Godolphin, Complete - Бульвер-Литтон Эдвард Джордж 3 стр.

Luckily for Percy, he was an especial favourite with a certain not uncelebrated character of the name of Saville; and Saville claimed the privilege of a relation to supply him with money and receive him at his home. Wild, passionate, fond to excess of pleasure, the young Godolphin caught eagerly at these occasional visits; and at each his mind, keen and penetrating as it naturally was, took new flights, and revelled in new views. He was already the leader of his school, the torment of the master, and the lover of the masters daughter. He was sixteen years old, but a character. A secret pride, a secret bitterness, and an open wit and recklessness of bearing, rendered him to all seeming a boy more endowed with energies than affections. Yet a kind word from a friends lips was never without its effect on him, and he might have been led by the silk while he would have snapped the chain. But these were his boyish traits of mind: the world soon altered them.

The subject of the visit to Saville was not again touched upon. A little reflection showed Mr. Godolphin how nugatory were the promises of a schoolboy that he should not cost his father another shilling; and he knew that Savilles house was not exactly the spot in which economy was best learned. He thought it, therefore, more prudent that his son should return to school.

To school went Percy Godolphin; and about three weeks afterwards, Percy Godolphin was condemned to expulsion for returning, with considerable unction, a slap in the face that he had received from Dr. Shallowell. Instead of waiting for his fathers arrival, Percy made up a small bundle of clothes, let himself drop, by the help of the bed-curtains, from the window of the room in which he was confined, and towards the close of a fine summers evening, found himself on the highroad between and London, with independence at his heart and (Savilles last gift) ten guineas in his pocket.

CHAPTER IV

It was a fine, picturesque outline of road on which the young outcast found himself journeying, whither he neither knew nor cared. His heart was full of enterprise and the unfledged valour of inexperience. He had proceeded several miles, and the dusk of the evening was setting in, when he observed a stage-coach crawling heavily up a hill, a little ahead of him, and a tall, well-shaped man, walking alongside of it, and gesticulating somewhat violently. Godolphin remarked him with some curiosity; and the man, turning abruptly round, perceived, and in his turn noticed very inquisitively, the person and aspect of the young traveller.

And how now? said he, presently, and in an agreeable, though familiar and unceremonious tone of voice; whither are you bound this time of day?

It is no business of yours, friend, said the boy with the proud petulance of his age; mind what belongs to yourself.

You are sharp on me, young sir, returned the other; but it is our business to be loquacious. Know, sir,and the stranger frownedthat we have ordered many a taller fellow than yourself to execution for a much smaller insolence than you seem capable of.

A laugh from the coach caused Godolphin to lift up his eyes, and he saw the door of the vehicle half-open, as if for coolness, and an arch female face looking down on him.

You are merry on me, I see, said Percy; come out, and Ill be even with you, pretty one.

The lady laughed yet more loudly at the premature gallantry of the traveller; but the man, without heeding her, and laying his hand on Percys shoulder, said

Pray, sir, do you live at B? naming the town they were now approaching.

Not I, said Godolphin, freeing himself from the intrusion.

You will, perhaps, sleep there?

Perhaps I shall.

You are too young to travel alone.

And you are too old to make such impertinent remarks, retorted Godolphin, reddening with anger.

Faith, I like this spirit, my Hotspur, said the stranger, coolly. If you are really going to put up for the night at B, suppose we sup together?

And who and what are you? asked Percy, bluntly.

Anything and everything! in other words, an actor!

And the young lady?

Is our prima donna. In fact, except the driver, the coach holds none but the ladies and gentlemen of our company. We have made an excellent harvest at A, and we are now on our way to the theatre at B; pretty theatre it is, too, and has been known to hold seventy-one pounds eight shillings. Here the actor fell into a reverie; and Percy, moving nearer to the coach-door, glanced at the damsel, who returned the look with a laugh which, though coquettish, was too low and musical to be called cold.

So that gentleman, so free and easy in his manners, is not your husband?

Heaven forbid! Do you think I should be so gay if he were? But, pooh! what can you know of married life? No! she continued, with a pretty air of mock dignity; I am the Belvidera, the Calista, of the company; above all control, all husbanding, and reaping thirty-three shillings a week.

But are you above lovers as well as husbands? asked Percy with a rakish air, borrowed from Saville.

Bless the boy! No: but then my lovers must be at least as tall, and at least as rich, and, I am afraid, at least as old, as myself.

