memories and portraits-第23部分
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was forth again; a little late for dinner; the lamps springing into
light in the blue winter's even; and THE MILLER; or THE ROVER; or
some kindred drama clutched against his side … on what gay feet he
ran; and how he laughed aloud in exultation! I can hear that
laughter still。 Out of all the years of my life; I can recall but
one home…coming to compare with these; and that was on the night
when I brought back with me the ARABIAN ENTERTAINMENTS in the fat;
old; double…columned volume with the prints。 I was just well into
the story of the Hunchback; I remember; when my clergyman…
grandfather (a man we counted pretty stiff) came in behind me。 I
grew blind with terror。 But instead of ordering the book away; he
said he envied me。 Ah; well he might!
The purchase and the first half…hour at home; that was the summit。
Thenceforth the interest declined by little and little。 The fable;
as set forth in the play…book; proved to be not worthy of the
scenes and characters: what fable would not? Such passages as:
〃Scene 6。 The Hermitage。 Night set scene。 Place back of scene 1;
No。 2; at back of stage and hermitage; Fig。 2; out of set piece; R。
H。 in a slanting direction〃 … such passages; I say; though very
practical; are hardly to be called good reading。 Indeed; as
literature; these dramas did not much appeal to me。 I forget the
very outline of the plots。 Of THE BLIND BOY; beyond the fact that
he was a most injured prince and once; I think; abducted; I know
nothing。 And THE OLD OAK CHEST; what was it all about? that
proscript (1st dress); that prodigious number of banditti; that old
woman with the broom; and the magnificent kitchen in the third act
(was it in the third?) … they are all fallen in a deliquium; swim
faintly in my brain; and mix and vanish。
I cannot deny that joy attended the illumination; nor can I quite
forget that child who; wilfully foregoing pleasure; stoops to
〃twopence coloured。〃 With crimson lake (hark to the sound of it …
crimson lake! … the horns of elf…land are not richer on the ear) …
with crimson lake and Prussian blue a certain purple is to be
compounded which; for cloaks especially; Titian could not equal。
The latter colour with gamboge; a hated name although an exquisite
pigment; supplied a green of such a savoury greenness that to…day
my heart regrets it。 Nor can I recall without a tender weakness
the very aspect of the water where I dipped my brush。 Yes; there
was pleasure in the painting。 But when all was painted; it is
needless to deny it; all was spoiled。 You might; indeed; set up a
scene or two to look at; but to cut the figures out was simply
sacrilege; nor could any child twice court the tedium; the worry;
and the long…drawn disenchantment of an actual performance。 Two
days after the purchase the honey had been sucked。 Parents used to
complain; they thought I wearied of my play。 It was not so: no
more than a person can be said to have wearied of his dinner when
he leaves the bones and dishes; I had got the marrow of it and said
grace。
Then was the time to turn to the back of the play…book and to study
that enticing double file of names; where poetry; for the true
child of Skelt; reigned happy and glorious like her Majesty the
Queen。 Much as I have travelled in these realms of gold; I have
yet seen; upon that map or abstract; names of El Dorados that still
haunt the ear of memory; and are still but names。 THE FLOATING
BEACON … why was that denied me? or THE WRECK ASHORE? SIXTEEN…
STRING JACK whom I did not even guess to be a highwayman; troubled
me awake and haunted my slumbers; and there is one sequence of
three from that enchanted calender that I still at times recall;
like a loved verse of poetry: LODOISKA; SILVER PALACE; ECHO OF
WESTMINSTER BRIDGE。 Names; bare names; are surely more to children
than we poor; grown…up; obliterated fools remember。
The name of Skelt itself has always seemed a part and parcel of the
charm of his productions。 It may be different with the rose; but
the attraction of this paper drama sensibly declined when Webb had
crept into the rubric: a poor cuckoo; flaunting in Skelt's nest。
And now we have reached Pollock; sounding deeper gulfs。 Indeed;
this name of Skelt appears so stagey and piratic; that I will adopt
it boldly to design these qualities。 Skeltery; then; is a quality
of much art。 It is even to be found; with reverence be it said;
among the works of nature。 The stagey is its generic name; but it
is an old; insular; home…bred staginess; not French; domestically
British; not of to…day; but smacking of O。 Smith; Fitzball; and the
great age of melodrama: a peculiar fragrance haunting it; uttering
its unimportant message in a tone of voice that has the charm of
fresh antiquity。 I will not insist upon the art of Skelt's
purveyors。 These wonderful characters that once so thrilled our
soul with their bold attitude; array of deadly engines and
incomparable costume; to…day look somewhat pallidly; the extreme
hard favour of the heroine strikes me; I had almost said with pain;
the villain's scowl no longer thrills me like a trumpet; and the
scenes themselves; those once unparalleled landscapes; seem the
efforts of a prentice hand。 So much of fault we find; but on the
other side the impartial critic rejoices to remark the presence of
a great unity of gusto; of those direct clap…trap appeals; which a
man is dead and buriable when he fails to answer; of the footlight
glamour; the ready…made; bare…faced; transpontine picturesque; a
thing not one with cold reality; but how much dearer to the mind!
