Evelina

by Frances Burney

  ‘Such a thing as me, Sir!’ said Mr Lovel, letting fall his knife and fork, and looking very important: ‘I really have not the honour to understand your expression.’

  ‘It’s all one for that,’ said the Captain; ‘you may have it explained whenever you like it.’

  ‘’Pon honour, Sir,’ returned Mr Lovel, ‘I must take the liberty to tell you, that I should be extremely offended, but that I suppose it to be some sea-phrase and therefore I’ll let it pass without further notice.’

  Lord Orville, then, to change the discourse, asked Miss Mirvan if she should spend the ensuing winter in London?

  ‘No, to be sure,’ said the Captain, ‘what should she for? she saw all that was to be seen before.’

  ‘Is London, then,’ said Mr Lovel, smiling at Lady Louisa, ‘only to be regarded as a sight?’

  ‘Why pray, Mr Wiseacre, how are you pleased for to regard it yourself? – Answer me to that?’

  ‘O Sir, my opinion I fancy you would hardly find intelligible. I don’t understand sea-phrases enough to define it to your comprehension. Does n’t your La’ship think the task would be rather difficult?’

  ‘O Lard, yes,’ cried Lady Louisa, ‘I declare I’d as soon teach my parrot to talk Welch.’

  ‘Ha! ha! ha! admirable! – ’Pon honour your La’ship’s quite in luck to-day; – but that, indeed, your La’ship is every day. Though to be sure, it is but candid to acknowledge, that the gentlemen of the ocean have a set of ideas, as well as a dialect, so opposite to ours, that it is by no means surprising they should regard London as a mere shew, that may be seen by being looked at. Ha! ha! ha!’

  ‘Ha! ha!’ echoed Lady Louisa: ‘Well, I declare you are the drollest creature!’

  ‘He! he! ’pon honour I can’t help laughing at the conceit of seeing London in a few weeks!’

  ‘And what a plague should hinder you?’ cried the Captain; ‘do you want to spend a day in every street?’

  Here again Lady Louisa and Mr Lovel interchanged smiles.

  ‘Why, I warrant you, if I had the shewing of it, I’d haul you from St James’s to Wapping the very first morning.’

  The smiles were now, with added contempt, repeated; which the Captain observing, looked very fiercely at Mr Lovel, and said, ‘Hark’ee, my spark, none of your grinning! – ’tis a lingo I don’t understand; and if you give me any more of it, I shall go near to lend you a box o’ the ear.’

  ‘I protest, Sir,’ said Mr Lovel, turning extremely pale, ‘I think it’s taking a very particular liberty with a person, to talk to one in such a style as this!’

  ‘It’s like you may,’ returned the Captain; ‘but give a good gulp and I warrant you’ll swallow it.’ Then, calling for a glass of ale, with a very provoking and significant nod, he drank to his easy digestion.

  Mr Lovel made no answer, but looked extremely sullen: and soon after, we left the gentlemen to themselves.

  I had then two letters delivered to me; one from Lady Howard and Mrs Mirvan, which contained the kindest congratulations; and the other from Madame Duval, – but not a word from you, – to my no small surprise and concern.

  Madame Duval seems greatly rejoiced at my late intelligence: a violent cold, she says, prevents her coming to Bristol. The Branghtons she tells me, are all well; Miss Polly is soon to be married to Mr Brown, but Mr Smith has changed his lodgings, ‘which,’ she adds, ‘has made the house extremely dull. However, that’s not the worst news; pardi, I wish it was! but I’ve been used like nobody, – for Monsieur Du Bois has had the baseness to go back to France without me.’ In conclusion, she assures me as you prognosticated she would, that I shall be sole heiress of all she is worth, when Lady Orville.

  At tea-time, we were joined by all the gentlemen but Captain Mirvan, who went to the hotel where he was to sleep, and made his daughter accompany him, to separate her trumpery, as he called it, from his cloaths.

  As soon as they were gone, Mr Lovel, who still appeared extremely sulky, said, ‘I protest, I never saw such a vulgar, abusive fellow in my life, as that Captain: ’pon honour, I believe he came here for no purpose in the world but to pick a quarrel; however, for my part, I vow I won’t humour him.’

  ‘I declare,’ cried Lady Lousia, ‘he put me in a monstrous fright, – I never heard any body talk so shocking in my life!’

  ‘I think,’ said Mrs Selwyn, with great solemnity, ‘he threatened to box your ears, Mr Lovel, – did not he?’

