And they all looked,
and, having looked, wagged their heads in assent--as the fat, white lords
at Christie's waggle fifty pounds more out for a copy of Rembrandt, a
brown levitical Dutchman, visible in the pitch-dark by some sleight of
sun Newton had not wit to discover.
Soaper dissented from the mass.
"But, my dear Snarl, if there are no shades, there are lights, loads of
lights."
"There are," replied Snarl; "only they are impossible, that is all. You
have, however," concluded he, with a manner slightly supercilious,
"succeeded in the mechanical parts; the hair and the dress are well, Mr.
Triplet; but your Woffington is not a woman, not nature."
They all nodded and waggled assent; but this sagacious motion was
arrested as by an earthquake.
The picture rang out, in the voice of a clarion, an answer that outlived
the speaker: "She's a woman! for she has taken four men in! She's nature!
for a fluent dunce doesn't know her when he sees her!"
Imagine the tableau! It was charming! Such opening of eyes and mouths!
Cibber fell by second nature into an attitude of the old comedy. And all
were rooted where they stood, with surprise and incipient mortification,
except Quin, who slapped his knee, and took the trick at its value.
Peg Woffington slipped out of the green baize, and, coming round from the
back of the late picture, stood in person before them; while they looked
alternately at her and at the hole in the canvas.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185