Boon Island - Kenneth Roberts [57]
"Yes, sir," Swede said, "that'll help, but I'd like to get him out of the theatre. When Penkethman finishes with Greenwich, he'll take his players back to London; and if Neal goes with themwell, Mr. Whitworth, he's too young to be around a theatre. I know what it means. He'll buy a periwig and become a foplearn to drawl and take snuff: strut and cock his cravat strings. Ten to one he'll go to the Groom Porter's and run into debt over the turn of a dirty deuce."
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"How do you feel about it, Neal?" my father asked. "Don't ask him," Swede said hastily. "He thinks these actors are angels right out of heaven. He can already walk like 'em and talk like 'em, and the only thing he doesn't yet do, thank God, is think like 'em. He thinks like a human being, and I don't want him spoiled."
"It's understandable," I told my father. "There's something about the theatre that's mighty exciting."
"It can be mighty destructive, too," my father said. "What are the plays all about? Whoring, drinking, gaming! What are the manners of the fine ladies you see represented? Those of the tavern and the brothel, without relation to life or art!"
He turned to Neal. "See here, my boy: Miles tells me you recited one of Mr. Cibber's epilogues. Will you do it for us now?"
Neal said quickly that he would, but that he'd like a costume. My father went into the house and I heard him calling to Mrs. Buddage to bring him a shawl and a soiled tablecloth. How Neal wrapped those two pieces of cloth so deftly about him, I couldn't see, but he turned in a moment from a young boy to a girl, wide-eyed, pleading, provocative, looking at us over his shoulder as he spoke, and smoothing the tablecloth over his narrow hips.
I can't remember Cibber's lines; but the verses told how, eventually, English actors would be forced to imitate Italians, and it's impossible to reproduce the strange quarter English, quarter Latin and half imitation Italian that followed the line, "I give you raptures while I squall despair." There was something overwhelmingly ludicrous about this meaningless twaddle, so earnestly delivered, and
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with such coy and fetching gestures. My father snorted and Captain Dean said, "Haw!" but Neal seemed not to hear them.
" 'If this won't do,' " he quoted, coquettishly touching his finger tips to his lips, " 'I'll try another touchhalf French, some English, and a spice of Dutch' " ... and immediately he broke into another utterly meaningless song that made no sense although it seemed constantly on the verge of doing so.
When it came to an end, all too soon, my father slapped his leg delightedly, Captain Dean's face was red from repressed laughter. Swede was the only one who didn't laugh.
"I think I see what you mean," my father said to Swede, as I helped Neal fold the shawl and the tablecloth. "I see what you mean. It isn't easy to divert a talent like that. It isn't even safe. If I were youif Neal were a few years olderI'd advise you not to try to do it, but as I say, I think I know exactly how you feel."
He seemed to think aloud. "It's London you're afraid of. Now suppose Neal had a profession to support him. We've had some good professional men in the theatre and they've done well. Take Sir John Vanbrugh. He was an architect. When Miles goes up to Oxford, I might be able to use Neal. He'd be a help to me writing briefswriting insurance. What would you say to that, Swede?"
"I'd be forever in your debt, Mr. Whitworth," Swede said.
"Yes," my father said. "Well, that's one way of looking at it, so if you've been uneasy in your mind, you'll probably feel better. All of us can keep an eye on Neal till
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it's time for him to go to work for me in the autumnand the work he's doing now is training of a sort: teaches him how to hold a tea-cuphow to seem to be at ease when he isn't."
When Swede looked dubious, my father seized his hand and shook it, tapped Neal lightly on the shoulder, and said, "See them to the door, Miles."
To Neal he added,