by Fanny Burney
CHAPTER XXXIII
Discouraged and disgusted as Ellis returned from this rehearsal, the sadresult of her reflections, upon all that had passed, and upon hercomplicate difficulties, with her debtors and creditors, served but toconvince her of the necessity of perseverance in what she hadundertaken; and of patience in supporting whatever that undertakingmight require her to endure.
From the effects of a hard shower of rain, in which she had been caught,while returning from the first rehearsal, she was seized with ahoarseness, that forced her to decline her own vocal performance at thesecond. This was immediately spread about the room, as an excess ofimpertinence; and the words, 'What ridiculous affection!'--'Whatintolerable airs!'--'So she must have a cold? Bless us! how fine!'--wererepeated from mouth to mouth, with that contemptuous exultation, whichsprings from the narrow pleasure of envy, in fixing upon superior meritthe stigma of insolence, or caprice.
Ellis, who, unavoidably, heard these murmurs, was struck with freshalarm, at the hardship of those professions which cast their votariesupon the mercy of superficial judges; who, without investigation,discernment, or candour, make their decisions from common placeprejudice; or current, but unexamined opinions.
Having no means to obviate similar injustice for the future, but bychacing the subject of suspicion, the dread of public disapprobation, towhich she was now first awakened, made her devote her whole attention tothe cure of her little malady.
Hitherto, a desire to do well, that she might not displease ordisappoint her few supporters, had been all her aim; but sarcasms,uttered with so little consideration, in this small party, representedto her the disgrace to which her purposed attempt made her liable, incases of sickness, of nervous terrors, or of casual inability, from anaudience by which she could be regarded only as an artist, who, paid togive pleasure, was accountable for fulfilling that engagement.
She trembled at this view of her now dependent condition; and her healthwhich, hitherto, left to nature, and the genial vigour of youth, haddisdained all aid, and required no care, became the first and mostpainful object of her solicitude. She durst not venture to walk outexcept in the sun-shine; she forbore to refresh herself near an openwindow; and retreated from every unclosed door, lest humidity, or thesharpness of the wind, or a sudden storm, should again affect her voice;and she guarded her whole person from the changing elements, assedulously as if age, infirmity, or disease, had already made her healththe salve of prudential forethought.
These precautions, though they answered in divesting her of a casual andtransient complaint, were big with many and greater evils, whichthreatened to become habitual. The faint warmth of a constantly shut upapartment; the total deprivation of that spring which exercise gives tostrength, and fresh air to existence, soon operated a change in herwhole appearance. Her frame grew weaker; the roses faded from hercheeks; she was shaken by every sound, and menaced with becoming avictim to all the tremors, and all the languors of nervous disorders.
Alas! she cried, how little do we know either of the labours, or theprivations, of those whose business it is to administer pleasure to thepublic! We receive it so lightly, that we imagine it to be lightlygiven!
Alarmed, now, for her future and general health, she relinquished thisdangerous and enervating system; and, committing herself again to thechances of the weather, and the exertions of exercise, was soon, again,restored to the enjoyment of her excellent constitution.
Meanwhile, the reproaches of Mr Giles Arbe, for her seeming neglect ofher own creditors, who had applied for his interest, constrained her toavow to him the real and unfeeling neglect which was its cause.
Extremely angry at this intelligence, he declared that he should make ithis especial business, to urge those naughty ladies to a betterbehaviour.
Accordingly, at the next rehearsal,--for, as the relation of Miss Arbe,he was admitted to every meeting,--he took an opportunity, uponobserving two or three of the scholars of Ellis in a group, to bustle inamongst them; and, pointing to her, as she sat upon a form, in adistant corner, 'Do but look,' he said, 'at that pretty creature,ladies! Why don't you pay her what you owe her? She wants the money verymuch, I assure you.'
A forced little laugh, from the ladies whom this concerned, strove toturn the attack into a matter of pleasantry. Lady Kendover alone, and atthe earnest desire of her niece, took out her purse; but when Mr Giles,smiling and smirking, with a hand as open as his countenance, advancedto receive what she meant to offer, she drew back, and, saying that shecould not, just then, recollect the amount of the little sum, walked tothe other end of the room.