Dont frighten yourself, my dear, returned Percy; I was not about to make love to you.

Were you not? Yes, you were, and you know it. But why will you not sup with us?

Why not, indeed? thought Percy, as the idea, thus more enticingly put than it was at first, pressed upon him. If you ask me, he said, I will.

I do ask you, then, said the actress; and here the hero of the company turned abruptly round with a theatrical start, and exclaimed, To sup or not to sup? that is the question.

To sup, sir, said Godolphin.

Very well! I am glad to hear it. Had you not better mount and rest yourself in the coach? You can take my placeI am studying a new part. We have two miles farther to B yet.

Percy accepted the invitation, and was soon by the side of the pretty actress. The horses broke into a slow trot, and thus delighted with his adventure, the son of the ascetic Godolphin, the pupil of the courtly Saville, entered the town of B, and commenced his first independent campaign in the great world.

CHAPTER V

Our travellers stopped at the first inn in the outskirts of the town. Here they were shown into a large room on the ground-floor, sanded, with a long table in the centre; and, before the supper was served, Percy had leisure to examine all the companions with whom he had associated himself.

In the first place, there was an old gentleman, of the age of sixty-three, in a bob-wig, and inclined to be stout, who always played the lover. He was equally excellent in the pensive Romeo and the bustling Rapid. He had an ill way of talking off the stage, partly because he had lost all his front teeth: a circumstance which made him avoid, in general, those parts in which he had to force a great deal of laughter. Next, there was a little girl, of about fourteen, who played angels, fairies, and, at a pinch, was very effective as an old woman. Thirdly, there was our free-and-easy cavalier, who, having a loud voice and a manly presence, usually performed the tyrant. He was great in Macbeth, greater in Bombastes Furioso. Fourthly, came this gentlemans wife, a pretty, slatternish woman, much painted. She usually performed the second femalethe confidante, the chambermaidthe Emilia to the Desdemona. And fifthly, was Percys new inamorata,a girl of about one-and-twenty, fair, with a nez retrousse: beautiful auburn hair, that was always a little dishevelled; the prettiest mouth, teeth, and dimple imaginable; a natural colour; and a person that promised to incline hereafter towards that roundness of proportion which is more dear to the sensual than the romantic. This girl, whose name was Fanny Millinger, was of so frank, good-humoured, and lively a turn, that she was the idol of the whole company, and her superiority in acting was never made a matter of jealousy. Actors may believe this, or not, as they please.

In the first place, there was an old gentleman, of the age of sixty-three, in a bob-wig, and inclined to be stout, who always played the lover. He was equally excellent in the pensive Romeo and the bustling Rapid. He had an ill way of talking off the stage, partly because he had lost all his front teeth: a circumstance which made him avoid, in general, those parts in which he had to force a great deal of laughter. Next, there was a little girl, of about fourteen, who played angels, fairies, and, at a pinch, was very effective as an old woman. Thirdly, there was our free-and-easy cavalier, who, having a loud voice and a manly presence, usually performed the tyrant. He was great in Macbeth, greater in Bombastes Furioso. Fourthly, came this gentlemans wife, a pretty, slatternish woman, much painted. She usually performed the second femalethe confidante, the chambermaidthe Emilia to the Desdemona. And fifthly, was Percys new inamorata,a girl of about one-and-twenty, fair, with a nez retrousse: beautiful auburn hair, that was always a little dishevelled; the prettiest mouth, teeth, and dimple imaginable; a natural colour; and a person that promised to incline hereafter towards that roundness of proportion which is more dear to the sensual than the romantic. This girl, whose name was Fanny Millinger, was of so frank, good-humoured, and lively a turn, that she was the idol of the whole company, and her superiority in acting was never made a matter of jealousy. Actors may believe this, or not, as they please.

But is this all your company? said Percy.

All? no! replied Fanny, taking off her bonnet, and curling up her tresses by the help of a dim glass. The rest are provided at the theatre along with the candle-snuffer and scene-shifters part of the fixed property. Why wont you take to the stage? I wish you would! you would make a very respectablepage.

Upon my word! said Percy, exceedingly offended.

Come, come! cried the actress, clapping her hands, and perfectly unheeding his displeasurewhy dont you help me off with my cloak?why dont you set me a chair?why dont you take this great box out of my way?why dont youHeaven help me! and she stamped her little foot quite seriously on the floor. A pretty person for a lover you are!

Oho! then I am a lover, you acknowledge?

