CHAPTER V
Marionetta felt secure of Scythrop's heart; and notwithstanding thedifficulties that surrounded her, she could not debar herself from thepleasure of tormenting her lover, whom she kept in a perpetual fever.Sometimes she would meet him with the most unqualified affection;sometimes with the most chilling indifference; rousing him to anger byartificial coldness--softening him to love by eloquent tenderness--orinflaming him to jealousy by coquetting with the Honourable MrListless, who seemed, under her magical influence, to burst intosudden life, like the bud of the evening primrose. Sometimes she wouldsit by the piano, and listen with becoming attention to Scythrop'spathetic remonstrances; but, in the most impassioned part of hisoratory, she would convert all his ideas into a chaos, by striking upsome Rondo Allegro, and saying, 'Is it not pretty?' Scythrop wouldbegin to storm; and she would answer him with,
'Zitti, zitti, piano, piano, Non facciamo confusione,'
or some similar _facezia_, till he would start away from her, andenclose himself in his tower, in an agony of agitation, vowing torenounce her, and her whole sex, for ever; and returning to herpresence at the summons of the billet, which she never failed tosend with many expressions of penitence and promises of amendment.Scythrop's schemes for regenerating the world, and detecting his sevengolden candle-sticks, went on very slowly in this fever of his spirit.
Things proceeded in this train for several days; and Mr Glowry beganto be uneasy at receiving no intelligence from Mr Toobad; when oneevening the latter rushed into the library, where the family and thevisitors were assembled, vociferating, 'The devil is come amongyou, having great wrath!' He then drew Mr Glowry aside into anotherapartment, and after remaining some time together, they re-entered thelibrary with faces of great dismay, but did not condescend to explainto any one the cause of their discomfiture.
The next morning, early, Mr Toobad departed. Mr Glowry sighed andgroaned all day, and said not a word to any one. Scythrop hadquarrelled, as usual, with Marionetta, and was enclosed in his tower,in a fit of morbid sensibility. Marionetta was comforting herself atthe piano, with singing the airs of _Nina pazza per amore_; and theHonourable Mr Listless was listening to the harmony, as he laysupine on the sofa, with a book in his hand, into which he peeped atintervals. The Reverend Mr Larynx approached the sofa, and proposed agame at billiards.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
Billiards! Really I should be very happy; but, in my present exhaustedstate, the exertion is too much for me. I do not know when I have beenequal to such an effort. (_He rang the bell for his valet. Fatoutentered_.) Fatout! when did I play at billiards last?
FATOUT
De fourteen December de last year, Monsieur. (_Fatout bowed andretired_.)
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
So it was. Seven months ago. You see, Mr Larynx; you see, sir. Mynerves, Miss O'Carroll, my nerves are shattered. I have been advisedto try Bath. Some of the faculty recommend Cheltenham. I think oftrying both, as the seasons don't clash. The season, you know, MrLarynx--the season, Miss O'Carroll--the season is every thing.
MARIONETTA
And health is something. _N'est-ce pas_, Mr Larynx?
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
Most assuredly, Miss O'Carroll. For, however reasoners may disputeabout the _summum bonum_, none of them will deny that a very gooddinner is a very good thing: and what is a good dinner without a goodappetite? and whence is a good appetite but from good health? Now,Cheltenham, Mr Listless, is famous for good appetites.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
The best piece of logic I ever heard, Mr Larynx; the very best,I assure you. I have thought very seriously of Cheltenham: veryseriously and profoundly. I thought of it--let me see--when did Ithink of it? (_He rang again, and Fatout reappeared._) Fatout! whendid I think of going to Cheltenham, and did not go?
FATOUT
De Juillet twenty-von, de last summer, Monsieur. (_Fatout retired._)
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
So it was. An invaluable fellow that, Mr Larynx--invaluable, MissO'Carroll.
MARIONETTA
So I should judge, indeed. He seems to serve you as a walking memory,and to be a living chronicle, not of your actions only, but of yourthoughts.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
An excellent definition of the fellow, Miss O'Carroll,--excellent,upon my honour. Ha! ha! he! Heigho! Laughter is pleasant, but theexertion is too much for me.
