Merely Players

Front matter

MEEELY PLAYEES PBDJTED BT SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUAEE LONDON MEBELY PLAYEES BV MES AYLMER "GOWING AUTHOR OF GODS OP GOLD' 'BALLADS AND POEMS FOB RECITATION1 BALLADS OF THE TOWER1 'SITA, AND OTHER POEMS FOR RECITATION' ETC Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ' Eccles x. 10 LONDON F. V. WHITE & CO. 14 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. A SHAKESPEARIAN BISHOP 1 H. A GOLDEN VOICE 9 III. A STAR WITHIN THE CLOSE 19 IV. BOTH WERE SO YOUNG AND ONE SO INNOCENT . 30 V. HIGH ART BEHIND THE SCENES .... 41 VI. A BORN ACTRESS ... .... 55 VII. A LAD OF THE VILLAGE 70 VUI. AN ODIOUS WOMAN WHEN SHE IS MARRIED . . 84 IX. LOED SOUTHERNWOOD'S EYES ARE OPENED . . 93 X. A PASTORAL PLAY . 101 XI. CONSCIENCE DOES MAKE COWARDS . , . 113 ■ XII. A LAWFUL ESPIAL 123 XILT.

VESTIGIA NULLA EETEOESUM 132 XTV. A WOMAN OF CONSEQUENCE ..... 142 XV. A RAID ON STAGELAND 154 XVI. CEAY FISHING 165 XVII. THEOUGH THE FIRE 175 XVIII. WHOSE EDGE IS SHAEPEE THAN THE SWORD . . 182 XIX. THAT LOED I'D WED ; — OE ANY OTHER LOED, — ONLY TO SHOW HIM I COULD WED ABOVE HIM ! . 186 XX. SACELFICE 199 XXI. THE PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS , Contents VI tage CHArTER IF A MAN WOULD GIVE ALL THE SUBSTANCE OF HIS HOUSE FOE LOVE, IT WOULD BE UTTERLY CONTEMNED 217 XXII. XXIII. THE MIGHT OF IGNOBANCE 225 XXIV. THE PANGS OF DESPISED LOVE 236 XXV. BREAKING BOUNDS 249 XXVI. DEATH AND NATURE DO CONTEND ABOUT THEM . 261 XXVII. THE ONE SHALL BE TAKEN, AND THE OTHEE LEFT 269 XXVIII. AS THE BIRDS PAIE 278 XXIX. THE BEIDEGEOOM AND THE BEIDE . . . 289

Epilogue

Chapter I

A SHAKESPEARIAN BISHOP It was high festival in the Cathedral town of Witan bourne. The late autumnal evening closed in upon an unwonted blaze of carriage lamps, as all the rank and pre tension of the country-side crowded itself through the democratic press that surged along the narrow streets like a sudden freshet, disturbing the ordinarily somewhat sluggard current of petty provincial city life. The common interest of a memorable occasion had drawn in great and small, gentle and simple ; for was it not the inauguration day of the wonderful new reredos, the glory of tbe last translated prelate, caught up like the mantle of Elijah, by the recently-enthroned Bishop Stillingfleet, as a thing of beauty, holiness and renown, to be a joy and pride to himself and his successors for ever? Out of the lofty minster windows the electric lights streamed in floods of rich colour through the storied panes, as the service of song rang sweet and clear, through the sacred precincts, about the Close, and in dim echoes far reaching into the town.

Some of the finest, most famous voices in the world had been B attracted to the ancient sanctuary, to swell the grand sound of worship and thanksgiving, and to assemble a congregation that filled every available cranny, nook and corner, with great possibilities of substantial support to the work of restoration, reduced, in former years, to reiterated and persistent appeals to the liberality of the faithful. Nor did the wise new Bishop confine his provision of pleasure and instruction altogether within the sacred walls he desired to renovate and adorn. He had most diplomatically enticed the popular actor-manager George Marsden, with his fair and famous wife, to come down and give a dramatic recital that same evening, when the Dean and Chapter made sure of filling the town assembly room, at extravagant prices, for the benefit of the Cathedral Fund.

