mrs. Arlbery, as that lady, not attending to her,
said to Mr. Dennel: 'Well, frank me also; but take care what you pay;
I'm not at all sure I shall ever return it. All I save goes to my
ponies.' And, handed by the General, she crossed the barrier; not
hearing the voice of her young friend, which was timidly beseeching her
to stop.
Camilla was now in extreme confusion. She put her hand into her pocket,
took it out, felt again, and again brought forth the hand empty.
The Major, who was before her, and who watched her, begged leave to
settle with the booth-keeper; but Camilla, to whom he grew daily more
irksome, again preferred a short obligation to the Baronet, and
blushingly asked if he would once more be her banker?
Sir Sedley, by no means suspecting the necessity that urged this
condescension, was surprised and delighted, and almost without knowing
it himself, became all that was attentive, obliging, and pleasing.
Before they were seated, the young Ensign, Mr. Macdersey, issuing from a
group of gentlemen, addressed himself to Camilla, though with an air
that spoke him much discomposed and out of spirits. 'I hope you are
well, Miss Camilla Tyrold,' he cried; 'and have left all your family
well? particularly the loveliest of your sex, that angel of beauty, the
divine Miss Lynmere?'
'Except the company present!' said Mrs. Arlbery; 'always except the
company present, when you talk of beauty to women.'
'I would not except even the company absent!' replied he, with warmth;
but was interrupted from proceeding, by what the master of the booth
called his _Consort of Musics_: in which not less than twenty monkies
contributed their part; one dreadfully scraping a bow across the strings
of a vile kit, another beating a drum, another with a fife, a fourth
with a bagpipe, and the sixteen remainder striking together tongs,
shovels, and pokers, by way of marrowbones and cleavers. Every body
stopt their ears, though no one could forbear laughing at their various
contortions, and horrible grimaces, till the master of the booth, to
keep them, he said, in tune, dealt about such fierce blows with a stick,
that they set up a general howling, which he called the _Wocal_ part of
his _Consort_, not more stunning to the ear, than offensive to all
humanity. The audience applauded by loud shouts, but Mrs. Arlbery,
disgusted, rose to quit the booth. Camilla eagerly started up to second
the motion, but her eyes still more expeditiously turned from the door,
upon encountering those of Edgar; who, having met the empty coach of Mr.
Dennel, had not been able to refrain from inquiring where its company
had been deposited; nor, upon hearing it was at the _accomplished
Monkies_, from hastening to the spot, to satisfy himself if or not
Camilla had been steady to her declaration. But he witnessed at once the
propriety of his advice, and its failure.
The master of the booth could not endure to see the departure of the
most brilliant part of his spectators, and made an harangue, promising
the company, at large, if they would submit to postponing the _Consort_,
in order to oblige his friends the Quality, they should have it, with
the newest squalls in taste, afterwards.
The people laughed and clapped, and Mrs. Arlbery sat down.
In a few minutes, the performers were ready for a new exhibition. They
were dressed up as soldiers, who, headed by a corporal, came forward to
do their exercises.
Mrs. Arlbery, laughing, told the General, as he was upon duty, he should
himself take the command: the General, a pleasant, yet cool and sensible
man, did not laugh less; but the Ensign, more warm tempered, and wrong
headed, seeing a feather in a monkey's cap, of the same colour, by
chance, as in his own, fired with hasty indignation, and rising, called
out to the master of the booth: 'What do you mean by this, sir? do you
mean to put an affront upon our corps?'
The man, startled, was going most humbly to protest his innocence of any
such design; but the laugh raised against the Ensign amongst the
audience gave him more courage, and he only simpered without speaking.
'What do you mean by grinning at me, sir?' said Macdersey; 'do you want
me to cane you?'
'Cane me!' cried the man enraged, 'by what rights?'
Macdersey, easily put off all guard, was stepping over the benches, with
his cane uplifted, when his next neighbour, tightly holding him, said,
in a half whisper, 'If you'll take my advice, you'd a deal better
provoke him to strike the first blow.'
Macdersey, far more irritated by this counsel than by the original
offence, fiercely looked back, calling out 'The first blow! What do you
mean by that, sir?'
'No offence, sir,' answered the person, who was no other than the slow
and solemn Mr. Dubster; 'but only to give you a hint for your own good;
for if you strike first, being in his own house, as one may say, he may
take the law of you.'
'The law!' repeated the fiery Ensign; 'the law was made for poltroons: a
man of honour does not know what it means.'
'If you talk at that rate, sir,' said Dubster, in a low voice, 'it may
bring you into trouble.'
'And who are you, sir, that take upon you the presumption to give me
your opinion?'
'Who am I, sir? I am a gentleman, if you must needs know.'
'A gentleman! who made you so?'
'Who made me so? why leaving off business! what would you have make me
so? you may tell me if you are any better, if you come to that.'
