PLAYERS.
"He went out a-riding one fine day
The countryside to see."
In happy ignorance of the reports which reached Kophetua's ears,
Penelophon continued with the players. Indeed, she could not have done
otherwise; for though she was treated kindly enough, yet Bocco, the
_arlecchino_, who had made the bargain with the Queen-mother, and
Frampa, the old actress, his partner, took good care that she should not
escape. She was far too valuable to lose. The firm of Bocco and Frampa,
sole lessees and managers of the rumbling old caravans which were stage
and dwelling and all, fully appreciated the prize they had captured, and
were determined to watch it carefully.
The payment which the Queen-mother had promised on account of the girl
made her precious enough to be a thing worth careful tending; but the
professional eyes of the managers saw in their _protégée_ further
possibilities of profit, which they valued even more highly. With the
ready discrimination of old fanciers, they rapidly noted her points as
soon as she was in their charge. They remarked complacently her graceful
figure, her delicately moulded features, her great lustrous eyes, her
wealth of silky hair, and the thrilling earnestness of her voice, and
they nodded to each other with the solemn satisfaction of those who
know.
"It is the most promising material I ever remember handling," said Bocco
profoundly.
"You are right, Bocco," answered Frampa, with the air of a
_connaisseuse_ who does not praise lightly. "She is a little pale and
sickly, of course, for my taste as she is; but fine feathers make fine
birds. With a smart costume to show off her figure, and a good rouging,
call me a dolt if I don't turn her over to you the prettiest bit that
was ever on our boards."
"And trust me to do the rest," replied Bocco, with enthusiasm. "She was
born for an actress--so sensitive, so tender, so intelligent. What stuff
to work on! Ah! I have a chance at last. Think what I have done for that
lump of stupidity and dulness, Nora, and picture to yourself what the
same hand will do with this piece of pure gold. But do you think you
will bring her to it easily, Frampa? She seems a shy, silly little
thing."
"Trust me, Bocco," said Frampa, with dignity. "I am no journeyman. I
know my trade. You do your part, and trust me to do mine. It is not the
first."
"Right, Frampa," answered Bocco, with respect. "You are a genius. She
will tax you hard if I read her right; but you are a genius."
Bocco was not mistaken. Frampa found she had a hard task before her. All
she could say or do could not draw from Penelophon the slightest
expression of a desire to appear on the stage; and when the old actress
went further, and hinted how nice it would be for her to stand up like
Nora before the people, and hear them shout and clap with delight,
Penelophon only shuddered and looked like a frightened fawn. Indeed, the
very presence of the other actresses was painful to her. Frampa she did
not mind so much, for the manageress never acted now. She was too old
and fat for anything but taking the money and dressing the girls. She
had a not unpleasant face, with hard wrinkles and bright dark eyes, and
a great double chin that had taken entire possession of the room once
enjoyed by her neck. Her ways were so kindly, too, that Penelophon could
be almost happy with her when she was not teasing her to act.
The very idea of that grew more painful to her each day. To see Nora
sitting bold and brazen in her paint and shameless attire on the gaudy
car, in which the company were wont to exhibit themselves through the
villages, was too shocking for her to bear. She used to go and hide in
Frampa's cart, and try to think of Trecenito, that she might shut out
the wickedness that surrounded her.
Bocco was more successful with his part. He began by coming to the
lonely girl, and repeating verses to amuse her. Then he asked her to try
and say them, and his bright black eyes looked at her so strangely that
she dared not refuse. She grew afraid of him and the strange power in
his sharp face which seemed to fascinate her. So she always tried hard
to remember what he read to her, and say it as he did to please him, and
make him go away and not stare at her.
After Penelophon had been with the players some weeks, to all these
troubles a new one was added. For one day, while Nora was riding her
brazen course round a village which they had reached the night before,
and Penelophon was hiding in Frampa's cart, she saw the door stealthily
open, and the face of a man peep in and look at her. He said nothing,
but went away as quietly as he came. Presently the door opened once
more, and the strange face was there again with another. Suddenly, just
as she thought they were coming in, and she was cowering down as close
as she could in her corner, the door shut, and she heard the sound of
feet hurrying away. Then Bocco came in, looking very angry.
"Do you know those men?" he asked, in his sharp way.
"No," answered Penelophon. "Why do they come to look at me?"
"Because they are bad," answered the _arlecchino_. "If they ask you to
go with them, be sure you do not. They are very bad. If they try to take
you, cry out for me, and I will blast them with an evil eye. They dare
not let me look on them as I know how. They will run away if you call
out."
