CHAPTER ELEVEN.
A SHAKESPEARE READING.
Esther was preparing for the Cambridge Local Examination at Christmas,and making a special study of _The Merchant of Venice_, as the playchosen for the year.
Fraulein explained the notes, and expatiated on the Venice of the pastand the manners and customs of its inhabitants; but it was Mr Asplinwho had the brilliant idea of holding a Shakespeare reading which shouldmake the play live in the imagination of the young people, as no amountof study could do. The suggestion was made one day at dinner, and wasreceived with acclamation by everyone present.
"Oh, how lovely, father! It will help me ever so much!" said Esther."And Peggy must be Portia."
"I'd like to be that funny little man Launcelot--what do you call it?--only I know I couldn't do it," said Mellicent humbly. "I'll be theservants and people who come in and give messages. But, of course,Peggy must be Portia."
"Peggy shall be Portia, and I'll be the Jew, and snarl at her across thecourt," said Rob, with an assurance which was not at all appreciated byhis companions.
"I've rather a fancy to try Shylock myself," Max declared. "Oswaldwould make a capital Bassanio, and you could manage Antonio all right ifyou tried, for he has not so much to do. Let me see: Peggy--Portia;Esther--Nerissa; Mellicent--Jessica (she's so like a Jewess, you see!);you and Oswald--Bassanio and Antonio; Shylock--my noble self. Fatherand mother to help out with the smaller characters. There you are! Acapital cast, and everyone satisfied. I'm game to be Shylock, but Ican't do the sentimental business. You two fellows will have to takethem, and we'll divide the smaller fry among us."
"Indeed we will do nothing of the kind. I'm not going to take Bassanio;I couldn't do it, and I won't try. I'll have a shot at Shylock if youlike, but I can't do anything else. The cast is all wrong, except sofar as Peggy is concerned. Of course she is Portia."
"Proposed, seconded, and carried unanimously that Peggy is Portia!" saidMr Asplin, smiling across the table at that young lady, who tried tolook modest and unconcerned, but was plainly aglow with satisfaction."For Shylock, as the character seems so much in demand, we had betterdraw lots. I will write the names on slips of paper, and you must allagree to take what comes, and make the best of it. I will fill in thegaps, and I am sure mother will help all she can--"
"Lemonade in the intervals, and coffee for those who prefer it, withsome of my very best company cake," said Mrs Asplin briskly. "It willbe quite an excitement. I should rather like to be Shylock myself, anddefy Peggy and her decree; but I'll give it up to the boys, and makemyself generally useful. Why couldn't we begin to-night?"
"Oh, Mrs Asplin, no! It will take me days to get up my part! And thecostumes--consider the costumes!" cried Peggy anxiously. And herhostess raised her hands in surprise.
"The costumes! Are you going to dress up? I never thought of that!"
"Surely that is unnecessary, Peggy! You can read the play withoutchanging your clothes!" echoed the vicar; but, from the chorus ofdisclaimer which greeted his words, it appeared that the young peoplecould do nothing of the sort.
Max wanted to know how a fellow could possibly "talk Shylock" in a whitetie and an evening jacket. Oswald thought it equally ridiculous to poseas an Italian lover in English clothing; and Peggy turned up her eyesand said she could not really abandon herself to her part if her costumewere inappropriate. Even Esther, the sober-minded, sided with the rest,so the vicar laughed and gave way, only too pleased to sanction anythingwhich helped the object which he had at heart.
"Dress up by all means, if it pleases you. It will be interesting tosee the result. But, of course, I must be absolved from any experimentsof the kind."
"Oh, of course! And mother, too, if she likes, though I should love tosee her made-up as Shylock! You must not see or ask about our dressesuntil the night arrives. They must be a secret. You will lend us allyour fineries, mother--won't you?"
"Bless your heart, yes! But I haven't got any!" said Mrs Asplin, inher funny Irish way. "They were all worn out long, long ago." She gavea little sigh for the memory of the days when she had a wardrobe full ofpretty things and a dozen shimmery silk dresses hanging on the pegs, andthen flashed a loving smile at her husband, in case he might think thatshe regretted their loss. "If there is anything about the rooms thatwould do, you are welcome to use it," she added, glancing vaguely at thesideboard and dumb waiter, while the boys laughed loudly at the idea offinding any "properties" in the shabby old dining-room.
Peggy, however, returned thanks in the most gracious manner, and satwrapt in thought for the rest of the evening, gazing darkly around fromtime to time, and scribbling notes on sheets of note-paper.