Macdersey, of an ancient and respectable family, incensed past measure,
was turning back upon Mr. Dubster; when the General, taking him gently
by the hand, begged he would recollect himself.
'That's very true, sir, very true, General!' cried he, profoundly
bowing; 'what you say is very true. I have no right to put myself into a
passion before my superior officer, unless he puts me into it himself;
in which case 'tis his own fault. So I beg your pardon, General, with
all my heart. And I'll go out of the booth without another half
syllable. But if ever I detect any of those monkies mocking us, and
wearing our feathers, when you a'n't by, I sha'n't put up with it so
mildly. I hope you'll excuse me, General.'
He then bowed to him again, and begged pardon of all the ladies; but, in
quitting the booth, contemptuously said to Mr. Dubster: 'As to you, you
little dirty fellow, you a'n't worth my notice.'
'Little dirty fellow!' repeated Mr. Dubster, when he was gone; 'How come
you to think of that? why I'm as clean as hands can make me!'
'Come, sir, come,' said Mrs. Mittin, reaching over to him, and stroking
his arm, 'don't be angry; these things will happen, sometimes, in public
companies; but gentlemen should be above minding them. He meant no harm,
I dare say.'
'O, as to that, ma'am,' answered Mr. Dubster proudly, 'I don't much care
if he did or not: it's no odds to me. Only I don't know much what right
he has to defame me. I wonder who he thinks he is that he may break the
peace for nothing. I can't say I'm much a friend to such behaviour.
Treating people with so little ceremony.'
'I protest,' cried Sir Sedley to Camilla, ''tis your favourite swain
from the Northwick assembly! wafted on some zephyr of Hope, he has
pursued you to Tunbridge. I flatter myself he has brought his last bran
new cloaths to claim your fair hand at the master of the ceremonies'
ball.'
'Hush! hush!' cried Camilla, in a low voice; 'he will take you literally
should he hear you!'
Mr. Dubster, now perceiving her, bowed low from the place where he
stood, and called out, 'How do you do, ma'am? I ask pardon for not
speaking to you before; but I can't say as I see you.'
Camilla was forced to bow, though she made no answer. But he continued
with his usual steadiness; 'Why, that was but a unked morning we was
together so long, ma'am, in my new summer-house. We was in fine
jeopardy, that's the truth of it. Pray, how does the young gentleman do
as took away our ladder?'
'What a delectable acquaintance!' cried Sir Sedley; 'would you have the
cruelty to keep such a treasure to yourself? present me, I supplicate!'
'O, I know you well enough, sir,' said Mr. Dubster, who overheard him;
'I see you at the hop at the White Hart; and I believe you know me
pretty well too, sir, if I may take account by your staring. Not that I
mind it in the least.'
'Come, come, don't be touchy,' said Mrs. Mittin; 'can't you be
good-natured, and hold your tongue? what signifies taking things amiss?
It only breeds ill words.'
'That's very sensibly observed upon!' said Mr. Dennel; 'I don't know
when I've heard any thing more sensibly said.'
'O, as to that, I don't take it amiss in the least,' cried Mr. Dubster;
'if the gentleman's a mind to stare, let him stare. Only I should like
to know what it's for. It's no better than child's play, as one may say,
making one look foolish for nothing.'
The ourang outang was now announced, and Mrs. Arlbery immediately left
the booth, accompanied by her party, and speedily followed by Edgar.
Neither of the carriages were in waiting, but they would not return to
the booth. Sir Sedley, to whom standing was still rather inconvenient,
begged a cast in the carriage of a friend, who was accidentally passing
by.
Macdersey, who joined them, said he had been considering what that
fellow had proposed to him, of taking the first blow, and found he could
not put up with it: and upon the appearance of Mr. Dubster, who in
quitting the booth was preparing, with his usual leisurely solemnity, to
approach Camilla, darted forward and seizing him by the collar,
exclaimed, 'Retract, sir! Retract!'
Mr. Dubster stared, at first, without speech or opposition; but being
released by the Major, whom the General begged to interfere, he angrily
said: 'Pray, sir, what business have you to take hold of a body in such
a manner as that? It's an assault, sir, and so I can prove. And I'm glad
of it; for now I can serve you as I did another gentleman once before,
that I smarted out of a good ten pound out of his pocket, for a knock he
gave me, for a mere nothing, just like this here pulling one by the
collar, nobody knows why.'
The Major, endeavouring to quiet Macdersey, advised him to despise so
low a person.
'So I will, my dear friend,' he returned, 'as soon as ever I have given
him the proper chastisement for his ignorance. But I must do that first.
You won't take it ill, Major.'