From this function nobody of any social pretensions whatever could afford to stay away, whether or not approving of the lavish expendi ture undertaken in the cause of sacred art. All shades of belief and unbelief were met in bonds of taste and enjoyment: Anglican, Broad and Evangelical Churchmen and women ; a few of the Roman persuasion, and even a select section from among the Nonconformist bodies, bitterly opposed, in the main, to all Cathedral doings. Mrs. Marsden's golden speech was the one harmonious note which that jarring assembly could sit, all ears, to hear, with delight. Every scruple was put aside, for Shakespeare was by most admitted to be innocuous bar a few dissentients — so long as his immortal verse was interpreted by a blameless married pair, away from a theatre, and the perilous and unlawful adjuncts of foot lights, paint, and spangles.

So Mrs. Marsden, unre- A Shakespearian Bishop 3 proved, put on her yellow satin, creamy laces, diamonds, and an impalpable soupfon of rosy powder, to satisfy the eye, as well as the heart and intelligence, with the witcheries of her art and the magnetic charm of her personality. It was a curious mixture that ' sat under ' the plat form which did duty for a stage in that composite com promise with the acted drama. The Bishop himself ' took the chair,' and opened the proceedings from above with a brief introduction of the two artists ; then, re tiring to his place in the front row of stalls, sat beside his spouse, the Lady Eunice Stillingfleet. A double row of magnates occupied the seats to right and left and behind him, the fairer majority of them in silk but plain attire, very modestly besprinkled with diamonds few and fine.

Next to these came the Dean and Canons, with their lady wives coifed after the old window-curtain fashion, and their daughters a la Chinoise, innocent of fringe or curl. Farther back, the rank of the personages dwindled as their wealth increased. Still farther, the social status changed, as the townspeople — taboo to the country — filled in the small, remoter places. Between the two, in the last high-priced row of the well-to-do, sat one remarkable man on ' Press ' claims — -David Blair, editor of the ' Searchlight Magazine,' and Non conformist minister in the village of Watercombe, a few miles up the same small stream that washed the pre cinct walls at Witanbourne. Beside him sat his three daughters, PrisciUa, Annie, and Ena, gathered under his wing at the Shakespearian recital, after a smart passage-of-arms at home.

Now it so happened that PrisciUa, the eldest sister, B was opposed on principle to anything approaching intellectual pleasure within the brief span of this transi tory life. To convert all other persons to her way of thinking was the one purpose of her existence, her family being marked down first as her own special, pre destined prey. At the breakfast-table that morning, when the four complimentary tickets were handed in with the Dean's kind regards, the trumpet of war gave out no uncertain sound. ' Father, you have not been to anything of this kind for years — is it wise to resume the old habit ? ' This with a fixed gaze of reproof from beneath the black brows, strongly contrasted with the stiff, stubborn hair, already sprinkled with the peppery-salty tints that halt between the jetty shimmer of youth and the soften ing snows of age.

The home censor was low and square in stature and formidable in self-assertion, taking special pride in her points of resemblance with the drawback of the apostle of the Gentiles. The head of the house looked up with mild eyes of remonstrance, searching for an ally amongst his younger girls, and lacking the courage of his opinions, through the long-established, unfortunate habit of giving in for peace sake. 'PrisciUa, my dear,' he pleaded, 'this evening's dissipation will supply me with most inter esting copy for next month's number ' ' What, father ! ' exclaimed his eldest daughter, ' and suppose you have to go, as a matter of business, are Annie and Ena to break through the rules you have laid down, and passed your solemn word to see them kept by your family — until we are married or old enough to judge for ourselves ? ' A Shakespearian Bishop 5 This with a grim look that took in her juniors, along with her natural guide, in one sweep of suppressed condemnation. ' Every one cannot be as devoted a Christian as you, my dear.

I must own I am glad to unbend once in a way, as a relief from my work. I don't mean as a habit. You know I hold with Shakespeare — in many things.' ' I know you do — and with Burns too, and Byron.' ' My dear, I admire their genius — not their faults.' ' Their misuse of such gifts is the greater sin. Where do you believe are Burns and Byron now ? ' ' My child, I judge no one. I dare not assume the attribute of God.' ' You hesitate to condemn these who have dis honoured Him by their lives and writings. Shake speare, whatever you may say, has often wounded our sense of decency by language we none of us could repeat.' ' I don't deny that. But his coarseness was the fault of his times ; his spirit was deeply imbued with the living truth; the word of God was familiar to hire, as to ourselves. I trust he has found mercy.' ' Oh, father !