Short of playing Shylock, which in the end fell to Maxwell's share, itseemed as if all the responsibility of the performance fell on Peggy'sshoulders. She was stage manager, selecting appropriate pieces offurniture from the different rooms and piling them together behind thescreen in the study, whence they could be produced at a moment's notice,to give some idea of the different scenes. She coached Esther andMellicent in their parts, designed and superintended the making of thecostumes, and gave the finishing touches to each actor in turn when thenight of the "Dramatic Reading" arrived.
"Taking one consideration with another," as Max remarked, "the costumeswere really masterpieces of art."
To attire two young gentlemen as Italian cavaliers, and a third as abearded Jew, with no materials at hand beyond the ordinary furnishingsof a house, is a task which calls for no small amount of ingenuity, yetthis is exactly what Peggy had done.
Antonio and Bassanio looked really uncommonly fine specimens, withcycling knickerbockers, opera cloaks slung over their shoulders, andflannel shirts pouched loosely over silk sashes, and ornamented withfrills of lace at wrists and neck. Darkened eyebrows gave them ahandsome and distinguished air, and old straw hats and feathers satjauntily on their tow wigs.
The vicar sat in the arm-chair by the fire, Shakespeare in hand, waitingto fill in the odd parts with his wife's help, and simultaneous cries ofastonishment and admiration greeted the appearance of the two actors atthe beginning of the first scene.
"It's wonderful! Did I ever see such children? What in the world havethey got on their heads? Milly's old leghorn, I declare, and my pinkfeathers. My old pink feathers! Deary me! I'd forgotten all aboutthem. I've never worn them since the year that--"
"`In sooth, I know not why I am so sad,'" quoth the wearer of thefeathers, scowling darkly at the frivolous prattler, who straightway hidher head behind her book, and read Salanio's first speech in a tone ofmeek apology.
There was a great deal of confusion about the first scene, for fourpeople had to read the parts of six, and one of the number was so muchoccupied with gazing at the costumes of the actors that she invariablylost her place, and had to be called to order by significant coughs andglances. By this time it generally happened that the vicar had made uphis mind to come to the rescue, and both husband and wife would begin toread at the same moment, to their own amusement, and to the disgust ofthe two lads, who felt uncomfortable in their borrowed plumes, andkeenly sensitive about their precious dignity. Antonio mumbled his lastspeech in undignified haste, and followed Bassanio out of the room,prepared to echo his statement that this sort of thing was "tomfoolery,"and that he wasn't going to make an idiot of himself any longer toplease Peggy Saville, or any other girl in the world. But the wordsdied on his lips, for outside, in the hall, stood Peggy herself, orrather Portia, and such a Portia as made him fairly blink withamazement! Amidst the bustle of the last few days Portia's own costumehad been kept a secret, so that the details came as a surprise to theother members of the party. Nerissa stood by her side, clad in aflowing costume, the component parts of which included a dressing-gown,an antimacassar, and a flowered chintz curtain; but, despite the natureof the materials, the colouring was charming, and frizzled hair, flushedcheeks, and sparkling eyes, transformed the sober Esther into a verypers
onable attendant on the lady of Belmont. There was nothing of thedressing-gown character about Portia's own attire, however. Itsmagnificence took away the breath of the beholders. The little witchhad combed her hair to the top of her head, and arranged it in a coil,which gave height and dignity to her figure. A string of pearls wastwisted in and out among the dark tresses; her white silk frock wasmysteriously lengthened and ornamented by two large diamond-shapedpieces of satin encrusted with gold, one placed at the bottom of theskirt, and the other hanging loosely from the square-cut neck of thebodice. Long yellow silk sleeves fell over the bare arms and reachedthe ground; and from the shoulders hung a train of golden-hued plush,lined with a paler shade of yellow. Bassanio and Gratiano stood aghast,and Portia simpered at them sweetly in the intervals between dispensingstage directions to the boot boy, who was clad in his best suit for theoccasion, and sent to and fro to change the arrangement of the scenery.He wheeled the sofa into the centre of the room, piled it up with bluecushions, and retired to make way for the two ladies, who were alreadyedging in at the door.
A gasp of astonishment greeted their appearance, but when Peggy draggedher heavy train across the room, threw herself against the cushions inan attitude calculated to show off all the splendour of her attire, whenshe leant her pearl-decked head upon her hand, turned her eyes to theceiling, and said, with a sigh as natural and easy as if they were herown words which she was using, and not those of the immortal Shakespearehimself, "`By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this greatworld!'"--then the vicar broke into a loud "Hear! hear!" of delight, andMrs Asplin seized the poker and banged uproarious applause upon thefender. For the first few minutes amazement and admiration held herdumb; but as the girls moved to and fro, and the details of theircostumes became more apparent, she began to utter spasmodic cries ofrecognition, somewhat trying to the composure of the actors.