'I believe,' cried Mr. Dubster, holding up both his hands, 'the like of
this was never heard of! Here's a gentleman, as he calls himself, ready
to take away my life, with his own good will, for nothing but giving him
a little bit of advice! However, it's all one to me. The law is open to
all. And if any one plays their tricks upon me, they shall pay for their
fun. I'm none of your tame ones to put up with such a thing for nothing.
I'm above that, I promise you.'
'Don't talk, sir, don't talk!' cried Macdersey; 'it's a thing I can't
bear from a mean person, to be talked to. I had a hundred thousand times
rather stand to be shot at.'
'Not talk, sir? I should be glad to know what right you has to hinder
me, provided I say nothing against the law? And as to being a mean
person, it's more than you can prove, for I'm sure you don't know who I
am, nor nothing about me. I may be a lord, for any thing you know,
though I don't pretend to say I am. But as to what people take me for,
that behave so out of character, it's what I sha'n't trouble my head
about. They may take me for a chimney-sweeper, or they may take me for a
duke; which they like. I sha'n't tell them whether I'm one or t'other,
or whether I'm neither. And as to not talking, I shall hold my tongue
when I think proper.'
'Ask my pardon this instant, fellow!' cried the Ensign, whom the Major,
at the motion of the General, now caught by the arm, and hurried from
the spot: Mrs. Mittin, at the same moment pulling away Mr. Dubster, and
notably expounding to him the advantages of patience and good humour.
Mrs. Arlbery, wearied both of this squabble and of waiting, took the arm
of the General, and said she would walk home; Miss Dennel lovingly held
by Mrs. Mittin, with whom her father also assorted, and by whom Mr.
Dubster was drawn on.
Camilla alone had no immediate companion, as the Major was occupied by
the Ensign. Edgar saw her disengaged. He trembled, he wavered; he wished
the Major back; he wished him still more at a distance too remote ever
to return; he thought he would instantly mount his horse, and gallop
towards Beech Park; but the horse was not ready, and Camilla was in
sight;--and, in less than a minute, he found himself, scarce knowing
how, at her side.
Camilla felt a pleasure that bounded to her heart, though the late
assertions of Mrs. Arlbery prepared her to expect him. He knew not,
however, what to say; he felt mortified and disappointed, and when he
had uttered something scarce intelligible about the weather, he walked
on in silence.
Camilla, whose present train of thoughts had no discordant tendency,
broke through this strangeness herself, and said: 'How frivolous I must
appear to you! but indeed I was at the very door of the booth, before I
knew whither the party was going.'
'You did not, I hope, at least,' he cried, 'when you had entered it,
deem me too rigid, too austere, that I thought the species, both of
company and of entertainment, ill calculated for a young lady?'
'Rigid! austere!' repeated she; 'I never thought you either! never--and
if once again--' she stopt; embarrassed, ashamed.
'If once again what?' cried he in a tremulous voice; 'what would Miss
Camilla say?--would she again--Is there yet--What would Miss Camilla
say?--'
Camilla felt confounded, both with ideas of what he meant to allude to,
and what construction he had put upon her half finished sentence.
Impatient, however, to clear that, 'If once more,' she cried, 'you could
prevail with yourself--now and then--from time to time--to give me an
hint, an idea--of what you think right--I will promise, if not a
constant observance, at least a never-failing sense of your kindness.'
The revulsion in the heart, in the whole frame of Edgar, was almost too
powerful for restraint: he panted for an immediate explanation of every
past and every present difficulty, and a final avowal that she was
either self-destined to the Major, or that he had no rival to fear: But
before he could make any answer, a sudden and violent shower broke up
the conference, and grouped the whole party under a large tree.
This interruption, however, had no power upon their thoughts; neither of
them heard a word that was saying; each ruminated intently, though
confusedly, upon what already was passed. Yet where the wind
precipitated the rain, Edgar stationed himself, and held his hat to
intercept its passage to Camilla; and as her eye involuntarily was
caught by the shower that pattered upon his head and shoulders, she
insensibly pressed nearer to the trunk of the tree, to afford more
shelter to him from its branches.
The rest of the party partook not of this taciturnity: Mr. Dubster,
staring Mrs. Mittin full in the face, exclaimed: 'I think I ought to
know you, ma'am, asking your pardon?'
'No matter for that!' cried she, turning with quickness to Camilla;
'Lord, miss--I don't know your name,--how your poor hat is all I don't
know how! as limp, and as flimzy, as if it had been in a wash-tub!'
'I've just bethought me,' continued he, 'where it was we used to see one
another, and all the whole manner of it. I've got it as clear in my head
as if it was but yesterday. Don't you remember--'
'Can't you stand a little out, there?' interrupted she; 'what signifies
a man's old coat? don't you see how you let all the rain come upon this
young lady? you should never think of yourself, but only of what you can
do to be obliging.'
'A very good rule, that! a very good one indeed!' said Mr. Dennel; 'I
wish everybody would mind it.'