  ‘Really, Ma’am,’ said Mr Lovel, colouring, ‘if one was to mind every thing those low kind of people say, – one should never be at rest for one impertinence or other, – so I think the best way is to be above taking any notice of them.’

  ‘What,’ said Mrs Selwyn, with the same gravity, ‘and so receive the blow in silence!’

  During this discourse, I heard the Captain’s chaise stop at the door, and ran down stairs to meet Maria. She was alone, and told me that her father, who, she was sure, had some scheme in agitation against Mr Lovel, had sent her on before him. We continued in the parlour till his return, and were joined by Lord Orville, who begged me not to insist on a patience so unnatural, as submitting to be excluded our society. And let me, my dear Sir, with a grateful heart let me own, I never before passed half an hour in such perfect felicity.

  I believe we were all sorry when the Captain returned; yet his inward satisfaction, from however different a cause, did not seem inferior to what ours had been. He chucked Maria under the chin, rubbed his hands, and was scarce able to contain the fullness of his glee. We all attended him to the drawing-room, where, having composed his countenance, without any previous attention to Mrs Beaumont, he marched up to Mr Lovel, and abruptly said, ‘Pray have you e’er a brother in these here parts!’

  ‘Me, Sir? – no, thank Heaven, I’m free from all incumbrances of that sort.’

  ‘Well,’ cried the Captain, ‘I met a person just now, so like you, I could have sworn he had been your twin-brother.’

  ‘It would have been a most singular pleasure to me,’ said Mr Lovel, ‘if I also could have seen him; for, really, I have not the least notion what sort of a person I am, and I have a prodigious curiosity to know.’

  Just then, the Captain’s servant opening the door, said, ‘A little gentleman below desires to see one Mr Lovel.’

  ‘Beg him to walk up stairs,’ said Mrs Beaumont. ‘But pray what is the reason William is out of the way?’

  The man shut the door without any answer.

  ‘I can’t imagine who it is,’ said Mr Lovel; ‘I recollect no little gentleman of my acquaintance now at Bristol, – except, indeed, the Marquis of Charlton, – but I don’t much fancy it can be him. Let me see, who else is there so very little?’ –

  A confused noise among the servants now drew all eyes towards the door; the impatient Captain hastened to open it, and then, clapping his hands, called out, ‘’Fore George, ’tis the same person I took for your relation!’

  And then, to the utter astonishment of every body but himself, he hauled into the room a monkey! full dressed, and extravagantly à-la-mode!

  The dismay of the company was almost general. Poor Mr Lovel seemed thunderstruck with indignation and surprise; Lady Lousia began a scream, which for some time was incessant; Miss Mirvan and I jumped involuntarily upon the seats of our chairs: Mrs Beaumont herself followed our example; Lord Orville placed himself before me as a guard; and Mrs Selwyn, Lord Merton, and Mr Coverley, burst into a loud, immoderate, ungovernable fit of laughter, in which they were joined by the Captain, till, unable to support himself, he rolled on the floor.

  The first voice which made its way through this general noise, was that of Lady Louisa, which her fright and screaming rendered extremely shrill. ‘Take it away!’ cried she, ‘take the monster away, – I shall faint, I shall faint if you don’t!’

  Mr Lovel, irritated beyond endurance, angrily demanded of the Captain what he meant?

  ‘Mean?’ cried the Captain, as soon as he was able to speak, ‘why
only to shew you in your proper colours.’ Then rising, and pointing to the monkey, ‘Why now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I’ll be judged by you all! – Did you ever see any thing more like? Odds my life, if it was n’t for this here tail, you would n’t know one from t’other.’

  ‘Sir,’ cried Mr Lovel, stamping, ‘I shall take a time to make you feel my wrath.’

  ‘Come, now,’ continued the regardless Captain, ‘just for the fun’s sake, duff your coat and waistcoat, and swop with Monsieur Grinagain here, and I’ll warrant you’ll not know yourself which is which.’

  ‘Not know myself from a monkey? – I assure you, Sir, I’m not to be used in this manner, and I won’t bear it, – curse me if I will!’

  ‘Why hey-day,’ cried the Captain, ‘what, is Master in a passion? – well, don’t be angry, – come, he sha’n’t hurt you; – here, shake a paw with him, – why he’ll do you no harm, man! – come, kiss and friends!’ –

  ‘Who I?’ cried Mr Lovel, almost mad with vexation, ‘as I’m a living creature, I would not touch him for a thousand worlds!’