Portia's description of her lovers was interrupted by a cry of, "Mytable centres! The Turkish squares I bought at the Exhibition, and havenever used! Wherever did they find them?" while a little later cameanother cry, as the identity of the plush train made itself known, "My_portiere_ from the drawing-room door! My beautiful _portiere_--withthe nice new lining! Oh dear, dear! it's dragging about all over thedirty carpet! Don't sit on it, dear! For pity's sake, don't git onit!"
"Mother!" cried Esther, in a deep tone of remonstrance; but Portia wasunconscious of interruption. The other actors held their books in theirhands, and, for the most part, read their speeches; but Peggy trustedentirely to memory, and sighed and yawned over the denunciation of herlovers, with evident satisfaction to herself as well as to thebeholders. Nerissa read her part "conscientiously," as the newspaperswould say, punctuating her sentences in exemplary fashion, and layingthe emphasis upon the right words as directed by the stage manageress;but, such is the contrariness of things, that, with all her efforts, theeffect was stiff and stifled, while Peggy drawled through her sentences,or gabbled them over at break-neck speed, used no emphasis at all, orhalf a dozen running, at her own sweet will, and was so truly Portiathat the vicar wondered dreamily if he should have to interview the Dukeof Morocco in his study, and Mrs Asplin sighed unconsciously, and toldherself that the child was too young to be troubled with lovers. Shemust not dream of accepting any one of them for years to come!
At the end of the scene, however, anxiety about her beloved _portiere_overpowered everything else in the mind of the vicar's wife, and sherushed after the actors to call out eager instructions. "Hang it up atonce--there's good children. If you put it down on a chair, Peggy willsit on it as sure as fate! And oh! my table centres! Put them back inthe drawer if you love me! Wrap them up in the tissue paper as youfound them!"
"Mother, you are a terrible person! Go back, there's a dear, and dokeep quiet!" cried a muffled voice from behind the dining-room door, asShylock dodged back to escape observation; and Mrs Asplin retreatedhastily, aghast at the sight of a hairy monster, in whom she failed torecognise a trace of her beloved son and heir. Shylock's make-up was,in truth, the triumph of the evening. The handsome lad had beentransformed into a bent, misshapen old man, and anything more ugly,frowsy, and generally unattractive than he now appeared it would beimpossible to imagine. A cushion gave a hump to his shoulders, and overthis he wore an aged purple dressing-gown, which had once belonged tothe vicar. The dressing-gown was an obvious refuge; but who but PeggySaville would have thought of the trimming, which was the making of theshaggy, unkempt look so much desired? Peggy had sat with her handsclasped on her lap, and her head on one side, staring at the gown whenit was held out for her approval two days before, then had suddenlyrisen, and rushed two steps at a time upstairs to the topmost landing, awide, scantily furnished space which served for a playground on wetafternoons. An oilcloth covered the floor, a table stood in a corner,and before each of the six doors was an aged wool rug, maroon as tocolouring, with piebald patches here and there where the skin of thelining showed through the scanty tufts. Peggy gave a whoop of triumph,tucked one after the other beneath her arm, and went flying down again,dropping a mat here and there, tripping over it, and nearly falling fromtop to bottom of the stairs. Hairbreadth escapes were, however, so mucha part of her daily existence that she went on her way unperturbed, andcarried her bundle into the study, where the girls sniffed derisively,and the boys begged to know what she intended to do with all thatrubbish.
"`They that have no invention should be hanged,'" quoted Peggy,unperturbed. "Give me a packet of pins, and I'll soon show you what Iam going to do. Dear, dear, dear, I don't know what you would dowithout me! You are singularly bereft of imagination."
She tossed her pigtail over her shoulder, armed herself with the largestpins she could find, and set to work to fasten the mats down the frontof the gown, and round the hem at the bottom, so that the wool hung inshaggy ends over the feet. The skins were thick, the heads of the pinspressed painfully into her fingers, but she groaned and worked awayuntil the border was arranged for stitching, and could be tried on toshow the effect.
"Perfectly splendid!" was the verdict of the beholders. And so thematter of Shylock's gown was settled; but his beard still remained to beprovided, and was by no means an easy problem to solve.
"Tow!" suggested Mellicent; but the idea was hooted by all the others.The idea of Shylock as a blonde was too ridiculous to be tolerated.False hair was not to be bought in a small village, and Maxwell'syouthful face boasted as yet only the faintest shadow of a moustache.
The question was left over for consideration, and an inspiration camethe same afternoon, when Robert hurled one of the roller-like cushionsof the sofa at Oswald's head, and Oswald, in catching it, tore loose aportion of the covering.