The scenery of Skeltdom … or; shall we say; the kingdom of
Transpontus? … had a prevailing character。 Whether it set forth
Poland as in THE BLIND BOY; or Bohemia with THE MILLER AND HIS MEN;
or Italy with THE OLD OAK CHEST; still it was Transpontus。 A
botanist could tell it by the plants。 The hollyhock was all
pervasive; running wild in deserts; the dock was common; and the
bending reed; and overshadowing these were poplar; palm; potato
tree; and QUERCUS SKELTICA … brave growths。 The caves were all
embowelled in the Surreyside formation; the soil was all betrodden
by the light pump of T。 P。 Cooke。 Skelt; to be sure; had yet
another; an oriental string: he held the gorgeous east in fee; and
in the new quarter of Hyeres; say; in the garden of the Hotel des
Iles d'Or; you may behold these blessed visions realised。 But on
these I will not dwell; they were an outwork; it was in the
accidental scenery that Skelt was all himself。 It had a strong
flavour of England; it was a sort of indigestion of England and
drop…scenes; and I am bound to say was charming。 How the roads
wander; how the castle sits upon the hill; how the sun eradiates
from behind the cloud; and how the congregated clouds themselves
up…roll; as stiff as bolsters! Here is the cottage interior; the
usual first flat; with the cloak upon the nail; the rosaries of
onions; the gun and powder…horn and corner…cupboard; here is the
inn (this drama must be nautical; I foresee Captain Luff and Bold
Bob Bowsprit) with the red curtain; pipes; spittoons; and eight…day
clock; and there again is that impressive dungeon with the chains;
which was so dull to colour。 England; the hedgerow elms; the thin
brick houses; windmills; glimpses of the navigable Thames …
England; when at last I came to visit it; was only Skelt made
evident: to cross the border was; for the Scotsman; to come home to
Skelt; there was the inn…sign and there the horse…trough; all
foreshadowed in the faithful Skelt。 If; at the ripe age of
fourteen years; I bought a certain cudgel; got a friend to load it;
and thenceforward walked the tame ways of the earth my own ideal;
radiating pure romance … still I was but a puppet in the hand of
Skelt; the original of that regretted bludgeon; and surely the
antitype of all the bludgeon kind; greatly improved from
Cruikshank; had adorned the hand of Jonathan Wild; pl。 I。 〃This is
mastering me;〃 as Whitman cries; upon some lesser provocation。
What am I? what are life; art; letters; the world; but what my
Skelt has made them? He stamped himself upon my immaturity。 The
world was plain before I knew him; a poor penny world; but soon it
was all coloured with romance。 If I go to the theatre to see a
good old melodrama; 'tis but Skelt a little faded。 If I visit a
bold scene in nature; Skelt would have been bolder; there had been
certainly a castle on that mountain; and the hollow tree … that set
piece … I seem to miss it in the foreground。 Indeed; out of this
cut…and…dry; dull; swaggering; obtrusive; and infantile art; I seem
to have learned the very spirit of my life's enjoyment; met there
the shadows of the characters I was to read about and love in a
late future; got the romance of DER FREISCHUTZ long ere I was to
hear of Weber or the mighty Formes; acquired a gallery of scenes
and characters with which; in the silent theatre of the brain; I
might enact all novels and romances; and took from these rude cuts
an enduring and transforming pleasure。 Reader … and yourself?
A word of moral: it appears that B。 Pollock; late J。 Redington; No。
73 Hoxton Street; not only publishes twenty…three of these old
stage favourites; but owns the necessary plates and displays a
modest readiness to issue other thirty…three。 If you love art;
folly; or the bright eyes of children; speed to Pollock's; or to
Clarke's of Garrick Street。 In Pollock's list of publicanda I
perceive a pair of my ancient aspirations: WRECK ASHORE and
SIXTEEN…STRING JACK; and I cherish the belief that when these shall
see once more the light of day; B。 Pollock will remember this
apologist。 But; indeed; I have a dream at times that is not all a
dre