<h2><SPAN name="chap40"></SPAN>CHAPTER XL</h2>
<p class="letter">
My mistress is surprised at my learning—communicates her performances to
me—I impart some of mine to her—am mortified at her faint
praise—Narcissa approves of my conduct—I gain an involuntary
conquest over the cookwench and dairymaid—their mutual resentment and
insinuations—the jealousy of their lovers</p>
<p>During this season of love and tranquillity, my muse, which had lain dormant so
long, awoke, and produced several small performances on the subject of my
flame. But as it concerned me nearly to remain undiscovered in my character and
sentiments, I was under a necessity of mortifying my desire of praise, by
confining my works to my own perusal and applause. In the meantime I strove to
insinuate myself into the good opinion of both ladies; and succeeded so well,
by my diligence and dutiful behaviour, that in a little time I was at least a
favourite servant; and frequently enjoyed the satisfaction of hearing myself
mentioned in French and Italian, with some degree of warmth and surprise by the
dear object of all my wishes, as a person who had so much of the gentleman in
my appearance and discourse, that she could not for her soul treat me like a
common lacquey. My prudence and modesty were not long proof against these
bewitching compliments. One day, while I waited at dinner, the conversation
turned upon a knotty passage of Tasso’s Gierusalem, which, it seems, had
puzzled them both: after a great many unsatisfactory conjectures, my mistress,
taking the book out of her pocket, turned up the place in question, and read
the sentence over and over without success; at length, despairing of finding
the author’s meaning, she turned to me, saying, “Come hither,
Bruno; let us see what fortune will do for us: I will interpret to thee what
goes before, and what follows this obscure paragraph, the particular words of
which I will also explain, that thou mayst, by comparing one with another,
guess the sense of that which perplexes us.” I was too vain to let slip
this opportunity of displaying my talents; therefore, without hesitation, read
and explained the whole of that which had disconcerted them, to the utter
astonishment of both. Narcissa’s face and lovely neck were overspread
with blushes, from which I drew a favourable opinion, while her aunt, after
having stared at me a good while with a look of amazement, exclaimed, “In
the name of heaven who art thou?” I told her I had picked up a smattering
of Italian, during a voyage up the Straits. At this explanation she shook her
head, and observed that no smatterer could read as I had done. She then desired
to know if I understood French. To which question I answered in the
affirmative. She asked if I was acquainted with the Latin and Greek? I replied,
“A little.” “Oho!” continued she, “and with
philosophy and mathematics, I suppose?” I owned I knew something of each.
Then she repeated her stare and interrogation. I began to repent of my vanity,
and in order to repair the fault I committed, said, it was not to be wondered
at if I had a tolerable education, for learning was so cheap in my country,
that every peasant was a scholar; but, I hoped her Ladyship would think my
understanding no exception to my character. “No, no, God forbid.”
But during the rest of the time they sat at table, they behaved with remarkable
reserve.</p>
<p>This alteration gave me great uneasiness; and I passed the night without sleep,
in melancholy reflections on the vanity of young men, which prompts them to
commit so many foolish actions, contrary to their own sober judgment. Next day,
however, instead of profiting by this self-condemnation, I yielded still more
to the dictates of the principle I had endeavoured to chastise, and if fortune
had not befriended me more than prudence could expect, I should have been
treated with the contempt it deserved. After breakfast my lady, who was a true
author, bade me follow her into the study, where she expressed herself thus:
“Since you are so learned, you cannot be void of taste; therefore I am to
desire your opinion of a small performance in poetry, which I lately composed.
You must know that I have planned a tragedy, the subject of which shall be, the
murder of a prince before the altar, where he is busy at his devotions. After
the deed is perpetrated, the regicide will harangue the people with the bloody
dagger in his hand; and I have already composed a speech, which, I think, will
suit the character extremely. Here it is.” Then, taking up a scrap of
paper, she read, with violent emphasis and gesture, as follows:—</p>
<p class="poem">
“Thus have I sent the simple King to hell,<br/>
Without or coffin, shroud, or passing bell:<br/>
To me what are divine and human laws?<br/>
I court no sanction but my own applause!<br/>
Rapes, robberies, treasons, yield my soul delight,<br/>
And human carnage gratifies my sight:<br/>
I drag the parent by the hoary hair,<br/>
And toss the sprawling infant on the spear,<br/>
While the fond mother’s cries regale my ear.<br/>
I fight, I vanquish, murder friends and foes;<br/>
Nor dare the immortal gods my rage oppose.”</p>
<p>Though I did great violence to my understanding in praising this unnatural
rhapsody, I nevertheless extolled it as a production that of itself deserved
immortal fame; and besought her ladyship to bless the world with the fruits of
those uncommon talents Heaven had bestowed upon her. She smiled with a look of
self-complacency, and encouraged by the incense I had offered, communicated all
her poetical works which I applauded, one by one, with as little candour as I
had shown at first. Satiated with my flattery, which I hope my situation
justified, she could not in conscience refuse me an opportunity of shining in
my turn: and, therefore, after a compliment to my nice discernment and taste,
observed, that doubtless I must have produced something in that way myself,
which she desired to see. This was temptation I could by no means resist. I
owned that while I was at college I wrote some detached pieces, at the desire
of a friend who was in love; and at her request repeated the following verses,
which indeed my love for Narcissa had inspired:—</p>
<p class="poem">
On Celia,<br/>
<br/>
Playing on the harpsichord and singing.<br/>
<br/>
When Sappho struck the quivering wire,<br/>
The throbbing breast was all on fire:<br/>
And when she raised the vocal lay,<br/>
The captive soul was charm’d away.<br/>
<br/>
But had the nymph possessed with these<br/>
Thy softer, chaster, power to please;<br/>
Thy beauteous air of sprightly youth,<br/>
Thy native smiles of artless truth;<br/>
<br/>
The worm of grief had never preyed<br/>
On the forsaken love-sick maid:<br/>
Nor had she mourn’d a hapless flame,<br/>
Nor dash’d on rocks her tender frame.</p>
<p>My mistress paid me a cold compliment on the versification, which, she said,
was elegant enough, but, the subject beneath the pen of a true poet. I was
extremely nettled at her indifference, and looked at Narcissa, who by this time
had joined us, for her approbation; but she declined giving her opinion,
protesting she was no judge of these matters; so that I was forced to retire
very much balked in my expectation, which was generally a little too sanguine.