"Now you've done it!" he cried. "The room will be covered withfeathers, and then you will say it was my fault! We shall have tofasten the stupid thing up somehow or other!" He peered through theopening as he spoke, and his face changed. "It's not feathers--it'shorsehair! Here's a find! What about that wig for Shylock?"
Esther was dubious.
"It would take a great deal of horsehair to make a wig. It would spoilthe cushion if the horsehair were taken away; it would spoil the sofa ifthe cushion were small; it would spoil the room if the sofa--"
Peggy interrupted with a shriek of laughter. "Oh, oh, oh! It's likethe `House that Jack built'! How long do you intend to go on like that?Nonsense, my dear! It would be perfectly easy to take out what wewant, and put it back afterwards. I'll promise to do it myself and sewit up tightly, though, if you desire my opinion, I think the cushionwould be improved by letting in a little air. You might as well leanyour head on a brick. Max, you are a made man! You shall have abeautiful, crinkly black wig, and a beard to match! We will sew them toyour turban, and fasten them with black elastic. It will never show,and I'll finish off the joins after you are dressed. You'll see?"
"You can do as you like! I'm in your hands!" said Max easily; and whenthe night of the readi
ng arrived, and he was attired in wig and gown,Peggy seated him in a chair and tucked a towel under his chin with anair of business. She had a number of small accessories on a table nearat hand, and Max was first instructed to stick pieces of black plasterover alternate teeth, so that he might appear to possess only a fewisolated fangs, and then made to lie back in his chair, while hisdresser stood over him with a glue-brush in one hand and a bunch ofloose horsehair in the other.
"Shut your eyes!" she cried loudly. And before he could say "JackRobinson" a tuft of the wiry stuff covered his eyebrow. "Keep your facestill!" And, to his horror, the gum was daubed from the borders of thebeard, halfway up to his eyes, and little prickly ends of hair were heldin Peggy's palm and pressed against his cheeks until they were firmlyattached.
This, indeed, was more than he had bargained for! He jerked back hishead, and began a loud-voiced protest, only to be interrupted by shrieksof excitement.
"Oh, oh, oh! It's beautiful--beautiful! What a fright! What adelicious fright! No one would know you! You look an old hairy monsterwho would gobble up half a dozen Christians. Do look at yourself!"
Peggy felt the pride of an artist in the result of her efforts, and Maxwas hardly less delighted than herself as he stood before the glass,gazing at his hairy cheeks and leering horribly, to admire his toothlessgums. If the result were so hideous as to astonish even those who hadwatched the process of his make-up, what wonder that the effect uponShylock's fond parents was of a stupefying nature!
Horror kept Mrs Asplin silent until the middle of the scene betweenShylock and Antonio when the bond is signed, and then her agitationcould no longer be controlled, and Shylock's little speeches wereinterrupted by entreaties to take that horrid stuff off his teeth, touse plenty of hot water in washing his face, and to be sure to anoint itplentifully with cold cream after doing so.
An ordinary lad would have lost his temper at these interruptions; butMax adored his mother, and could never take anything she did in a wrongspirit. Anger being therefore impossible, the only other resource wasto laugh, which, in Peggy's opinion, was even worse than the former. AShylock who chuckled between his speeches, and gave a good-humoured "Ha!ha!" just before uttering his bitterest invective, was a ridiculousparody of the character, with whom it would be impossible to act. Itwould be hard indeed if all her carefully rehearsed speeches lost theireffect, and the famous trial scene were made into a farce through theseuntimely interruptions!
The second part of the play went more smoothly, however, as the audiencesettled down to a more attentive hearing, and the actors became lessself-conscious and embarrassed. If four out of the six were sticks, whonever for a moment approached the verge of the natural, Portia andShylock did nobly, and, when the reading was over and the young peoplegathered round the fire in the drawing-room, it was unanimously agreedthat they had acquired a more intimate knowledge of the play by this oneevening's representation than by weeks of ordinary study.
"I feel so much more intimate with it!" said Esther. "It seems to havemade it alive, instead of just something I have read in a book. It wasa delightful thought, father, and I am grateful to you for proposing it.I wish I could do all my lessons in the same way."
"I've not enjoyed myself so much for ages. You just did beautifully,all of you, and the dresses were a sight to behold. As for Peggy, she'sa witch, and could make up costumes on a desert island, if she were putto it! But I don't know what is going to happen to my poor, dear boy'sface. Oswald, what is he doing? Isn't he coming to have some lemonadeand cake?" asked Mrs Asplin anxiously. And Oswald chuckled in aheartless fashion.
"Pride must abide. He would be Shylock, whether we liked it or not, solet him take the consequences. He is fighting it out with cold cream inthe bathroom, and some of the horsehair sticks like fun. I'll go up andtell him we have eaten all the cake. He was getting savage when I camedown, and it will sweeten his temper!"