'I'm as willing to mind it, I believe,' said Mr. Dubster, 'as my
neighbours; but as to being wet through, for mere complaisance, I don't
think it fair to expect such a thing of nobody. Besides, this is not
such an old coat as you may think for. If you was to see what I wear at
home, I promise you would not think so bad of it. I don't say it's my
best; who'd be fool then, to wear it every day? However, I believe it's
pretty nigh as good as that I had on that night I saw you at Mrs.
Purdle's, when, you know, one of your pattens--'
'Come, come, what's the man talking about? one person should not take
all the conversation up so. Dear miss ... do tell me your name?... I am
so sorry for your hat, I can't but think of it; it looks as dingy!...'
'Why, now, you won't make me believe,' said Mr. Dubster, 'you've forgot
how your patten broke; and how I squeezed my finger under the iron? And
how I'd like to have lost the use of it? There would have been a fine
job! And how Mrs. Purdle....'
'I'm sure the shower's over,' cried Mrs. Mittin, 'and if we stay here,
we shall have all the droppings of the leaves upon us. Poor miss
thing-o-me's hat is spoilt already. There's no need to make it worse.'
'And how Mrs. Purdle,' he continued, 'was obliged to lend you a pair of
shoes and stockings, because you was wet through your feet? And how they
would not fit you, and kept tumbling off? And how, when somebody come to
fetch you in their own coach, you made us say you was taken ill, because
you was so daubed with mud and mire, you was ashamed to shew yourself?
And how....'
'I can't think what you are talking of,' said Mrs. Mittin; 'but come,
let's you and I go a little way on, to see if the rain's over.' She then
went some paces from the tree, and said: 'What signifies running on so,
Mr. Dubster, about things nobody knows anything of? It's tiring all the
company to death. You should never talk about your own fingers, and
hap-hazards, to genteel people. You should only talk about agreeable
subjects as I do. See how they all like me! That gentleman brought me to
the monkies in his own coach.'
'As to that,' answered he, gravely, 'I did not mean, in the least, to
say anything disagreeable; only I thought it odd you should not seem to
know me again, considering Mrs. Purdle used----'
'Why you've no nous, Mr. Dubster; Mrs. Purdle's a very good sort of
woman and the best friend I have in the world, perhaps, at the bottom;
but she i'n't a sort of person to talk of before gentlefolks. You should
talk to great people about their own affairs, and what you can do to
please them, and find out how you can serve them, if you'd be treated
genteelly by them, as I am. Why, I go every where, and see every thing,
and it costs me nothing. A friend, a lady of great fashion, took me one
day to the monkies, and paid for me; and I've gone since, whenever I
will, for nothing.'
'Nobody treats me to nothing,' answered he, in a melancholy voice,
'whatever's the reason: except when I make friends with somebody that
can let me in free, sometimes. And I get a peep, now and then, at what
goes forward, that way.'
'But you are rich enough to pay for yourself now, Mr. Dubster; good
lack! if I had such a fortune as yours, I'd go all the world over, and
thanks to nobody.'
'And how long would you be rich then, Mrs. Mittin? Who'd give you your
money again when you'd spent it? I got mine hard enough. I sha'n't fool
it away in a hurry, I promise you!'
'I can't say I see that, Mr. Dubster, when two of your wives died so
soon, and left you so handsome.'
'Why, yes, I don't say to the contrary of that; but then, think of the
time before, when I was 'prentice!--'
The shower was now over, and the party proceeded as before.
Edgar, uncertain, irresolute, walked on in silence: yet attentive,
assiduous, even tenderly watchful to guide, guard, and assist his fair
companion in her way. The name of the Major trembled perpetually upon
his lips; but fear what might be the result of his inquiries stopt his
speech till they approached the house; when he commanded voice to say:
'You permit, then, the renewal of my old privilege?--'
'Permit! I wish for it!'
They were now at the door. Edgar, not daring to speak again to Camilla,
and not able to address any one else, took his leave; enchanted that he
was authorized, once more, to inform himself with openness of the state
of her affairs, and of her conduct. And Camilla, dwelling with delight
upon the discernment of Mrs. Arlbery, blest the happy penetration that
had endowed her with courage to speak again to Edgar in terms of
friendship and confidence.
Mrs. Mittin, declaring she could not eat till she had seen what could be
done for the hat of Miss Tyrold, accompanied her upstairs, took it off
herself, wiped it, smoothed, and tried to new arrange it; and, at last,
failing to succeed, insisted upon taking it home, to put it in order,
and promised to return it in the morning time enough for the Pantiles.
Camilla was much ashamed; but she had no means to buy another, and she
had now lost her indifference to going abroad. She thought, therefore,
this new acquaintance at least as useful as she was officious, and
accepted her civility with thanks.