  ‘Send him a challenge,’ cried Mr Coverley, ‘and I’ll be your second.’

  ‘Ay, do,’ said the Captain, ‘and I’ll be second to my friend Monsieur Clapperclaw here. Come, to it at once! – tooth and nail!’

  ‘God forbid!’ cried Mr Lovel, retreating, ‘I would sooner trust my person with a mad bull!’

  ‘I don’t like the looks of him myself,’ said Lord Merton, ‘for he grins most horribly.’

  ‘Oh I’m frightened out of my senses!’ cried Lady Louisa, ‘take him away, or I shall die!’

  ‘Captain,’ said Lord Orville, ‘the ladies are alarmed, and I must beg you would send the monkey away.’

  ‘Why, where can be the mighty harm of one monkey more than another?’ answered the Captain; ‘howsomever, if it’s agreeable to the ladies, suppose we turn them out together?’

  ‘What do you mean by that, Sir?’ cried Mr Lovel, lifting up his cane.

  ‘What do you mean?’ cried the Captain, fiercely: ‘be so good as to down with your cane.’

  Poor Mr Lovel, too much intimidated to stand his ground, yet too much enraged to submit, turned hastily round, and, forgetful of consequences, vented his passion by giving a furious blow to the monkey.

  The creature darting forwards, sprung instantly upon him, and clinging round his neck, fastened his teeth to one of his ears.

  I was really sorry for the poor man, who, though an egregious fop, had committed no offence that merited such chastisement.

  It was impossible, now, to distinguish whose screams were loudest, those of Mr Lovel, or of the terrified Lady Louisa, who, I believe thought her own turn was approaching: but the unrelenting Captain roared with joy.

  Not so Lord Orville: ever humane, generous, and benevolent, he quitted his charge, who he saw was wholly out of danger, and seizing the monkey by the collar, made him loosen the ear, and then, with a sudden swing, flung him out of the room, and shut the door.

  Poor Mr Lovel, almost fainting with terror, sunk upon the floor, crying out, ‘Oh I shall die, I shall die! – Oh I’m bit to death!’

  ‘Captain Mirvan,’ said Mrs Beaumont, with no little indignation, ‘I must own I don’t perceive the wit of this action; and I am sorry to have such cruelty practised in my house.’

  ‘Why, Lord, Ma’am,’ said the Captain, when his rapture abated sufficiently for speech, ‘how could I tell they’d fall out so? – by Jingo, I brought him to be a messmate for t’other.’

  ‘Egad,’ said Mr Coverley, ‘I would not have been served so for a thousand pounds!’

  ‘Why then there’s the odds of it,’ said the Captain, ‘for you see he is served so for nothing. But come,’ (turning to Mr Lovel) ‘be of good heart, all may end well yet, and you and Monseer Longtail be as good friends as ever.’

  ‘I’m surprised, Mrs Beaumont,’ cried Mr Lovel, starting up, ‘that you can suffer a person under your roof to be treated so inhumanly.’

  ‘What argufies so many words?’ said the unfeeling Captain, ‘it is but a slit of the ear; it only looks as if you had been in the pillory.’

  ‘Very true,’ added Mrs Selwyn, ‘and who knows but it may acquire you the credit of being an anti-ministerial writer?’

  ‘I protest,’ cried Mr Lovel, looking ruefully at his dress, ‘my new riding-suit’s all over blood!’

  ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ cried the Captain; ‘see what comes of studying for an hour what you shall put on.’

  Mr Lovel then walked to the glass, and looking at the place, exclaimed, ‘Oh Heaven, what a monstrous wound! my ear will never be fit to be seen again!’

  ‘Why then,’ said the Captain, ‘you must hide it; – ’tis but wearing a wig.’

  ‘A wig!’ repeated the affrighted Mr Lovel, ‘I wear a wig? – no, not if you would give me a thousand pounds an hour!’

  ‘I declare,’ said Lady Louisa, ‘I never heard such a shocking proposal in my life!’

  Lord Orville then, seeing no prospect that the altercation would cease, proposed to the Captain to walk. He assented; and having given Mr Lovel a nod of exultation, accompanied his Lordship down stairs.

  ‘’Pon honour,’ said Mr Lovel, the moment the door was shut, ‘that fellow is the greatest brute in nature! he ought not to be admitted into a civilized society.’

