I came down again therefore to pantomime. In
consequence, however, of the good offices of the manager's lady, who
had taken a liking to me, I was promoted from the part of the satyr to
that of the lover; and with my face patched and painted, a huge cravat
of paper, a steeple-crowned hat, and dangling, long-skirted, sky-blue
coat, was metamorphosed into the lover of Columbine. My part did not
call for much of the tender and sentimental. I had merely to pursue the
fugitive fair one; to have a door now and then slammed in my face; to
run my head occasionally against a post; to tumble and roll about with
Pantaloon and the clown; and to endure the hearty thwacks of
Harlequin's wooden sword.
As ill luck would have it, my poetical temperament began to ferment
within me, and to work out new troubles. The inflammatory air of a
great metropolis added to the rural scenes in which the fairs were
held; such as Greenwich Park; Epping Forest; and the lovely valley of
the West End, had a powerful effect upon me. While in Greenwich Park I
was witness to the old holiday games of running down hill; and kissing
in the ring; and then the firmament of blooming faces and blue eyes
that would be turned towards me as I was playing antics on the stage;
all these set my young blood, and my poetical vein, in full flow. In
short, I played my character to the life, and became desperately
enamored of Columbine. She was a trim, well-made, tempting girl, with a
rougish, dimpling face, and fine chestnut hair clustering all about it.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182