Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 101: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

88 __ Es tt ha ee no diverting him from his ruthless purpose! So the ‘untoward circumstances’ were all left to the imagination.” “Perhaps it was best,” I said: and I had no doubt the audience must have thought so like- wise. “Well, Miss Trafford, if you say so, it must have been,” rejoined Mr. Jingleton meekly. “Then came a terrible scene—the Fairy Pestiferosa stretched out her wand, touched the Prince there- with, and bade him quit the form of a man and take that of a rat. The courtiers, the guards, the heralds, and the people crowded around in horror and consternation: the Prince went down the trap—and up it in his place came my little friend the legless dwarf, for whom the piece was written. There he was, dressedas a rat!—so that when the guards, heralds, courtiers, and people fell back at the moment when the malignant fairy had done her dreadful work, the audience beheld the rat in the place where the young Prince had pre- viously stood! Grand tableau—horror, consterna- tion, petrifaction— Princess senseless in the arms of her maid—good old King speechless and trans- fixed on his throne. End of the second scene.” “It must have been very effective, Mr. Jingle- ton,” I said. ‘ But now, if you will permit me to order you up some luncheon +4 “Not for the world, until I have finished this description!” he exclaimed, thus reminding me of the persevering tediousness of the Barber of Bagdad in the Arabian Nights Entertainments. “TI am sure you must be wearied, Mr. Jingle- ton,” I said. ‘‘Wearied ?”? he cried. ‘Not an atom! I could talk another hour without ceasing !” I almost groaned in despair; for I thought that he was fully capable of this terrible infliction. ‘‘The third scene,” he resumed, “opens with a dialogue between First and Second Citizen. First Citizen tells Second Citizen that it is now exactly seven years since the terrible event which deprived Princess Mimosetta of a handsome bridegroom and transformed Prince Melvodoriferous into a rat. Second Citizen clasps his hands in sympathizing sorrow, and speaks of the affliction of the-old King "% “What! is the old King still alive?” I asked. “Oh, yes!” exclaimed Mr. Jingleton. “It would not do to kill him before he had seen every- thing put right and happiness restored. Well, as I was saying, Second Citizen deplores the good old King’s sorrow and draws an affecting picture of how the Princess Mimosetta sits in her bower, the picture of despair—always silent—never smiling— refusing all sustenance * “ What ! for seven long years?” I exclaimed “Well, truly, it does seem rather odd,” observed Mr. Jingleton: “but I positively make it so in the play : Second Citizen says it with ail suitable gravity and distress—anc the audience never once failed to be affected by it throughout a hundred and fifty nights |” “Well, my dear sir,” I said, “ if so many audi- ences were satisfied, I have no right to complain. Pray proceed. The Princess had taken no suste- nance for seven long years ‘* Yes—that was where I left off,’ said Mr. Jin- gleton. ‘Inshort, First and Second Citizen drew a most deplorable picture of the condition of their | meditate upon this eee eee rer eae ne reece LL LN A seen ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. island ever since the catastrophe. But it appeared from this dialogue that though the wicked Fairy Pestiferosa had transmogrified Prince Melodo- riferous into a rat, she could not crush out of him, so to speak, those very exquisite qualities which were the source and origin of all the umbrage she had spitefully taken against him. The consequence was that the power of melody still clung to him ; and the fragrance with which his princely gar- ments had been perfumed, survived in his rat-skin. It is true that the qualities of harmony and odour were modified and influenced by the change of form, though they could not be annihilated thereby. Thus the enchanted Prince had become a Musical Musk Rat! Pray, Miss Trafford, might I ask whether you think this was an ingenious method of introducing the little dwarf ?” “ Nothing could be more ingenious,” I replied. “ You deserve infinite credit, Mr. Jingleton, for your tact and cleverness in this particular.” The wrinkled half-starved countenance of the poor author became animated with delight as I bestowed this praise upon him; and he was so elated and inspired by it that when I again sug- gested something relative to luncheon, he would not listen to it, but insisted on proceeding with the description of his piece. “ Well, Miss Trafford, presently First Citizen cries, ‘Hush! here comes the King !’—and Second Citizen answers, ‘ We’ll stand aside and watch the good old man!’ The King enters, with his crown upon his head, his sceptre in his hand, and in his gorgeous robes of purple, orange, red, and green, all covered with spangles i *‘ Just as he was seven years ago?” I observed. “ Precisely, Miss Trafford. His beard was as white as silver at first; so if could not be any whiter, you know r « And doubtless, as his granddaughter had taken no sustenance for seven long years, the King had not changed his garments during the same pe- riod P” I remarked. * Most likely not,” said Mr. Jingleton, taking quite seriously that which I meant in jest. ‘“ The King soliloquises; and from this soliloquy the audience learn that his majesty has had a dream during the past night. In this dream a good fairy appeared to him, and told him that if the musical rat can only be enticed to enter a trap, the spell will be broken and he will instantaneously recover his proper shape. So the King has come out to 9? “ Don’t you think that it would have been more natural,” I asked, “if the King instead of wasting time in soliloquising, had at once set to work to bait a trap and entice the rat into 1b?” “ Well, perhaps it would,” said Mr. Jingleton, slowly and thoughtfully: “but then such a course would have interfered with the arrangements and requirements of my plot.” “Ob, that is different!” I exclaimed. “Of course everything must be sacrificed to that! Pray proceed.” “TJ will, Miss Trafford. The King at the end of his soliloquy speaks in a broken voice relative to his granddaughter; and then he suddenly ex- claims, ‘Hush! she comes!’ ” “Why does he say hush,” I asked, “when no one is speaking but himself, and he can of course hold bis tongue in a moment if he chooses ?” 0)(0 (0) (E(0) = CS (E(O)