  ‘Lovel,’ said Mr Coverley, affecting to whisper, ‘you must certainly pink him: you must not put up with such an affront.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Mr Lovel, ‘with any common person, I should not deliberate an instant; but, really, with a fellow who has done nothing but fight all his life, ’pon honour, Sir, I can’t think of it!’

  ‘Lovel,’ said Lord Merton, in the same voice, ‘you must call him to account.’

  ‘Every man,’ said he, pettishly, ‘is the best judge of his own affairs, and I don’t ask the honour of any person’s advice.’

  ‘Egad, Lovel,’ said Mr Coverley, ‘you’re in for it! – you can’t possibly be off!’

  ‘Sir,’ cried he, very impatiently, ‘upon any proper occasion, I should be as ready to shew my courage as any body; – but as to fighting for such a trifle as this, – I protest I should blush to think of it!’

  ‘A trifle!’ cried Mrs Selwyn; ‘good Heaven! and have you made this astonishing riot about a trifle?’

  ‘Ma’am,’ answered the poor wretch, in great confusion, ‘I did not know at first but that my cheek might have been bit: – but as ’tis no worse, why it does not a great deal signify. Mrs Beaumont, I have the honour to wish you good evening; I’m sure my carriage must be waiting.’ And then, very abruptly, he left the room.

  What a commotion has this mischief-loving Captain raised! Were I to remain here long, even the society of my dear Maria could scarce compensate for the disturbances which he excites.

  When he returned, and heard of the quiet exit of Mr Lovel, his triumph was intolerable. ‘I think, I think,’ cried he, ‘I have peppered him well! I’ll warrant he won’t give an hour to-morrow morning to settling what he shall put on; why his coat,’ turning to me, ‘would be a most excellent match for old Madame Furbelow’s best Lyons silk! ’Fore George, I’d desire no better sport, than to have that there old cat here, to go her snacks!’

  All the company then, Lord Orville, Miss Mirvan, and myself excepted, played at cards, and we – oh how much better did we pass our time!

  While we were engaged in a most delightful conversation, a servant brought me a letter, which he told me had, by some accident, been mislaid. Judge of my feelings, when I saw, my dearest Sir, your revered hand-writing! My emotions soon betrayed to Lord Orville whom the letter was from; the importance of the contents he well knew, and, assuring me I should not be seen by the card-players, he besought me to open it without delay.

  Open it, indeed I did, – but read it I could not; – the willing, yet aweful consent you have granted, – the tenderness of your expressions, – the certainty that no obstacle remained to my eternal union wi
th the loved owner of my heart, gave me sensations too various, and though joyful, too little placid for observation. Finding myself unable to proceed, and blinded by the tears of gratitude and delight, which started into my eyes, I gave over the attempt of reading, till I retired to my own room: and, having no voice to answer the enquiries of Lord Orville, I put the letter into his hands, and left it to speak both for me and itself.

  Lord Orville was himself affected by your kindness; he kissed the letter as he returned it, and, pressing my hand affectionately to his heart, ‘You are now,’ (said he, in a low voice) ‘all my own! Oh my Evelina, how will my soul find room for its happiness? – it seems already bursting!’ I could make no reply; indeed I hardly spoke another word the rest of the evening; so little talkative is the fullness of contentment.

  O my dearest Sir, the thankfulness of my heart I must pour forth at our meeting, when, at your feet, my happiness receives its confirmation from your blessing, and when my noble-minded, my beloved Lord Orville, presents to you the highly-honoured and thrice-happy Evelina.

  A few lines I will endeavour to write on Thursday, which shall be sent off express, to give you, should nothing intervene, yet more certain assurance of our meeting.

  Now then, therefore, for the first – and probably the last time I shall ever own the name, permit me to sign myself,

  Most dear Sir,

  Your gratefully affectionate,

  EVELINA BELMONT

  Lady Louisa, at her own particular desire, will be present at the ceremony, as well as Miss Mirvan and Mrs Selwyn: Mr Macartney will, the same morning, be united to my foster-sister, and my father himself will give us both away.

  Letter Twenty-Two

  Mr Villars to Evelina

  Every wish of my soul is now fulfilled – for the felicity of my Evelina is equal to her worthiness!

  Yes, my child, thy happiness is engraved, in golden characters, upon the tablets of my heart! and their impression is indelible; for, should the rude and deep-searching hand of Misfortune attempt to pluck them from their repository, the fleeting fabric of life would give way, and in tearing from my vitals the nourishment by which they are supported, she would but grasp at a shadow insensible to her touch.