Bocco indeed had considerable faith in the power of his eye; but perhaps
he told Penelophon a little more than he actually believed; still he was
generally credited by his acquaintances with the evil eye, and he made
the best use of his reputation. Now he wished to complete his influence
over Penelophon, for he felt it was more than ever necessary. For some
days he had had a suspicion that he was being followed by some men of
mysterious manners, and he shrewdly suspected their attentions were due
to the presence of Penelophon in the caravan. Frampa and he apprehended
an attempt to carry her off, and the chance of losing their hopeful
_protégée_ increased their anxiety to make use of her.
This last discovery of Bocco's so alarmed him that he made up his mind
to leave the village secretly by night, and go on to the next, in hopes
of eluding his pursuers. There the caravan arrived on the following
morning, and Bocco felt himself comparatively safe; for on the
precipitous rock above the village hung the royal hunting-tower. The
King was there, he knew, and from this he hoped great things. The
mysterious persecution of which he found himself the object determined
him to waste no more time over Penelophon's scruples.
"It is of absolute necessity," he said to Frampa, "that she must act.
She must be forced or cheated into it at once."
"Yes, Bocco," answered Frampa. "We must not leave her alone; it is not
safe."
"And, besides," said Bocco, "there is a greater reason still. Some of
the castle servants are sure to be at our performance. They cannot but
be struck with the child, and the King will hear of her."
"And will order a special performance," exclaimed Frampa eagerly.
"And will give us a protection," said Bocco.
"Splendid!" cried Frampa. "No one is so clever as you, Bocco."
So the two set about a scheme of which poor Penelophon soon found
herself the victim. It was growing very hot, and towards the middle of
the day the girl had crept into a quiet place to sleep. It was a little
shed leading out of the barn which Bocco had hired for a theatre. It was
Frampa's private room, but as Penelophon slept in her cart she felt she
was free of the little shed too; so she spread her quilt in a corner,
and, casting off her outer clothes, lay down to sleep.
Her slumber was disturbed. She had never really recovered from the
effects of the rough treatment she had received at Turbo's hands. The
heat made her feverish, and the memory of what Bocco had told her of the
bad men took shape in troubled dreams. At last she awoke, unrefreshed,
and with an aching head. She thought she would go out into the air; but
when she sat up to reach her dress, she saw lying in its place a flimsy,
spangled thing, such as Nora wore on the stage. She took it up to
discover what the change might mean, but she dropped it quickly when she
saw how scanty and evil-looking it was, and lay down again with a
flushed face. Then the door opened, and she saw Frampa come in.
"O Frampa!" she said, still blushing at the thought of the thing on her
bed, "some one has taken my clothes and left me that. O Frampa! go and
see who has done it, and bring them back."
"Why, deary," said Frampa, "what is the matter? I did it myself. The bad
men have followed us here. So Nora is going to wear your clothes, and I
have got this for you to put on, so that the men will not know you.
Come, I will help you put it on."
"O Frampa!" said Penelophon, with a shudder, "I cannot; indeed, I
cannot. I should die of shame."
"Tut, tut, deary!" said Frampa, "be a woman. You need not be afraid. You
can stay here all alone, and no one will see you. So come now and put it
on, and make yourself safe."
"But are you sure no one will see me?" asked Penelophon.
"Why, of course not, child," answered Frampa cheerily. "You know no one
can come here but I. There, there, that's a little woman." Frampa raised
up her _protégée_ as she spoke with motherly tenderness, and Penelophon,
trembling from head to foot, allowed herself to be clad in the actress's
dress. But when it was on, and she saw how flaunting and shameless it
was, and how it hardly covered her more than her own shift, she buried
her face in her hands and began to cry.
"There, there, deary," cried Frampa soothingly, "don't take on so. 'Tis
nothing to cry over. Many a bonny lass would jump for joy to make such a
pretty figure as you do now."
"I know, I know!" sobbed Penelophon, whose trouble was only increased by
Frampa's admiration, "but I cannot help it. I will try to bear it
because you are so kind; but I am so unhappy, and O Frampa! my head
aches past bearing."
"Well, never mind," cooed Frampa; "have a good cry and lie down a bit.
There now, that is it. Shut your eyes, and let me charm your pain away."
So Penelophon did as she was told, and soon felt that Frampa was
stroking her face with something very pleasant and soft, while she sang
a low-toned charm like a lullaby. It was soothing, and seemed to take
away the pain. So Penelophon lay quite still and left off crying.
