And an elderly Lady, a Dowager of obvious consideration and dignity, added in tones which brooked of no contradiction:
"My opinion is that there never has been or ever will be a Player equal to Mr. Betterton in Purity of Diction and Elegance of Gesture. He hath indeed raised our English Drama to the level of High Art."
I could have bowed low before her and kissed her hand for this; aye! and have paid homage, too, to all these gaily-dressed b.u.t.terflies who, in truth, had more Intellectuality in them than I had given them credit for. Every word of Eulogy of my beloved Friend was a delight to my soul. I felt mine eyes glowing with enthusiasm and had grave difficulty in keeping them fixed upon my book.
I had never liked Mr. Harris personally, for I was wont to think his conceit quite overweening beside the unalterable modesty of Mr.
Betterton, who was so incomparably his Superior; and I was indeed pleased to see that both the Dowager Lady-who, I understood, was the Marchioness of Badlesmere-and the younger Ladies and Gentlemen felt mischievously inclined to torment him.
"What is your opinion, Mr. Harris?" my Lady Badlesmere was saying to the discomfited Actor. "It would be interesting to know one Player"s opinion of another."
She had a spy-gla.s.s, through which she regarded him quizzically, whilst a mocking smile played around her thin lips. This, no doubt, caused poor Mr. Harris to lose countenance, for as a rule he is very glib of tongue. But just now he mouthed and stammered, appeared unable to find his words.
"It cannot be denied, your Ladyship," he began sententiously enough, "that Mr. Betterton"s gestures are smooth and pleasant, though they perhaps lack the rhythmic grandeur ... the dignified sweep ... of ... of ... the..."
He was obviously floundering, and the old Lady broke in with a rasping laugh and a tone of somewhat acid sarcasm.
"Of the gestures of Mr. Harris, you mean, eh?"
"No, Madam," he retorted testily, and distinctly nettled. "I was about to say "of the gestures of our greatest Actors.""
"Surely the same thing, dear Mr. Harris," a young Lady rejoined with well-a.s.sumed demureness, and dropped him a pert little curtsey.
I might have been sorry for the Man-for of a truth these small pin-p.r.i.c.ks must have been very irritating to his Vanity, already sorely wounded by a younger Rival"s triumph-but for the fact that he then waxed malicious, angered no doubt by hearing a veritable Chorus of Eulogy proceeding from that other group of Ladies and Gentlemen of which Mr.
Betterton was the centre.
I do not know, as a matter of fact, who it was who first gave a spiteful turning to the bantering, mocking Conversation of awhile ago; but in my mind I attributed this malice to Lord Douglas Wychwoode, who came up with his clerical friend just about this time, in order to pay his respects to the Marchioness of Badlesmere, who, I believe, is a near Relative of his. Certain it is that very soon after his arrival upon the scene, I found that every one around him was talking about the abominable Episode, the very thought of which sent my blood into a Fever and my thoughts running a veritable riot of Revenge and of Hate. Of course, Mr. Harris was to the fore with pointed Allusions to the grave Insult done to an eminent Artist, and which, to my thinking, should have been condemned by every right-minded Man or Woman who had a spark of lofty feeling in his or her heart.
"Ah, yes!" one of the Ladies was saying; "I heard about it at the time ... a vastly diverting story...."
"Which went the round of the Court," added another.
"Mr. Betterton"s shoulders," a gay young Spark went on airily, "are said to be still very sore."
"And his usually equable Temper the sorer of the two."
Lord Douglas did not say much, but I felt his spiteful Influence running as an undercurrent through all that flippant talk.
"Faith!" concluded one of the young Gallants, "were I my Lord Stour, I would not care to have Mr. Betterton for an enemy."
"An Actor can hit with great accuracy and harshness from the Stage," Mr.
Harris went on pompously. "He speaks words which a vast Public hears and goes on to repeat _ad infinitum_. Thus a man"s-aye! or a Lady"s-reputation can be made or marred by an Epilogue spoken by a popular Player at the end of a Drama. We all remember the case of Sir William Liscard, after he had quarrelled with Mr. Kynaston."
Whereupon that old story was raked up, how Mr. Kynaston had revenged himself for an insult upon him by Sir William Liscard by making pointed Allusions from the Stage to the latter"s secret intrigue with some low-cla.s.s wench, and to the Punishment which was administered to him by the wench"s vulgar lover. The Allusions were unmistakable, because that punishment had taken the form of a slit nose, and old Sir William had appeared in Society one day with a piece of sticking plaster across the middle of his face.
Well, we all know what happened after that. Sir William, covered with Ridicule, had to leave London for awhile and bury himself in the depths of the Country, for, in Town he could not show his face in the streets but he was greeted with some vulgar lampoon or ribald song, hurled at him by pa.s.sing roisterers. It all ended in a Tragedy, for Lady Liscard got to hear of it, and there was talk of Divorce proceedings, which would have put Sir William wholly out of Court-His Majesty being entirely averse to the dissolution of any legal Marriage.