After eating and drinking himself to death.' ' My dear, that is mere slander ; as he says, viperous slander, that enters the secrets of the grave.' ' Possibly. What he wrote remains to corrupt the minds of the frivolous and worldly with impure sugges tions.' ' PrisciUa ! What put that into your head ? ' ' I have been studying Shakespeare of late, with a desire to model my own style after the best examples of English, for my writing of tracts.' ' Quite right. Well, and then ? ' 'It was explained, shown, proved to me, by our Beloved ' ' That's my title with some people, I believe,' said her father, with a deprecatory smile. ' Yes, father ; I know. But I meant ' ' Mr. Ananias Hellier, I suppose, since you have joined his brotherhood.' ' That blessed saint has pointed out and explained to me several passages in Shakespeare unfit for more particular mention than to say no moral man, even if he were not a Christian, could suffer his daughters to read such a book.' ' Oh, that's Mr. Hellier's point of view.

You would not have noticed these passages by yourself? ' ' Of course not. There were others, he said, much worse — so bad, in fact, that he would not dare to mention them in any woman's presence, much less explain what they meant.' ' Quite so. If he had ventured upon such exposi tions to my daughters, I should have had something to say to him. Well, I don't hold with this putting on of spectacles to find out spots in the sun.' ' Oh, father ! Shakespeare was only a sinful, mortal man.' ' And an immortal singer. Never, apart from God's own inspired Word, was our common nature endowed with such gifts as his.' ' Father, are you not making an idol ? ' 1 No. I revere the power of God in creating that A Shakespearian Bishop 7 Master after the Divine spirit. I would rather be ignorant of the human lapses into the grossness of the age.' ' It is most painful to me to find my father in con flict with my own spiritual lights.' ' I put no constraint upon you, PrisciUa ; you do just as you like.

But I cannot forbid my other children from an intellectual treat that seems innocent: — to me.' ' To hear an actor and actress speak indecent things, oh, father! ' ' They will hear nothing of the kind. Every doubtful line and word disappears from the acting edition of the plays.' ' It is almost like going to the theatre and cheating the devil.' ' Well, I have gone to a theatre.' Priscilla's look of misery would have penetrated a stone. She suffered from a sense of the humiliating fact that the paternal start in life and journalism was as a dramatic critic on a leading daily, that having been in his career the turn of the tide Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. This circumstance, systematically suppressed by David Blair's later biographers, was raised out of the past like a family skeleton, and as promptly thrust back by the eldest daughter of the house with a long spell of ominous silence preceding her speech. ' You would not do so now, father, nor allow any of your daughters.' ' I could not.

In my own opinion it would be no harm. Much better Christians than I, or any of us, my dear, go to see the Marsdens play Shakespeare. But I and my family are tied by my ministry.' ' PrisciUa,' exclaimed Ena, the youngest, in protest, ' it was you who put a stop to everything, just as I was growing up to a taste for these things. I remember you, when I was a small child, going to plays and operas ' ' Because I had never been taught better. I do very differently, since I am old enough to judge for myself.' ' Since I am old enough to go out into the world, unfortunately. I wish I had been the eldest, to have had a good time like you. I shouldn't have grudged you your turn now.' ' Grudged you, Ena ! It is only my love for your soul.' ' Come, come ! ' interposed the head of the house, 'we must agree to differ.

Ena shall come with me to this Shakespearian evening, and Annie, what do you say ? ' ' Yes, yes, please, father.' ' Well, PrisciUa, and you shall go to prayer-meeting with your own set, and help us to resist temptation.' Another portentous silence for several seconds ; then, 1 1 don't see why I am to be kept out of everything you allow my sisters ; I know Ena is your favourite, father.' She has him there. Ena, gentle, loving, gifted, disobedient, had stolen her way farthest into that human heart ; for, saint as he was, David Blair could be bended, man-like, towards his fairest, youngest flower. He could only say, 'Then, my dear PrisciUa, we will all enjoy it together.' So they four were among the audience that memorable night.

