II

Charming Bignetta! charming Bignetta!

What a wild little witch is charming Bignetta!

When she smiles, I'm all madness; When she frowns, I'm all sadness; But she always is smiling, that charming Bignetta!

III.

Charming Bignetta! charming Bignetta!

What a wicked young rogue is charming Bignetta!

She laughs at my shyness, And flirts with his Highness; Yet still she is charming, that charming Bignetta!

IV.

Charming Bignetta! charming Bignetta!

What a dear little girl is charming Bignetta!

'Think me only a sister,'

Said she trembling: I kissed her.

What a charming young sister is charming Bignetta!

To choicer music chimed his gay guitar 'In Este's Halls,' yet still his song served its purpose, for it raised a smile.

'I wrote that for Madame Sapiepha, at the Congress of Verona,' said Count Frill. 'It has been thought amusing.'

'Madame Sapiepha!' exclaimed the Bird of Paradise. 'What! that pretty little woman, who has such pretty caps?'

'The same! Ah! what caps! what taste!'

'You like caps, then?' asked the Bird of Paradise, with a sparkling eye.

'Oh! if there be anything more than another that I know most, it is the cap. Here,' said he, rather oddly unb.u.t.toning his waistcoat, 'you see what lace I have got.'

'Ah me! what lace!' exclaimed the Bird, in rapture. 'Duke, look at his lace. Come here, sit next to me. Let me look at that lace.' She examined it with great attention, then turned up her beautiful eyes with a fascinating smile. '_Ah! c'est jolie, n'est-ce pas?_ But you like caps.

I tell you what, you shall see my caps. Spiridion, go, _mon cher_, and tell Ma'amselle to bring my caps, all my caps, one of each set.'

In due time entered the Swiss, with the caps, all the caps, one of each set. As she handed them in turn to her mistress, the Bird chirped a panegyric upon each.

'That is pretty, is it not, and this also? but this is my favourite.

What do you think of this border? _c'est belle cette garniture? et ce jabot, c'est tres-seduisant, n'est-ce pas? Mais voici_, the cap of Princess Lichtenstein. _C'est superb, c'est mon favori_. But I also love very much this of the d.u.c.h.ess de Berri. She gave me the pattern herself.

And, after, all, this _cornette a pet.i.te sante_ of Lady Blaze is a dear little thing; then, again, this _coiffe a dentelle_ of Lady Macaroni is quite a pet.'

'Pa.s.s them down,' said Lord Squib; 'we want to look at them.'

Accordingly they were pa.s.sed down. Lord Squib put one on.

'Do I look superb, sentimental, or only pretty?' asked his Lordship. The example was contagious, and most of the caps were appropriated. No one laughed more than their mistress, who, not having the slightest idea of the value of money, would have given them all away on the spot; not from any good-natured feeling, but from the remembrance that tomorrow she might amuse half an hour in buying others.

Whilst some were stealing, and she remonstrating, the Duke clapped his hands like a caliph. The curtain at the end of the apartment was immediately withdrawn, and the ball-room stood revealed.

It was the same size as the banqueting-hall. Its walls exhibited a long perspective of golden pilasters, the frequent piers of which were of looking-gla.s.s, save where, occasionally, a picture had been, as it were, inlaid in its rich frame. Here was the t.i.tian Venus of the Tribune, deliciously copied by a French artist: there, the Roman Fornarina, with her delicate grace, beamed like the personification of Raf-faelle's genius. Here, Zuleikha, living in the light and shade of that magician Guercino, in vain summoned the pa.s.sions of the blooming Hebrew: and there, Cleopatra, preparing for her last immortal hour, proved by what we saw that Guido had been a lover.

The ceiling of this apartment was richly painted, and richly gilt: from it were suspended three l.u.s.tres by golden cords, which threw a softened light upon the floor of polished and curiously inlaid woods. At the end of the apartment was an orchestra.

Round the room waltzed the elegant revellers. Softly and slowly, led by their host, they glided along like spirits of air; but each time that the Duke pa.s.sed the musicians, the music became livelier, and the motion more brisk, till at length you might have mistaken them for a college of spinning dervishes. One by one, an exhausted couple retreated from the lists. Some threw themselves on a sofa, some monopolised an easy chair; but in twenty minutes the whirl had ceased. At length Peac.o.c.k Piggott gave a groan, which denoted returning energy, and raised a stretching leg in air, bringing up, though most unwittingly, upon his foot, one of the Bird's sublime and beautiful caps.

'Halloa! Piggott, armed _cap-au-pied_, I see,' said Lord Squib. This joke was a signal for general resuscitation.

The Alhambra formed a quadrangle: all the chambers were on the bas.e.m.e.nt story. In the middle of the court of the quadrangle was a beautiful fountain; and the court was formed by a conservatory, which was built along each side of the interior square, and served, like a cloister or covered way, for a communication between the different parts of the building. To this conservatory they now repaired. It was broad, full of rare and delicious plants and flowers, and brilliantly illuminated.