'Oh, I'll bring you word what it is directly, my lady!' cried Mr Giles;'so don't get out of the way. And you, too, my Lady Arramede; and you,Miss Sycamore; and you, Miss Brinville; if you'll all stand together,here, in a cluster, I'll bring every one of you the total of youraccounts from her own mouth. And I may as well call those two merryyoung souls, the Miss Crawleys, to come and pay, too. She has earned hermoney hardly enough, I'm sure, poor pretty lady!'
'O, very hardly, to be sure!' cried Lady Arramede; 'to play and sing arevast hardships!'
'O, quite insupportable!' said Miss Sycamore: 'I don't wonder shecomplains. Especially as she has so much else to do with her time.'
'Do you think it very agreeable, then, ladies,' cried Mr Giles, 'toteach all that thrim thrum?'
'Why what harm can it do her?' said Miss Brinville: 'I don't see how shecan well do any thing that can give her less trouble. She had only justto point out one note, or one finger, instead of another.'
'Why yes, that's all she does, sure enough,' said Miss Bydel, 'for Ihave seen her give her lessons.'
'What, then, ladies,' cried Mr Giles, surprised; 'do you count fornothing being obliged to go out when one had rather stay at home? and todress when one has nothing to put on? as well as to be at the call offolks who don't know how to behave? and to fag at teaching people whoare too dull to learn?'
Ellis, who was within hearing, alarmed to observe that, in these lasttwo phrases, he looked full at Miss Sycamore and Miss Brinville, uponwhose conduct towards herself she had confidentially entrusted him withher feelings, endeavoured to make him some sign to be upon his guard:though, as neither of those two ladies had the misfortune to possesssufficient modesty to be aware of their demerits, they might both haveremained as secure from offence as from consciousness, if her own quickfears had as completely escaped notice. But, when Mr Giles perceived heruneasiness, he called out, 'Don't be frightened, my pretty lady! don'tthink I'll betray my trust! No, no. I can assure you, ladies, you can'tbe in better hands, with respect to any of your faults or oversights,for she never names them but with the greatest allowances. For as totelling them to me, that's nothing; because I can't help being naturallyacquainted with them, from seeing you so often.'
'She's vastly good!'--'Amazingly kind!' was now, with affected contempt,repeated from one to another.
'Goodness, Mr Giles!' cried Miss Bydel, 'why what are you thinking of?Why you are calling all the ladies to account for not paying this youngmusic-mistress, just as if she were a butcher, or a baker; or someuseful tradesman.'
'Well, so she is, Ma'am! so she is, Mrs Bydel! For if she does not feedyour stomachs, she feeds your fancies; which are all no better thanstarved when you are left to yourselves.'
'Nay, as to that, Mr Giles,' said Miss Bydel, 'much as it's my interestthat the young woman should have her money, for getting me back my own,I can't pretend to say I think she should be put upon the same footingwith eating and drinking. We can all live well enough without music, andpainting, and those things, I hope; but I don't know how we are to livewithout bread and meat.'
'Nor she, neither, Mrs Bydel! and that's the very reason that she wantsto be paid.'
'But, I presume, Sir,' said Mr Scope, 'you do not hold it to be asessential to the morals of a state, to encourage luxuries, as to providefor necessaries? I don't speak in any disparagement to this young lady,for she seems to me a very pretty sort of p
erson. I put her, therefore,aside; and beg to discuss the matter at large. Or, rather, if I may takethe liberty, I will speak more closely to the point. Let me, therefore,Sir, ask, whether you opine, that the butcher, who gives us our richestnutriment, and the baker, to whom we owe the staff of life, as Solomonhimself calls the loaf, should barely be put upon a par with an artistof luxury, who can only turn a sonata, or figure a minuet, or daub apicture?'
'Why, Mr Scope, a person who pipes a tune, or dances a jig, or paints aface, may be called, if you will, an artist of luxury; but then 'tis ofyour luxury, not his.'
'Mine, Sir?'
'Yes, yours, Sir! And Mrs Maple's; and Mrs Bydel's; and MissBrinville's; and Miss Sycamore's; and Mrs and Miss every body's;--exceptonly his own.'
'Well, this,' said Miss Bydel, 'is curious enough! So because there aresuch a heap of squallers, and fidlers, and daubers, I am to have thefault of it?'
