The Complete Novels of Fanny Burney (Illustrated). Frances Burney
the enraged chimney-sweeper exclaimed, “Come, come with me! won’t be imposed upon; an old fox — understand trap!”
He then again held out his hand, but Cecilia, pointing to the fiend, answered, “How can I come, sir?”
“Shew you the way,” cried he, “shovel him off.” And taking his shovel, he very roughly set about removing him.
The fiend then began a yell so horrid, that it disturbed the whole company; but the chimney-sweeper, only saying, “Aye, aye, blacky, growl away, blacky — makes no odds,” sturdily continued his work, and, as the fiend had no chance of resisting so coarse an antagonist without a serious struggle, he was presently compelled to change his ground.
“Warm work!” cried the victorious chimney-sweeper, taking off his wig, and wiping his head with the sleeves of his dress, “pure warm work this!”
Cecilia, once again freed from her persecutor, instantly quitted her place, almost equally desirous to escape the haughty Turk, who was peculiarly her aversion, and the facetious chimney-sweeper, whose vicinity, either on account of his dress or his conversation, was by no means desirable. She was not, however, displeased that the white domino and the schoolmaster still continued to attend her.
“Pray, look,” said the white domino, as they entered another apartment, “at that figure of Hope; is there any in the room half so expressive of despondency?”
“The reason, however,” answered the schoolmaster, “is obvious; that light and beautiful silver anchor upon which she reclines presents an occasion irresistible for an attitude of elegant dejection; and the assumed character is always given up where an opportunity offers to display any beauty, or manifest any perfection in the dear proper person!”
“But why,” said Cecilia, “should she assume the character of Hope? Could she not have been equally dejected and equally elegant as Niobe, or some tragedy queen?”
“But she does not assume the character,” answered the schoolmaster, “she does not even think of it: the dress is her object, and that alone fills up all her ideas. Enquire of almost any body in the room concerning the persons they seem to represent, and you will find their ignorance more gross than you can imagine; they have not once thought upon the subject; accident, or convenience, or caprice has alone directed their choice.”
A tall and elegant youth now approached them, whose laurels and harp announced Apollo. The white domino immediately enquired of him if the noise and turbulence of the company had any chance of being stilled into silence and rapture by the divine music of the inspired god?
“No,” answered he, pointing to the room in which was erected the new gallery, and whence, as he spoke, issued the sound of a hautboy, “there is a flute playing there already.”
“O for a Midas,” cried the white domino, “to return to this leather-eared god the disgrace he received from him!”
They now proceeded to the apartment which had been lately fitted up for refreshments, and which was so full of company that they entered it with difficulty. And here they were again joined by Minerva, who, taking Cecilia’s hand, said, “Lord, how glad I am you’ve got away from that frightful black mask! I can’t conceive who he is; nobody can find out; it’s monstrous odd, but he has not spoke a word all night, and he makes such a shocking noise when people touch him, that I assure you it’s enough to put one in a fright.”
“And pray,” cried the schoolmaster, disguising his voice, “how camest thou to take the helmet of Minerva for a fool’s cap?”
“Lord, I have not,” cried she, innocently, “why, the whole dress is Minerva’s; don’t you see?”
“My dear child,” answered he, “thou couldst as well with that little figure pass for a Goliath, as with that little wit for a Pallas.”
Their attention was now drawn from the goddess of wisdom to a mad Edgar, who so vehemently ran about the room calling out “Poor Tom’s a cold!” that, in a short time, he was obliged to take off his mask, from an effect, not very delicate, of the heat!
Soon after, a gentleman desiring some lemonade whose toga spoke the consular dignity, though his broken English betrayed a native of France, the schoolmaster followed him, and, with reverence the most profound, began to address him in Latin; but, turning quick towards him, he gaily said, “Monsieur, j’ai l’honneur de representer Ciceron, le grand Ciceron, pere de sa patrie! mais quoique j’ai cet honneur-la, je ne suit pas pedant! — mon dieu, Monsieur, je ne parle que le Francois dans la bonne compagnie!” And, politely bowing, he went on.
Just then Cecilia, while looking about the room for Mrs Harrel, found herself suddenly pinched by the cheek, and hastily turning round, perceived again her friend the chimney-sweeper, who, laughing, cried, “Only me! don’t be frightened. Have something to tell you; — had no luck! — got never a husband yet! can’t find one! looked all over, too; sharp as a needle. Not one to be had! all catched up!”
“I am glad to hear it, sir,” said Cecilia, somewhat vexed by observing the white domino attentively listening; “and I hope, therefore, you will give yourself no farther trouble.”
“Pretty duck!” cried he, chucking her under the chin; “never mind, don’t be cast down; get one at last. Leave it to me. Nothing under a plum; won’t take up with less. Good-by, ducky, good-by! must go home now — begin to be nodding.”
And then, repeating his kind caresses, he walked away.
“Do you think, then,” said the white domino, “more highly of Mr Briggs for discernment and taste than of any body?”
“I hope not!” answered she, “for low indeed should I then think of the rest of the world!”
“The commission with which he is charged,” returned the domino, “has then misled me; I imagined discernment and taste might be necessary ingredients for making such a choice as your approbation would sanctify: but perhaps his skill in guarding against any fraud or deduction in the stipulation he mentioned, may be all that is requisite for the execution of his trust.”
“I understand very well,” said Cecilia, a little hurt, “the severity of your meaning; and if Mr Briggs had any commission but of his own suggestion, it would fill me with shame and confusion; but as that is not the case, those at least are sensations which it cannot give me.”
“My meaning,” cried the domino, with some earnestness, “should I express it seriously, would but prove to you the respect and admiration with which you have inspired me, and if indeed, as Mr Briggs hinted, such a prize is to be purchased by riches, I know not, from what I have seen of its merit, any sum I should think adequate to its value.”
“You are determined, I see,” said Cecilia, smiling, “to make most liberal amends for your asperity.”
A loud clack of tongues now interrupted their discourse; and the domino, at the desire of Cecilia, for whom he had procured a seat, went forward to enquire what was the matter. But scarce had he given up his place a moment, before, to her great mortification, it was occupied by the fiend.
Again, but with the same determined silence he had hitherto preserved, he made signs of obedience and homage, and her perplexity to conjecture who he could be, or what were his motives for this persecution, became the more urgent as they seemed the less likely to be satisfied. But the fiend, who was no other than Mr Monckton, had every instant less and less encouragement to make himself known: his plan had in nothing succeeded, and his provocation at its failure had caused him the bitterest disappointment; he had intended, in the character of a tormentor, not only to pursue and hover around her himself, but he had also hoped, in the same character, to have kept at a distance all other admirers: but the violence with which he had over-acted his part, by raising her disgust and the indignation of the company, rendered his views wholly abortive while the consciousness of an extravagance for which, if discovered, he could assign no reason not liable to excite suspicions of his secret motives, reduced him to guarding a painful and most irksome silence the whole evening. And Cecilia, to