being the Don Alonzo; and Mrs. Roland Calidore (who never misses an opportunity of acting in a piece in which she can let down her hair) was the Duchess.
You know how well he loves you, and you wonder To see Alonzo suffer, Cunegunda?-- Ask if the chamois suffer when they feel Plunged in their panting sides the hunter’s steel? Or when the soaring heron or eagle proud, Pierced by my shaft, comes tumbling from the cloud, Ask if the royal birds no anguish know, The victims of Alonzo’s twanging bow? Then ask him if he suffers--him who dies, Pierced by the poisoned glance that glitters from your eyes! [_He staggers from the effect of the poison._
Alonzo loves--Alonzo loves! and whom? His grandmother! O hide me gracious tomb! [_Her Grace faints away._
Such acting as Tom Bulbul’s I never saw. Tom lisps atrociously, and uttered the passage, “You athk me if I thuffer,” in the most absurd way. Miss Clapperclaw says he acted pretty well, and that I only joke about him because I am envious, and wanted to act a part myself.--I envious indeed!
But of all the assemblies, feastings, junkettings, déjeunes, soirées, conversaziones, dinner-parties, in Our Street, I know of none pleasanter than the banquets at Tom Fairfax’s; one of which this enormous provision-consumer gives seven times a-week. He lives in one of the little houses of the old Waddilove Street quarter, built long before Pocklington Square and Pocklington Gardens and the Pocklington family itself had made their appearance in this world.
Tom, though he has a small income, and lives in a small house, yet sits down one of a party of twelve to dinner every day of his life; these twelve consisting of Mrs. Fairfax, the nine Misses Fairfax, and Master Thomas Fairfax--the son and heir to twopence-halfpenny a-year.
It is awkward just now to go and beg pot-luck from such a family as this; because, though a guest is always welcome, we are thirteen at table--an unlucky number, it is said. This evil is only temporary, and will be remedied presently, when the family will be thirteen _without_ the occasional guest, to judge from all appearances.
Early in the morning Mrs. Fairfax rises, and cuts bread and butter from six o’clock till eight; during which time the nursery operations upon the nine little graces are going on. We only see a half dozen of them at this present moment, and in the present authentic picture, the remainder dwindling off upon little chairs by their mamma.