Chapter II

A GOLDEN VOICE The effect of Mrs. Marsden's scenes was like some powerful, mysterious enchantment, subduing her listeners, mind and body, to the uttermost ' reaches of their souls,' to the last fibre of sensation. Literally, she held her audience in the hollow of her hand. It was not alone the rich music of her voice with its throb of tears and ring of laughter ; it was not merely the spells of her weird, dark beauty that compelled every human faculty to bow down to her will ; no, there was something more, inexpressible, resistless, that crowned her as the golden-lipped idol of the world, set high above her rivals in art, as mistress and queen, unpara goned, unapproachable. The young and ardent spirit of Ena Blair succumbed at the first glance. Too long forbidden the natural desires of her age, the girl was dazed as by a sudden, blinding light.

Pleasure, passionate, dangerous, over whelming, crept through her senses, burnt along her veins, mingling with the stream of life. Moderation, the counsel of religion, of philosophy, of wisdom, human and divine, fled away like an offended guardian angel, and the girl was actually wild with the unaccustomed excitement. Much better to have permitted her, from her eager childhood, a gradual seasoning in the fascinations of the acted scene. Mad exclamations escaped her, while the men and women of the world around her were moved, it might be, but undisturbed by what, to them, was but the amusement of an idle evening. Re called to the proprieties by a light touch of her father'3 hand, as she was all but leaping from her seat, Ena sank back, mute as a stone, dwelling motionless in long silence. After an opening prelude of Mendelssohn, Mrs. Marsden's first scenes were chosen from ' Antony and Cleopatra,' that witching dream of passion, Imperial power, and fallen greatness.

The part of the Egyptian queen, rejected by the great Siddons, strangely fitted Mrs. Marsden; the individuality of the devoted wife and mother — as she was in her own character — entirely merging itself in the gipsy-like sorceress, whose en trancing beauty, charm of voice, and glamour of eye and motion became real, living creations in the great artist's impersonation. With rare tact she had strung together a series of short scenes, displaying the impe rious coquetry, indomitable will, womanly caprice and all-dominating passion that composed the strange mix ture of discordant propensities combined in one of Shakespeare's maddest, most vivid examples of our diverse humanity. It was nature pure and simple, poor frail flesh and blood, revealed on the seamy side through the power that compels our interest in an Ibsen play, while offending our higher instincts ; but in Mrs. Marsden's hands, the baser elements of the character were swept away by the ground-swell and fury of emotion that seemed to rise like a flood and close above every head with its overwhelming power.

Yet no word was spoken, no action suffered, beyond the bounds of modesty and refined taste. Glee-singing by the Cathedral choir made a break of repose to the one supreme voice ; then followed a selection from Rosalind's forest scenes. In these, George Marsden, as Orlando, gave a taste of his artistic quality, a valuable adjunct in itself, although his fame rested more on his merit as manager than as player, and his pride was mainly set on producing and sup porting his wife. Together they moved much mirth and a ripple of low laughter, never rising to any loud, vulgar demonstration, till they bowed their exit, hand in hand, with many cordial recalls and congratula tions. Then, after another musical interlude, a changed woman appeared in the person of Isabel, the veiled novice of ' Measure for Measure,' ' A thing enskied, ensainted,' in her hallowed loveliness, for the awe and reverence of men.

A part seldom acted and only attainable by consummate gifts of nature and art, the divine spark of genius. The old terrible story of a woman's honour demanded as the only ransom for a beloved life. No man, nor any woman but herself, could have made this drama acceptable to that special audience as Mrs. Marsden did, in her purity as absolute as in her marvellous tragic power. Dignitaries and fathers accepted it with grave approval, as they would have listened to some great poem founded on Holy Writ, after the manner of ' Paradise Lost.' Then followed the mid-programme pause. In ad miration of what was past, in eager expectation of what was to come, the stream of discussion flowed on, well bred, if more or less intelligent. For the second part was set down the wooing of Katharine of France from ' Henry the Fifth,' as a lighter relief to the tragic scenes.