Busts and statues were intermingled with the fairy grove; and a rich, warm hue, by a skilful arrangement of coloured lights, was thrown over many a nymph and fair divinity, many a blooming hero and beardless G.o.d.

Here they lounged in different parties, talking on such subjects as idlers ever fall upon; now and then plucking a flower, now and then listening to the fountain, now and then lingering over the distant music, and now and then strolling through a small apartment which opened to their walks, and which bore the t.i.tle of the Temple of Gnidus. Here, Canova's Venus breathed an atmosphere of perfume and of light; that wonderful statue, whose full-charged eye is not very cla.s.sical, to be sure; but then, how true!

While they were thus whiling away their time, Lord Squib proposed a visit to the theatre, which he had ordered to be lit up. To the theatre they repaired. They rambled over every part of the house, amused themselves with a visit to the gallery, and then collected behind the scenes. They were excessively amused with the properties; and Lord Squib proposed they should dress themselves. In a few minutes they were all in costume. A crowd of queens and chambermaids, Jews and chimney-sweeps, lawyers and Charleys, Spanish Dons, and Irish officers, rushed upon the stage. The little Spaniard was Almaviva, and fell into magnificent att.i.tudes, with her sword and plume. Lord Squib was the old woman of Brentford, and very funny. Sir Lucius Grafton, Harlequin; and Darrell, Grimaldi. The Prince, and the Count without knowing it, figured as watchmen. Squib whispered Annesley, that Sir Lucius O'Trigger might appear in character, but was prudent enough to suppress the joke.

The band was summoned, and they danced quadrilles with infinite spirit, and finished the night, at the suggestion of Lord Squib, by breakfasting on the stage. By the time this meal was despatched the purple light of morn had broken into the building, and the ladies proposed an immediate departure.

BOOK IV.

CHAPTER I.

_Pen Bronnock Palace_

THE arrival of the two distinguished foreigners reanimated the dying season. All vied in testifying their consideration, and the Duke of St.

James exceeded all. He took them to see the alterations at Hauteville House, which no one had yet witnessed; and he asked their opinion of his furniture, which no one had yet decided on. Two fetes in the same week established, as well as maintained, his character as the Archduke of fashion. Remembering, however, the agreeable month which he had spent in the kingdom of John the Twenty-fourth, he was reminded, with annoyance, that his confusion at Hauteville prevented him from receiving his friends _en grand seigneur_ in his hereditary castle. Metropolitan magnificence, which, if the parvenu could not equal, he at least could imitate, seemed a poor return for the feudal splendour and impartial festivity of an Hungarian magnate. While he was brooding over these reminiscences, it suddenly occurred to him that he had never made a progress into his western territories. Pen Bronnock Palace was the boast of Cornwall, though its lord had never paid it a visit. The Duke of St.

James sent for Sir Carte Blanche.

Besides entertaining the foreign n.o.bles, the young Duke could no longer keep off the constantly-recurring idea that something must be done to entertain himself. He shuddered to think where and what he should have been been, had not these gentlemen so providentially arrived. As for again repeating the farce of last year, he felt that it would no longer raise a smile. Yorkshire he shunned. Doncaster made him tremble. A week with the Duke of Burlington at Marringworth; a fortnight with the Fitz-pompeys at Malthorpe; a month with the Graftons at Cleve; and so on: he shuddered at the very idea. Who can see a pantomime more than once? Who could survive a pantomime the twentieth time? All the shifting scenes, and flitting splendour; all the motley crowds of sparkling characters; all the quick changes, and full variety, are, once, enchantment. But when the splendour is discovered to be monotony; the change, order, and the caprice a system; when the characters play ever the same part, and the variety never varies; how dull, how weary, how infinitely flat, is such a world to that man who requires from its converse, not occasional relaxation, but constant excitement!

Pen Bronnock was a new object. At this moment in his life, novelty was indeed a treasure. If he could cater for a month, no expense should be grudged; as for the future, he thrust it from his mind. By taking up his residence, too, at Pen Bronnock, he escaped from all invitations; and so, in a word, the worthy Knight received orders to make all preparations at the palace for the reception of a large party in the course of three weeks.

Sir Carte, as usual, did wonders. There was, fortunately for his employer, no time to build or paint, but some dingy rooms were hung with scarlet cloth; cart-loads of new furniture were sent down; the theatre was re-burnished; the stables put in order; and, what was of infinitely more importance in the estimation of all Englishmen, the neglected pile was 'well aired.'

CHAPTER II.

_A Dandy From Vienna_

WE ARE in the country, and such a country, that even in Italy we think of thee, native Hesperia! Here, myrtles grow, and fear no blasting north, or blighting east. Here, the south wind blows with that soft breath which brings the bloom to flesh. Here, the land breaks in gentle undulations; and here, blue waters kiss a verdant sh.o.r.e. Hail! to thy thousand bays, and deep-red earth, thy marble quarries, and thy silver veins! Hail! to thy far-extending landscape, whose sparkling villages and streaky fields no clime can match!