Frampa's conjuring had gone on for some time, when all at once the door
opened and she stopped. Penelophon looked up. Bocco's sharp face and
bright black eyes were peering in.
"They are here!" he cried, in affected alarm. "Quick, Frampa, bring her
away. She is not safe there. Bring her along and hide her."
"Come, child," said Frampa, in great agitation, as the door closed
again. "Quick! jump up; we will foil them yet."
Penelophon rose mechanically in her alarm, and Frampa half led, half
dragged her to the door; but just as she reached it she caught sight of
a face she hardly knew in Frampa's mirror, which hung there upon the
wall. For a moment she stopped and took another look. Then with a low
cry of horror she dragged her hand from Frampa's and started back,
staring at her conductor with a look in which terror struggled with
reproach.
"O Frampa!" she cried, in a hushed voice of anguish, "what have you
done? You have painted my face. Oh, how wicked! how very wicked of you!"
"Nonsense, child!" cried Frampa, getting a little vexed. "It is only to
disguise you better. Come along quick, or it will be too late."
She took her by the wrist again, but Penelophon hung back from her in
disgust. Just then the door opened and Bocco rushed in again.
"Quick, my girl," he said, as, heedless of her fear, he took her other
wrist and looked her hard in the face. "Do what I bid you, and all will
be well. But, mind, do as I say."
Then she gave herself up to her fate. There was something she could not
resist in this man, and she let them lead her right through the barn.
Outside she saw the tawdry car standing ready, with all the men and
girls upon it, except Nora, whose place at the top was vacant. They all
laughed and whispered together when Penelophon appeared, but she had no
time to heed them.
"Come, child," said Bocco sharply, "climb with me; it is your only
chance."
The car was a kind of pyramid, on the flattened apex of which stood a
stanchion with a gilded belt of metal attached to it. It was to this
that Nora was always fastened to prevent her falling with the jolting of
the car. Powerless for further resistance, Penelophon soon found
herself standing in Nora's place, ready to sink with fear and shame. But
Bocco clasped the iron girdle tightly about her waist, and then got down
to his own post in front. In another moment the music struck up, and the
car began to move on its progress through the crowded village.
The people shouted as they passed, for in their eyes Penelophon was a
beautiful sight, with her gaudy attire and high colour. Bocco never
ceased to crack his jokes, as the car laboured on towards the
market-place; and the more he joked the louder the people shouted. The
music grew wilder and wilder, and every one seemed half mad with
excitement, till it was all like a horrible dream to Penelophon. Her
thoughts seemed to be part of the scream of the fifes, and the squeaking
of the fiddles, and the hurried clatter of the drum. They mixed
helplessly with the wanton din and got lost. Then it was as though it
were some one else who was fastened there and not herself. She thought
she was going mad. The throb and clatter of the mocking music had stolen
all her senses. Once she threw up her bare arms and screamed, but the
people only shouted "Brava! brava!" to her, and tossed up their caps in
delight. She covered her ears to shut out the clamour, but it pierced
through all. She tried to throw herself down, but the iron girdle
pressed tightly about her waist, and she could not move. It seemed to be
gripping her closer and closer, as though some vile thing had her in its
embrace. At last everything swam before her, and she felt the end had
come, when suddenly the music stopped, and the car came to a standstill
in the middle of the crowded market-place.
Some one was answering Bocco smartly out of the throng, and the people
were jeering at him. The _arlecchino_ was not used to rivalry, and when
he found he could not silence his antagonist he began to lose his temper
and take to abuse. But he got nothing for his pains, except a large
vegetable in his face, thrown by an unerring hand. In a moment he had
leaped from his place to the ground, and was belabouring his assailant
with his baton, for he was a high-spirited fellow enough when roused.
Some of the company rushed to their chief's assistance, and fell upon
his adversary's friends. As for the bystanders, they took one side or
the other, or none at all, as it suited them; but every one shouted, and
the girls on the car added their frightened screams to the clamour.
The fray was growing fast and furious, cudgels were whirling on all
sides, and blood was beginning to flow, when some half-dozen men, in the
uniform of the Chancellor's runners, were seen making a way towards the
car, where the fight was thickest. They used their halberts freely, and
shouted as they came on, "Peace! peace! in the Chancellor's name!"
So great was respect for the laws in Oneiria, that something like order
was very soon obtained, and the runners set to work to secure the
players. Still, it was not all done in a moment, and before the men were
all manacled the girls had found time to run away and hide themselves,
with the help of sympathising townsmen. Only Penelophon was left
standing on the top of the car, unable to escape from the grip of her
supports.