This was an elocutionary feat renowned for the variety and 'grip' that could realise several contrasted cha racters within the compass of one voice. In conclusion, came the passing scene of Katharine of Aragon from ' Henry the Eighth,' with the heavenly music in her dying ears rendered by stringed instruments, flutes, and the voices of the choir. By and bye, David Blair was drawn by a side im pulsion among a knot of Anglican clergymen, by whom his worth was recognised in the true spirit of their common Christianity, while Dean Pentecost, as an old friend, took his place between the elder sisters and Ena. This girl was his especial pupil, whom he had prepared a year or so before for confirmation in her mother's faith. Thus, when PrisciUa joined a straiter sect of the Pharisees than her father's spirit could bear, there was only the unobtrusive, colourless Annie left to follow the minister as a disciple of his own house.

Between the two elder daughters, and the youngest sister and only brother, Hamet, there was a deep gap of years, a division by death of the father's first wife. He re married, somewhat late in life, a woman of contrasting though congenial temperament to his own, whom he met in the literary world where his best years were spent. She was a born singer and speaker, baulked of her desire, which she compromised by an alliance with letters. Through her writing, she became acquainted with David Blair, who surrendered to his besetting weakness for a fair face and bright wit in womankind. Thus hedged uneasily by marriage within her husband's Nonconformist connection, her life was shortened, as he remorsefully confessed, by controversies and restraints from which his love had failed to shield her altogether.

After her loss, David would compare her to Milton's ' late espoused saint,' struck by the death-dart his mortal arm had no power to turn aside. ' Oh, Doctor Pentecost,' cried the girl, after the first few words of greeting, ' do tell me all about that wonderful Mrs. Marsden.' Then, a little taken aback by the Dean's half-amused, half-indulgent smile : ' Is she not staying with the Bishop and Lady Eunice ? Have you not seen her there ? Spoken to her? Is she not delightful to meet ? Doesn't she talk like a living poem ? Is she not as beautiful as ever by daylight, plainly dressed ? Can't you tell me everything about her ? Oh, I do so long to know ! ' ' Why, what a very Rosalind you are, my dear ! Twenty questions in a breath ! You've caught Mrs. Marsden's look and intonation in a moment ; you hardly want my coaching up in her history.' Ena blushed deeply, and with downcast eyes dropped her excuse : ' Forgive me ; I only meant I want to love her as a woman, for the delight her talent has given me.

She deserves that, I know.' ' True, I believe she does. The Bishop and Lady Eunice are among her fast friends ; the Marsdens are on intimate terms with several of the most illustrious men and women of the century — with Royalty. I believe your father has met them in former times. There could not be the slightest objection to your meeting her at the Palace, as you are so very anxious indeed.' ' Oh, if you can — if I might be so fortunate.' ' Well, I'll speak to Lady Eunice. I dare say it can be arranged.' And so it was. The Dean went up to the front row, where Lady Eunice kept her state, while her Lord Bishop made himself pleasant to all and sundry in the central space kept clear from end to end of the long room. After a few minutes' conference, Dr. Pentecost returned, brimful of his message : ' Your father, Miss Ena, is already invited to meet Mrs. Marsden at lunch to-morrow, by that lady's own wish.

Lady Eunice desires me to request that you will give her the pleasure of your company.' ' Dear Dr. Pentecost ' At half-past one. Mrs. Marsden is bound for a London train later in the afternoon ; her husband's duties call him up by morning express.' ' Indeed ! ' ' Yes. They are rehearsing a new piece. So now, Miss Ena, I hope you are satisfied. You will have two hours good to cultivate Mrs. Marsden's acquaintance.' ' Doctor, you are a darling ! I shall hope to know her quite well before ' PrisciUa put in her word : ' Are you sure your father will permit your making acquaintance with an actress ? ' ' With Mrs. Marsden, in the Bishop's house ? Quite sure. Why, father knows her himself. If he goes to meet her, surely he can take me with him.' ' Your father is a man. He may know her as an editor ; in business, it may be his duty to meet her.

But she was never invited to his house. I never knew her.' ' Perhaps my mother did.' ' Not that I am aware of. I can't answer for what was done while I was at school, but I don't believe my father would have sanctioned his wife's acquaintance with any one of that sort.' ' Oh, PrisciUa ! My father is kind and good to every one.' ' Perhaps he goes too far ; it is not for me to say. But you are bound to decline the invitation, if he forbids you from meeting Mrs. Marsden.' ' You won't try to make him do that. I should feel so guilty ; it would be a downright insult to the Bishop and Lady Eunice for inviting me.' ' They should have asked your father's permission first. You are very young, a child, I may say, and you want to do things that I would not do.' ' But they have not invited you, PrisciUa.' ' Of course not,' spat out the elder sister, with a venomous twist of the lips.

