to hear the opinions of these young ladies, to whom all public places must, as yet, be new.”
We both, and with eagerness, declared that we had received as much, if not more pleasure, at the opera than any where: but we had better have been silent; for the Captain, quite displeased, said, “What signifies asking them girls? Do you think they know their own minds yet? Ask ’em after any thing that’s called diversion, and you’re sure they’ll say it’s vastly fine — they are a set of parrots, and speak by rote, for they all say the same thing: but ask ’em how they like making puddings and pies, and I’ll warrant you’ll pose ’em. As to them operas, I desire I may hear no more of their liking such nonsense; and for you, Moll” (to his daughter,) “I charge you, as you value my favour, that you’ll never again be so impertinent as to have a taste of your own before my face. There are fools enough in the world, without your adding to their number. I’ll have no daughter of mine affect them sort of megrims. It is a shame they a’n’t put down; and if I’d my will, there’s not a magistrate in this town but should be knocked on the head for suffering them. If you’ve a mind to praise any thing, why you may praise a play, and welcome, for I like it myself.”
This reproof effectually silenced us both for the rest of the evening. Nay, indeed, for some minutes it seemed to silence every body else; till Mr. Lovel, not willing to lose an opportunity of returning the Captain’s sarcasm, said, “Why, really Sir, it is but natural to be most pleased with what is most familiar; and, I think, of all our diversions, there is not one so much in common between us and the country as a play. Not a village but has its barns and comedians; and as for the stage business, why it may be pretty equally done any where; and even in regard to us, and the canaille, confined as we all are within the semi-circle of a theatre, there is no place where the distinction is less obvious.”
While the Captain seemed considering for Mr. Lovel’s meaning, Lord Orville, probably with a view to prevent his finding it, changed the subject to Cox’s Museum, and asked what he thought of it?
“Think! —“said he, “why I think as how it i’n’t worth thinking about. I like no such jemcracks. It is only fit, in my mind, for monkeys:— though, for aught I know, they too might turn up their noses at it.”
“May we ask your Lordship’s own opinion?” said Mrs. Mirvan.
“The mechanism,” answered he, “is wonderfully ingenioous: I am sorry it is turned to no better account; but its purport is so frivolous, so very remote from all aim at instruction or utility, that the sight of so fine a show leaves a regret on the mind, that so much work, and so much ingenuity, should not be better bestowed.”
“The truth is,” said the Captain, “that in all this huge town, so full as it is of folks of all sorts, there i’n’t so much as one public place, besides the play-house, where a man, that’s to say, a man who is a man, ought not to be ashamed to shew his face. T’other day they got me to a ridotto: but, I believe, it will be long enough before they get me to another. I knew no more what to do with myself, than if my ship’s company had been metamorphosed into Frenchman. Then, again, there’s your famous Ranelagh, that you make such a fuss about; — why what a dull place is that! — it’s the worst of all.”
“Ranelagh dull!”—“Ranelagh dull! — was echoed from mouth to mouth; and all the ladies, as if of one accord, regarded the Captain with looks of the most ironical contempt.
“As to Ranelagh,” said Mr. Lovell, “most indubitably, though the price is blebian, it is by no means adapted to the plebian taste. It requires a certain acquaintance with high life, and — and — and something of — of — something d’un vrai gout, to be really sensible of its merit. Those whose — whose connections, and so forth, are not among les gens comme il faut, can feel nothing but ennui at such a place as Ranelagh.”
“Ranelagh!” cried Lord — “O, tis the divinest place under heaven — or, indeed — for aught I know —”
“O you creature!” cried a pretty, but affected young lady, patting him with her fan, “you sha’n’t talk so; I know what you are going to say; but, positively, I won’t sit by you, if you’re so wicked.”
“And how can one sit by you, and be good?” said he, “when only to look at you is enough to make one wicked — or wish to be so?”
“Fie, my Lord!” returned she, “you really are insufferable. I don’t think I shall speak to you again these seven years.”
“What a metamorphosis,” cried Lord Orville,” should you make a patriarch of his Lordship.”
“Seven years!” said he, “dear Madam, be contented with telling me you will not speak to me after seven years, and I will endeavour to submit.”
“O, very well, my Lord,” answered she, “pray date the end of our speaking to each other as early as you please, I’ll promise to agree to your time.”
“You know, dear Madam,” said he, sipping his tea, “you know I only live in your sight.”
“O yes, my Lord, I have long known that. But I begin to fear we shall be too late for Ranelagh this evening.”
“O no, Madame,” said Mr. Lovel, looking at his watch, “it is but just past ten.”
“No more!” cried she, “O then we shall do very well.”
All the ladies now started up, and declared they had no time to lose.
“Why, what the D— l,” cried the Captain, leaning forward with both his arms on the table,” are you going to Ranelagh at this time of night?”
The ladies looked at one another, and smiled.
“To Ranelagh?” cried Lord — “yes, and I hope you are going too; for we cannot possibly excuse these ladies.”
“I go to Ranelagh? — if I do, I’ll be —.”
Everybody now stood up; and the stranger Lord, coming round to me, said, “You go, I hope?”
“No, my Lord, I believe not.”
“O you cannot, must not be so barbarous.” And he took my hand, and ran on, saying such fine speeches, and compliments, that I might almost have supposed myself a goddess, and him a pagan paying me adoration. As soon as I possibly could, I drew back my hand; but he frequently, in the course of conversation, contrived to take it again, though it was extremely disagreeable to me; and the more so, as I saw that Lord Orville had his eyes fixed upon us, with a gravity of attention that made me uneasy.
And, surely, my dear Sir, it was a great liberty in this lord, not withstanding his rank, to treat me so freely. As to Sir Clement, he seemed in misery.
They all endeavoured to prevail with the Captain to join the Ranelagh party; and this lord told me, in a low voice, that it was tearing his heart out to go without me.
During this conversation Mr. Lovel came forward, and assuming a look of surprise, made me a bow, and inquired how I did, protesting upon his honour, that he had not seen me before, or would have sooner paid his respects to me.
Though his politeness was evidently constrained, yet I was very glad to be thus assured of having nothing more to fear from him.
The