'This I could not expect indeed,' said Mrs Maple, 'that a gentleman soamazingly fond of charity, and the poor, and all that, as Mr Giles Arbe,should have so little principle, as to let our worthy farmers andtrades-people languish for want, in order to pamper a set of lazydancers, and players, and painters; who think of no one thing butidleness, and outward shew, and diversion.'
'No, Mrs Maple; I am not for neglecting the farmers and trades-people;quite the contrary; for I think you should neither eat your meat, nordrink your beer, nor sit upon your chairs, nor wear your clothes, tillyou have rewarded the industrious people who provide them. Till then, inmy mind, every body should bear to be hungry, and dry, and tired, andragged! For what right have we to be fed, and covered, and seated, atother folks' cost? What title to gormandize over the butcher's fatjoints, and the baker's quartern loaves, if they who furnish them areleft to gnaw bones, and live upon crumbs? We ought all of us to beashamed of being warmed, and dizened in silks and satins, if the poorweavers, who fabricate them, and all their wives and babies, areshivering in tatters; and to toss and tumble ourselves about, on couchesand arm-chairs, if the poor carpenters, and upholsterers, and joiners,who have had all the labour of constructing them, can't find a seat fortheir weary limbs!'
'What you advance, there, Sir,' said Mr Scope, 'I can't dispute; butstill, Sir, I presume, putting this young lady always out of the way;you will not controvert my position, that the morals of a state require,that a proper distinction should be kept up, between the instruments ofsubsistence, and those of amusement.'
'You are right enough, Mr Scope,' cried Miss Bydel; 'for if singing anddancing, and making images, are ever so pretty, one should not pay folkswho follow such light callings, as one pays people that are useful.'
'I hope not, truly!' said Mrs Maple.
Mr Scope, thus encouraged, went on to a formal dissertation, upon themorality of repressing luxury; which was so cordially applauded by MissBydel; and enforced by sneers so personal and pointed against Ellis, byMrs Maple, Miss Brinville, and Miss Sycamore, that Mr Giles, provoked,at length, to serious anger, got into the middle of the little auditory,and, with animated gesticulation, stopping all the attempts of the slowand prosing Mr Scope to proceed, exclaimed, 'Luxury? What is it you allof you mean by luxury? Is it your own going to hear singing and playing?and to see dancing and capering? and to loll at your ease, while apainter makes you look pretty, if you are ever so plain? If it be, dothose things no more, and there will soon be an end to them! but don'texcite people to such feats, and then starve them for their pains.Luxury? do you suppose, because such sights, and such sounds, and suchflattery, are luxuries to you, they are luxuries to those who producethem? Because you are in extacies to behold yourselves grow younger andmore blooming every moment, do you conclude that he who mixes yourcolours, and covers your defects, shares your transports? No; he is sickto death of you; and longing to set his pencil at liberty. And becauseyou, at idle hours, and from mere love of dissipation, lounge in yourbox at operas and concerts, to hear a tune, or to look at a jump, do youimagine he who sings, or who dances, must be a voluptuary? No! all hedoes is pain and toil to himself; learnt with labour, and exhibited withdifficulty. The better he performs, the harder he has worked. All theease, and all the luxury are yours, Mrs Maple, and yours, Miss Bydel,and yours, ladies all, that are the lookers on! for he does not pipe orskip at his own hours, but at yours; he does not adorn himself for hisown warmth, or convenience, but to please your tastes and fancies; hedoes not execute what is easiest, and what he like best, but what ishardest, and has most chance to force your applause. He sings, perhaps,when he may be ready to cry; he plays upon those harps and fiddles, whenhe is half dying with hunger; and he skips those gavots, and fandangos,when he would rather go to bed! And all this, to gain himself a hard andfatiguing maintenance, in amusing your dainty idleness, andinsufficiency to yourselves.'
This harangue, uttered with an energy which provocation alone couldrouse in the placid, though probing Mr Giles, soon broke up the party:Miss Sycamore, indeed, only hummed, rather louder than usual, afavourite passage of a favourite air; and the Miss Crawleys nearlylaughed themselves sick; but Mrs Maple, Miss Bydel, and Miss Brinville,were affronted; and Miss Arbe, who had vainly made various signs to hercousin to be silent, was ashamed, and retreated: without Miss Arbe,nothing could go on; and the rehearsal was adjourned.
The attempt of Mr Giles, however, produced no effect, save that ofoccasioning his own exclusion from all succeeding meetings.