The Dean interposed, with the usual effect of peacemakers in such case. 1 My dear young lady ' ' I don't pretend to be young.' ' Well, Miss PrisciUa, if you will condescend to accompany your sister, I have only to say a word to Lady Eunice, and I am sure ' ' No. Please, Doctor, do nothing of the sort.' ' It would give me the greatest pleasure ' ' Don't, if you please. I won't be thrust in where I'm not wanted.' ' Why should you not be welcome ? Your father is my old friend ; the Bishop knows that, and for his own sake every one loves Mr. Blair.' 'I know. But there are too many of us.' Here, with a glance of severity, she took in the other two. ' Ena is the favourite at home and abroad. What with her youth and beauty, and all the rest, my half sister is much more liked and sought after than I am — than any of us.

You see, our mothers were so different.' The tone and manner sufficiently conveyed the fact that Ena was scarcely forgiven for coming into the world. The Dean, being a cautious man, held his peace, retiring to his proper seat, as the first notes of the musical prelude heralded the reappearance of the evening's star. When all was over, the three sisters were gathered under their father's wing, and comfortably packed into their hired brougham for home delivery. Ena and Annie sat silent, the latter by temperament, the former too full in heart for words. The father also was prudently reticent, while PrisciUa ran on as a consti tutional ' find-fault,' picking censorious holes and casting stray pebbles into other people's gardens. It was hard on midnight when the close of the evening's dissipation deposited the party at their own door. , Now David, being a douce Scotchman, and still imperfectly weaned from certain unregenerate, editorial habits, was rather apt to backslide into late sitting-up for a smoke and mild glass of toddy, with a talk over those rare evenings of worldly pleasure which the powers of darkness were fain to cast as stumbling blocks before him.

He was not pressed to renounce his one glass ; PrisciUa herself was unable to go with the new and friendly Bishop on the thorny path of total abstinence. On the question of his pipe, David stood equally firm ; he could even ' thank God for a good cigar,' after the manner of Spurgeon. This much was conceded to him ; but he was scandalously addicted to unearthly hours — the sole reproach that marred his saintliness. PrisciUa, knowing this, took her own course ; disposing in haste of a foie-gras sandwich and a couple of glasses of port, by way of prophylactic against illness, she elected to close her eyes on the paternal foibles in the sleep of the just. Having bid good-night, she went, followed by Annie, leaving the father and youngest child alone together. His look dwelt upon Ena with unspeakable love, and she was aware of a moisture glistening in his eye that pleaded for the desire of her heart.

A letter lay in his hand, taken up from the hall table as they came in, and evidently of moment, for he had put it away in his breast-pocket after a hasty glance. Now he took it out, and read it through, slowly, with changing countenance. Then, without a word spoken, he put it into Ena's hand. She read, half aloud : — 'Dear Mr. Blair, — Perhaps you may remember Olivia Morland, the girl from Princess College, who can never forget your kindness in the long ago, when she was making her first start in the battle of life. We did not meet very often; yet we were fast friends on principle, parted by circumstances only. Your dear wife lives in the memory of my love, and for her sake C I ask you to meet me again, and let me become known to your children. May it be to-morrow on the Bishop's invitation ?

I have much to tell you. ' Your old friend, ' Olivia Mabsden.' ' Father, you will go ? You will take me with you ? ' ' Yes, my darling child.' A brief prayer together, and then good-night. *9

Chapter III

A STAR WITHIN THE CLOSE ' A vision has come to me in this dull, cold life, with a sound of spiritual music from the great Unseen. What a revelation ! borne to me through one woman's voice, and eyes of burning fire. What did I know of poetry, appealing to us in its divine music, the speech of soul to soul ? The language of the inspired prophets, in which God Himself chose to hold converse with the spirit of man ? What did I know of Shakespeare, the seer and singer nursed on Bible truth, as my father says, till I heard him speak through her lips ? And she lives away, far away from this village, where I grow more unhappy every day, more weary of the humdrum round and cold gray life that crushes me, spirit, heart, and body, into a limp, hopeless thing. They tell me I am fond of excitement, and that is a sin.