In the afternoon, however, the waiting-maid assured me that Narcissa had
expressed her approbation of my performance with great warmth, and desired her
to procure a copy of it as for herself, that she (Narcissa) might have an
opportunity to peruse it at pleasure. I was elated to an extravagant pitch at
this intelligence, and immediately transcribed a fair copy of my Ode, which was
carried to the dear charmer, together with another on the same subject, as
follows:—</p>
<p class="poem">
Thy fatal shaft unerring move;<br/>
I bow before thine altar, Love!<br/>
I feel thou soft resistless flame<br/>
Glide swift through all my vital frame!<br/>
<br/>
For while I gaze my bosom glows,<br/>
My blood in tides impetuous flows;<br/>
Hope, fear, and joy alternate roll,<br/>
And floods of transports ’whelm my soul!<br/>
<br/>
My faltering tongue attempts in vain<br/>
In soothing murmurs to complain;<br/>
My tongue some secret magic ties,<br/>
My murmurs sink in broken sighs.<br/>
<br/>
Condemn’d to nurse eternal care,<br/>
And ever drop the silent tear,<br/>
Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh,<br/>
Unfriended live, unpitied die!</p>
<p>Whether or not Narcissa discovered my passion, I could not learn from her
behaviour, which, though always benevolent to me was henceforth more reserved
and less cheerful. While my thoughts aspired to a sphere so far above me, I had
unwittingly made a conquest of the cookwench and dairymaid, who became so
jealous of each other that, if their sentiments had been refined by education,
it is probable one or other of them would have had recourse to poison or steel
to be avenged of her rival; but, as their minds were happily adapted to their
humble station, their mutual enmity was confined to scolding and fistcuffs, in
which exercise they were both well skilled. My good fortune did not long remain
a secret; for it was disclosed by the frequent broils of these heroines, who
kept no decorum in their encounters. The coachman and gardener, who paid their
devoirs to my admirers, each to his respective choice, alarmed at my success,
laid their heads together, in order to concert a plan of revenge; and the
former, having been educated at the academy at Tottenham Court, undertook to
challenge me to single combat. He accordingly, with many opprobrious
invectives, bade me defiance, and offered to box me for twenty guineas. I told
him that, although I believed myself a match for him even at that work I would
not descend so far below the dignity of a gentleman as to fight like a porter;
but if he had anything to say to me, I was his man at blunderbuss, musket,
pistol, sword, hatchet, spit, cleaver, fork, or needle; nay, I swore, that
should he give his tongue any more saucy liberties at my expense, I would crop
his ears without any ceremony. This rhodomontade, delivered with a stern
countenance and resolute tone, had the desired effect upon my antagonist, who,
with some confusion, sneaked off, and gave his friend an account of his
reception.</p>
<p>The story, taking air among the servants, procured for me the title of
Gentleman John, with which I was sometimes honoured, even by my mistress and
Narcissa, who had been informed of the whole affair by the chambermaid. In the
meantime, the rival queens expressed their passion by all the ways in their
power: the cook entertained me with choice bits, the dairymaid with strokings:
the first would often encourage me to declare myself, by complimenting me upon
my courage and learning, and observing, that if she had a husband like me, to
maintain order and keep accounts, she could make a great deal of money, by
setting up an eating-house in London for gentlemen’s servants on board
wages. The other courted my affection by showing her own importance, and
telling me that many a substantial farmer in the neighbourhood would be glad to
marry her, but she was resolved to please her eye, if she should plague her
heart. Then she would launch out into the praise of my proper person, and say,
she was sure I would make a good husband, for I was very good-natured. I began
to be uneasy at the importunities of these inamoratas, whom, at another time
perhaps, I might have pleased without the disagreeable sauce of matrimony, but,
at present, my whole soul was engrossed by Narcissa; and I could not bear the
thoughts of doing anything derogatory to the passion I entertained for her.</p>
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