CHAPTER XLI.
Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time Theharmony of their tongues hath unto bondage Drawn my too diligent eyes.But you, oh! you, So perfect and so peerless, are created Of everycreature's best.--Shakspeare.
Thou wilt easily conceive, my dear reader, who hast been in myconfidence throughout the whole of this history, and whom, though as yetthou hast cause to esteem me but lightly, I already love as my familiarand my friend--thou wilt easily conceive my surprise at meeting sounexpectedly with my old hero of the gambling house. I felt indeedperfectly stunned at the shock of so singular a change in hiscircumstances since I had last met him. My thoughts reverted immediatelyto that scene, and to the mysterious connection between Tyrrell andGlanville. How would the latter receive the intelligence of his enemy'sgood fortune? was his vengeance yet satisfied, or through what meanscould it now find vent?
A thousand thoughts similar to these occupied and distracted myattention till morning, when I summoned Bedos into the room to read meto sleep. He opened a play of Monsieur Delavigne's, and at the beginningof the second scene I was in the land of dreams.
I woke about two o'clock; dressed, sipped my chocolate, and was on thepoint of arranging my hat to the best advantage, when I received thefollowing note:
"My Dear Pelham,
"Me tibi commendo. I heard this morning, at your hotel, that you werehere; my heart was a house of joy at the intelligence. I called upon youtwo hours ago; but, like Antony, 'you revel long o' nights.' Ah, thatI could add with Shakspeare, that you were 'notwithstanding up.' I havejust come from Paris, that umbilicus terrae, and my adventures since Isaw you, for your private satisfaction, 'because I love you, I will letyou know;' but you must satisfy me with a meeting. Till you do, 'themighty gods defend you!'
"Vincent."
The hotel from which Vincent dated this epistle, was in the same streetas my own caravansera, and to this hotel I immediately set off. I foundmy friend sitting before a huge folio, which he in vain endeavoured topersuade me that he seriously intended to read. We greeted each otherwith the greatest cordiality.
"But how," said Vincent, after the first warmth of welcome had subsided,"how shall I congratulate you upon your new honours? I was not preparedto find you grown from a roue into a senator.
"'In gathering votes you were not slack, Now stand as tightly by yourtack, Ne'er show your lug an' fidge your back, An' hum an' haw; Butraise your arm, an' tell your crack Before them a'.'
"So saith Burns; advice which, being interpreted, meaneth, that you mustastonish the rats of St. Stephen's."
"Alas!" said I, "all one's clap-traps in that house must be baited."
"Nay, but a rat bites at any cheese, from Gloucester to Parmasan, andyou can easily scrape up a bit of some sort. Talking of the House,do you see, by the paper, that the civic senator, Alderman W--, is atCheltenham?"
"I was not aware of it. I suppose he's cramming speeches and turtle forthe next season."
"How wonderfully," said Vincent, "your city dignities unloose thetongue: directly a man has been a mayor, he thinks himself qualified fora Tully at least. Faith, Venables asked me one day, what was theLatin for spouting? and I told him, 'hippomanes, or a raging humour inmayors.'"
After I had paid, through the medium of my risible muscles, due homageto this witticism of Vincent's, he shut up his folio, called for hishat, and we sauntered down into the street. As we passed by one of thelibraries, a whole mob of the dandies of the last night were loungingabout the benches placed before the shop windows.
"Pray, Vincent," said I, "remark those worthies, and especially thattall meagre youth in the blue frock-coat, and the buff waistcoat; he isMr. Ritson, the De Rous (viz. the finished gentleman) of the place."
"I see him," answered Vincent: "he seems a most happy mixture of nativecoarseness and artificial decoration. He puts me in mind of the pictureof the great ox set in a gilt frame."
"Or a made dish in Bloomsbury-square, garnished with cut carrots, by wayof adornment," said I.
"Or a flannel petticoat, with a fine crape over it," added Vincent."Well, well, these imitators are, after all, not worse than theoriginals. When do you go up to town?"
"Not till my senatorial duties require me."
"Do you stay here till then?"
"As it pleases the gods. But, good Heavens! Vincent, what a beautifulgirl!"
Vincent turned. "O Dea certe," murmured he, and stopped.
The object of our exclamations was standing by a corner shop, apparentlywaiting for some one within. Her face, at the moment I first saw her,was turned full towards me. Never had I seen any countenance half solovely. She was apparently about twenty; her hair was of the richestchesnut, and a golden light played through its darkness, as if a sunbeamhad been caught in those luxuriant tresses, and was striving in vainto escape. Her eyes were of a light hazel, large, deep, and shaded intosoftness (to use a modern expression) by long and very dark lashes. Hercomplexion alone would have rendered her beautiful, it was so clear--sopure; the blood blushed beneath it, like roses under a clear stream; if,in order to justify my simile, roses would have the complacency to growin such a situation. Her nose was of that fine and accurate mould thatone so seldom sees, except in the Grecian statues, which unites theclearest and most decided outline with the most feminine delicacy andsoftness; and the short curved arch which descended from thence to hermouth, was so fine--so airily and exquisitely formed, that it seemed asif Love himself had modelled the bridge which led to his most beautifuland fragrant island. On the right side of the mouth was one dimple,which corresponded so exactly with every smile and movement of thoserosy lips, that you might have sworn the shadow of each passed there; itwas like the rapid changes of an April heaven reflected upon a valley.She was somewhat, but not much, taller that the ordinary height; and herfigure, which united all the first freshness and youth of the girl withthe more luxuriant graces of the woman, was rounded and finished sojustly, so minutely, that the eye could glance over the whole, withoutdiscovering the least harshness or unevenness, or atom, to be added orsubtracted. But over all these was a light, a glow, a pervading spirit,of which it is impossible to convey the faintest idea. You should haveseen her by the side of a shaded fountain on a summer's day. You shouldhave watched her amidst music and flowers, and she might have seemedto you like the fairy that presided over both. So much for poeticaldescription.
"What think you of her, Vincent?" said I.
"I say, with Theocritus, in his epithalamium of Helen--"
"Say no such thing," said I: "I will not have her presence profaned byany helps from your memory."
At that moment the girl turned round abruptly, and re-entered the shop,at the door of which she had been standing. It was a small perfumer'sshop. "Thank Heaven," said I, "that she does use perfumes. What scentscan she now be hesitating between?--the gentle bouquet du roi, thecooling esprit de Portugal, the mingled treasures des mellifleurs, theless distinct but agreeably adulterated miel, the sweet May-recallingesprit des violets, or the--"
"Omnis copia narium," said Vincent: "let us enter; I want some eau deCologne."
I desired no second invitation: we marched into the shop. My Armida wasleaning on the arm of an old lady. She blushed deeply when she sawus enter; and, as ill-luck would have it, the old lady concluded herpurchases the moment after, and they withdrew.
"'Who had thought this clime had held A deity so unparallel'd!'"
justly observed my companion.
I made no reply. All the remainder of that day I was absent andreserved; and Vincent, perceiving that I no longer laughed at his jokes,nor smiled at his quotations, told me I was sadly changed for the worse,and pretended an engagement, to rid himself of an auditor so obtuse.