But all this hath naught to do with my story, and I only recount the matter to You to show You how, in an instant, the temper of all these great Ladies and Gentlemen can be swayed by the judicious handling of an evil-minded Person.
All these Ladies and young Rakes, who awhile ago were loud in their praises of a truly great Man, now found pleasure in throwing mud at him, ridiculing and mocking him shamefully, seeing that, had he been amongst them, he would soon have confounded them with his Wit and brought them back to Allegiance by his magic Personality.
Once again I heard a distinct Allusion to the Countess of Castlemaine"s avowed predilection for Lord Stour. It came from one of the Cavaliers, who said to Lord Douglas, with an affected little laugh:
"Perhaps my Lord Stour would do well to place himself unreservedly under the protection of Lady Castlemaine! "Tis said that she is more than willing to extend her Favours to him."
"Nay! Stour hath nothing to fear," Lord Douglas replied curtly. "He stands far above a mere Mountebank"s spiteful pin-p.r.i.c.ks."
Oh! had but G.o.d given me the power to strike such a Malapert dumb! I looked around me, marvelling if there was not one sane Person here who would stand up in the defence of a great and talented Artist against this jabbering of irresponsible Monkeys.
9
I must admit, however, that directly Mr. Betterton appeared upon the scene the tables were quickly turned once more on Mr. Harris, and even on Lord Douglas, for Mr. Betterton is past Master in the art of wordy Warfare, and, moreover, has this great Advantage, that he never loses control over his Temper. No malicious shaft aimed at him will ever ruffle his Equanimity, and whilst his Wit is most caustic, he invariably retains every semblance of perfect courtesy.
He now had the d.u.c.h.ess of York on his arm, and His Grace of Buckingham had not left his side. His Friends were unanimously chaffing him about that Epilogue which he had spoken last night, and which had so delighted the Countess of Castlemaine. My Lord Buckhurst and Sir William Davenant were quoting pieces out of it, whilst I could only feel sorry that so great a Man had lent himself to such unworthy Flattery.
""Divinity, radiant as the stars!"" Lord Buckhurst quoted with a laugh.
"By gad, you Rogue, you did not spare your words."
Mr. Betterton frowned almost imperceptibly, and I, his devoted Admirer, guessed that he was not a little ashamed of the fulsome Adulation which he had bestowed on so unworthy an Object, and I was left to marvel whether some hidden purpose as yet unknown to me had actuated so high-minded an Artist thus to debase the Art which he held so dear. It was evident, however, that the whole Company thought that great things would come from that apparently trivial incident.
"My Lady Castlemaine," said Sir William Davenant, "hath been wreathed in smiles ever since you spoke that Epilogue. She vows that there is nothing she would not do for You. And, as already You are such a favourite with His Majesty, why, Man! there is no end to your good fortune."
And I, who watched Mr. Betterton"s face again, thought to detect a strange, mysterious look in his eyes-something hidden and brooding was going on behind that n.o.ble brow, something that was altogether strange to the usually simple, unaffected and sunny temperament of the great Artist, and which I, his intimate Confidant and Friend, had not yet been able to fathom.
Whenever I looked at him these days, I was conscious as of a sultry Summer"s day, when nature is outwardly calm and every leaf on every tree is still. It is only to those who are initiated in the mysteries of the Skies that the distant oncoming Storm is revealed by a mere speck of cloud or a tiny haze upon the Bosom of the Firmament, which hath no meaning to the unseeing eye, but which foretells that the great forces of Nature are gathering up their strength for the striking of a prodigious blow.
CHAPTER VII
AN a.s.sEMBLY OF TRAITORS
1
I, in the meanwhile, had relegated the remembrance of Lord Douglas Wychwoode and his treasonable Undertakings to a distant cell of my mind.
I had not altogether forgotten them, but had merely ceased to think upon the Subject.
I was still nominally in the employ of Mr. Baggs, but he had engaged a new Clerk-a wretched, puny creature, whom Mistress Euphrosine already held in bondage-and I was to leave his Service definitely at the end of the month.
In the meanwhile, my chief task consisted in initiating the aforesaid wretched and puny Clerk into the intricacies of Mr. Theophilus Baggs"
business. The boy was slow-witted and slow to learn, and Mr. Baggs, who would have liked to prove to me mine own Worthlessness, was nevertheless driven into putting some of his more important work still in my charge.
Thus it came to pa.s.s that all his Correspondence with Lord Douglas Wychwoode went through my Hands, whereby I was made aware that the Traitors-for such in truth they were-were only waiting for a favourable opportunity to accomplish their d.a.m.nable Purpose.