"Bring down the girl, one of you," cried the leader of the Chancellor's
men, and Penelophon shuddered anew to see a rough fellow climbing up the
car to her. But now a new diversion was made by the approach of the town
bailiff, with his constables at his back. He came ruffling up to the
Chancellor's men, swelling with offended dignity.
"Who is this," he cried, "that dares to make arrest in a royal borough?
It is I, the King's bailiff, who have jurisdiction here. Come, hand over
your prisoners at once, or I will clap you all in jail together."
But the Chancellor's men, armed with a special warrant, and fortified
with the dignity of their uniform, had no idea of giving up their prize.
A violent altercation ensued between the bailiff and the head runner.
The man at Penelophon's side leaped down to his chief's assistance, and
two of the constables, anxious to make a point, at once took possession
of her. This only made the runners more angry. They flatly refused to
surrender their prisoners to any paltry bailiff. They were Chancellor's
men, they said, and would take a man in the King's own privy chamber if
it pleased his excellency to order it.
"Well, we will soon see who is the better man," cried the infuriated
bailiff, as the runners began to retreat, with the players in the midst
of them. "Clap the girl in the stocks, one of you--we will keep her at
any rate--and then run for the watch, and bid them come after me. I will
keep an eye on these curs meanwhile; and then we will see who is King
and who is Chancellor."
Penelophon soon found herself led out of the throng by one of the
constables towards the upper end of the market-place, where the stocks
stood waiting for her. She shrank in terror as she saw them, but the man
dragged her on. The leg-holes looked like great wicked eyes gloating
over her, and the whole thing seemed to the poor girl's fevered sense
like some ugly monster, squatting down and waiting in hideous glee to
devour her.
Most of the people followed the bailiff, so as not to lose the end of
his quarrel with the Chancellor's men, but a good many stayed to see
Penelophon put into the stocks. They gathered round, grinning and
jesting, as the constable sat her down in the low settle at the back.
Ready to sink with shame, she covered her face with her hands, while the
man lifted the hinge-board and made her feet fast. She thought the worst
was done then, but rough hands took hers and drew them from her face.
"Come, lass," said the man, laughing, "I want these too."
Then she saw the iron clamps on the two side-posts, and knew what he was
going to do. "Not that, sir, not that!" she cried wildly; "for God's
sake, leave me my hands to hide my shame!"
"Willingly, lass," the constable said mockingly, "if you can pay for
them, but we can't let you hide a pretty face like yours without buying
the privilege."
"But I have no money?" she moaned imploringly.
"So much the worse for both of us," said the man; "we shall neither of
us have what we want."
Without further ceremony he fastened one little wrist against the
side-post with the iron clamp, and then did the same with the other; and
so, after a quiet survey of his work, strode off, and left her to the
jeers of the little crowd that had gathered.
Poor Penelophon! her cup was filled now past all endurance. When she
looked down, it was but to find the spangled dress, which to her was
like a robe of Nessus. When she turned her eyes from that, it was only
to see the staring townsfolk, and listen to their jeers at the painted
face she could not hide. She felt each moment she would die. Such agony
could not last long.
Fortunately it was not many minutes, though to her it seemed hours,
before she had some relief. A fellow came running by, crying out that
the bailiff had taken all the Chancellor's men, and was haling them to
the court-house for summary justice. With that Penelophon's tormentors
took to their heels and ran after the new excitement.
So she was left alone for half an hour or more. Her position began to
grow very painful. Her feet were cramped, and the irons hurt her tender
wrists, and it was a strange, undefined misery to be fastened there so
long unable to move. But in a moment she forgot it all, when she heard
men coming again into the deserted market-place. To be seen was the
worst pain of all. She could hear the sound of horses' feet coming
slowly across the square towards where she was fastened. In the
bitterness of shame she hung her head, till she heard the horses stop in
front of her. Then, feeling anything was better than the sight of the
shameless dress that clothed her, she looked up.
With a cry of anguish she dragged at the clamps in a frantic impulse to
hide her painted face; for there, upon his horse, erect and handsome,
and sad past words, sat Trecenito, looking at her.
For a moment their eyes met, but only for a moment. She saw him give a
sort of shudder of disgust. She saw him turn with a bitter laugh to
Captain Pertinax, who rode behind him, and heard him say of her a thing
so terrible that it seemed to drive the very life from her heart. Like
one in a swoon, she saw a vision of her angel angrily spurring his
horse, and knew he had dashed away furiously out of the square with
Pertinax at his heels.