A parcel was brought in for Mr Listless; it had been sent express.Fatout was summoned to unpack it; and it proved to contain a newnovel, and a new poem, both of which had long been anxiously expectedby the whole host of fashionable readers; and the last number of apopular Review, of which the editor and his coadjutors were in highfavour at court, and enjoyed ample pensions[5] for their services tochurch and state. As Fatout left the room, Mr Flosky entered, andcuriously inspected the literary arrivals.
MR FLOSKY
(_Turning over the leaves._) 'Devilman, a novel.' Hm. Hatred--revenge--misanthropy--and quotations from the Bible. Hm. This is the morbidanatomy of black bile.--'Paul Jones, a poem.' Hm. I see how it is.Paul Jones, an amiable enthusiast--disappointed in his affections--turns pirate from ennui and magnanimity--cuts various masculinethroats, wins various feminine hearts--is hanged at the yard-arm! Thecatastrophe is very awkward, and very unpoetical.--'The Downing StreetReview.' Hm. First article--An Ode to the Red Book, by RoderickSackbut, Esquire. Hm. His own poem reviewed by himself. Hm--m--m.
(_Mr Flosky proceeded in silence to look over the other articlesof the review; Marionetta inspected the novel, and Mr Listless thepoem._)
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
For a young man of fashion and family, Mr Listless, you seem to be ofa very studious turn.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
Studious! You are pleased to be facetious, Mr Larynx. I hope you donot suspect me of being studious. I have finished my education. Butthere are some fashionable books that one must read, because they areingredients of the talk of the day; otherwise, I am no fonder of booksthan I dare say you yourself are, Mr Larynx.
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
Why, sir, I cannot say that I am indeed particularly fond of books;yet neither can I say that I never do read. A tale or a poem, now andthen, to a circle of ladies over their work, is no very heterodoxemployment of the vocal energy. And I must say, for myself, thatfew men have a more Job-like endurance of the eternally recurringquestions and answers that interweave themselves, on these occasions,with the crisis of an adventure, and heighten the distress of atragedy.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
And very often make the distress when the author has omitted it.
MARIONETTA
I shall try your patience some rainy morning, Mr Larynx; and MrListless shall recommend us the very newest new book, that every bodyreads.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
You shall receive it, Miss O'Carroll, with all the gloss of novelty;fresh as a ripe green-gage in all the downiness of its bloom. Amail-coach copy from Edinburgh, forwarded express from London.
MR FLOSKY
This rage for novelty is the bane of literature. Except my works andthose of my particular friends, nothing is good that is not as old asJeremy Taylor: and, _entre nous_, the best parts of my friends' bookswere either written or suggested by myself.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
Sir, I reverence you. But I must say, modern books are veryconsolatory and congenial to my feelings. There is, as it were, adelightful north-east wind, an intellectual blight breathing throughthem; a delicious misanthropy and discontent, that demonstrates thenullity of virtue and energy, and puts me in good humour with myselfand my sofa.
MR FLOSKY
Very true, sir. Modern literature is a north-east wind--a blight ofthe human soul. I take credit to myself for having helped to make itso. The way to produce fine fruit is to blight the flower. You callthis a paradox. Marry, so be it. Ponder thereon.
The con
versation was interrupted by the re-appearance of Mr Toobad,covered with mud. He just showed himself at the door, muttered 'Thedevil is come among you!' and vanished. The road which connectedNightmare Abbey with the civilised world, was artificially raisedabove the level of the fens, and ran through them in a straight lineas far as the eye could reach, with a ditch on each side, of which thewater was rendered invisible by the aquatic vegetation that coveredthe surface. Into one of these ditches the sudden action of ashy horse, which took fright at a windmill, had precipitated thetravelling chariot of Mr Toobad, who had been reduced to the necessityof scrambling in dismal plight through the window. One of the wheelswas found to be broken; and Mr Toobad, leaving the postilion toget the chariot as well as he could to Claydyke for the purpose ofcleaning and repairing, had walked back to Nightmare Abbey, followedby his servant with the imperial, and repeating all the way hisfavourite quotation from the Revelations.
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