Nonsense!get a chair next me at supper.

The young Godolphin was perfectly fascinated by the lively actress; and it was with no small interest that he stationed himself the following night in the stage-box of the little theatre at , to see how his Fanny acted. The house was tolerably well filled, and the play was She Stoops to Conquer. The male parts were, on the whole, respectably managed; though Percy was somewhat surprised to observe that a man, who had joined the corps that morning, blessed with the most solemn countenance in the worlda fine Roman nose, and a forehead like a sageswas now dressed in nankeen tights, and a coat without skirts, splitting the sides of the gallery in the part of Tony Lumpkin. But into the heroine, Fanny Millinger threw a grace, a sweetness, a simple, yet dignified spirit of trite love that at once charmed and astonished all present. The applause was unbounded; and Percy Godolphin felt proud of himself for having admired one whom every one else seemed also resolved upon admiring.

When the comedy was finished, he went behind the scenes, and for the first time felt the rank which intellect bestows. This idle girl, with whom he had before been so familiar; who had seemed to him, boy as he was, only made for jesting and coquetry, and trifling, he now felt to be raised to a sudden eminence that startled and abashed him. He became shy and awkward, and stood at a distance stealing a glance towards her, but without the courage to approach and compliment her.

The quick eye of the actress detected the effect she had produced. She was naturally pleased at it, and coming up to Godolphin, she touched his shoulder, and with a smile rendered still more brilliant by the rouge yet unwashed from the dimpled cheeks, saidWell, most awkward swain? no flattery ready for me? Go to! you wont suit me: get yourself another empress.

You have pleased me into respecting you, said Godolphin.

There was a delicacy in the expression that was very characteristic of the real mind of the speaker, though that mind was not yet developed; and the pretty actress was touched by it at the moment, though, despite the grace of her acting, she was by nature far too volatile to think it at all advantageous to be respected in the long run. She did not act in the afterpiece, and Godolphin escorted her home to the inn.

So long as his ten guineas lastedwhich the reader will conceive was not very longGodolphin stayed with the gay troop, as the welcome lover of its chief ornament. To her he confided his name and history: she laughed heartily at the latterfor she was one of Venuss true children, fond of striking mirth out of all subjects. But what, said she, patting his cheek affectionately, what should hinder you from joining us for a little while? I could teach you to be an actor in three lessons. Come now, attend! It is but a mere series of tricks, this art that seems to you so admirable.

Godolphin grew embarrassed. There was in him a sort of hidden pride that could never endure to subject itself to the censure of others. He had no propensity to imitation, and he had a strong susceptibility to the ridiculous. These traits of mind thus early developedwhich in later life prevented his ever finding fit scope for his natural powers, which made him too proud to bustle, and too philosophical to shinewere of service to him on this occasion, and preserved him from the danger into which he might otherwise have fallen. He could not be persuaded to act: the fair Fanny gave up the attempt in despair. Yet stay with us, said she, tenderly, and share my poor earnings.

Godolphin started; and in the wonderful contradictions of the proud human heart, this generous offer from the poor actress gave him a distaste, a displeasure, that almost reconciled him to parting from her. It seemed to open to him at once the equivocal mode of life he had entered upon. No, Fanny, said he, after a pause, I am here because I resolved to be independent: I cannot, therefore, choose dependence.

Miss Millinger is wanted instantly for rehearsal, said the little girl who acted fairies and old women, putting her head suddenly into the room.

Bless me! cried Fanny, starting up; is it so late? Well, I must go now. Good-bye! look in upon usdo!

But Godolphin, moody and thoughtful, walked into the street; and lo! the first thing that greeted his eyes was a handbill on the wall, describing his own person, and offering twenty guineas reward for his detention. Let him return to his afflicted parent, was the conclusion of the bill, and all shall be forgiven.

Godolphin crept back to his apartment; wrote a long, affectionate letter to Fanny; inclosed her his watch, as the only keepsake in his power; gave her his address at Savilles; and then, towards dusk, once more sallied forth, and took a place in the mail for London. He had no money for his passage, but his appearance was such that the coachman readily trusted him; and the next morning at daybreak he was under Savilles roof.

CHAPTER VI

And so, said Saville, laughing, you really gave them the slip: excellent! But I envy you your adventures with the player folk. Gad! if I were some years younger, I would join them myself; I should act Sir Pertinax Macsycophant famously; I have a touch of the mime in me. Well! but what do you propose to do?live with me?eh!