“See yonder beaux, so delicately gay; And yonder belles, so'deck'd in thin array—
Ah! rather see not what a decent pride
Would teach a maiden modestly to hide;
The dress so flimsy, the exposure such,
“twould almost make a very wanton blush.
E'en married dames, forgetting what is due
To sacred ties, give half clad charms to view.
What calls them forth to brave the daring glance,
The public ball, the midnight wanton dance?
There many a blooming nymph, by fashion led,
Has felt her health, her peace, her honour fled;
Truss'd her fine form to strange fantastic shapes,
To be admir'd, and twirl'd about by apes;
Or, mingling in the motley masquerade,
Found innocence by visor'd vice betrayed.”
 
AN agreeable lounge through the Parks in the morning afforded them an opportunity of recalling in idea the pleasures of the past Real Life in London, of which Tallyho had been enabled to partake, and during which he again signified a desire to change the scene, by a departure at an early period for his native vales, to breathe, as he observed, the uncontaminated air of the country—to watch the wary pointer, and mark the rising covey—to pursue the timid hare, or chase the cunning fox; and Dashall finding him inflexible, notwithstanding his glowing descriptions of scenes yet unexplored, at length consented to accompany him to Belville Hall, upon condition that they should return again in a month. This mode of arrangement seemed perfectly satisfactory to Bob; and a view of the Panorama and a peep at the Tennis Court would have finished their rambles for the day, but at the latter place of amusement and healthful exercise, meeting with young Mortimer, a further developement of facts relative to Sparkle and his Bride transpired; in which it appeared that they had arrived at their place of destination, and had forwarded an invitation to his brother-in-law to [405] pay them an early visit, and who proposed starting in a few days.
“Well,” said Dashall, “we will all go together, and no doubt with our old friend Sparkle we shall be able to endure the unchanging prospects of a country life.”
“In the Country how blest, when it rains in the fields,
To feast upon transports that shuttle-cock yields;
Or go crawling from window to window, to see
An ass on a common, a crow on a tree.
 
In the Country you're nail'd, like some pale in your park,
To some stick of a neighbour, crammed into the ark;
And if you are sick, or in fits tumble down,
You reach death ere the Doctor can reach you from town.”
 
“Never mind,” cried Tallyho, “a change of scene will no doubt be useful, and, at all events, by enduring the one, we may learn more judiciously to appreciate the other.”
“True,” said Tom, “and I shall like myself all the better for being in good company. But pray, Mr. Mortimer, what do you mean to do at the approaching masquerade?”
“Not quite decided yet,” was the reply.
“You go, of course?”
“Certainly—as Orpheus, or Apollo. But pray what character do you intend to sustain?”
“That's a secret—”
“Worth knowing, I suppose—well, well, I shall find you out, never fear.”
“Time's a tell-tale,” said Dashall, “and will most likely unfold all mysteries; but I always think the life and spirit of a masquerade is much injured by a knowledge of the characters assumed by friends, unless it be where two or more have an intention of playing, as it were, to, and with each other; for where there is mystery, there is always interest. I shall therefore propose that we keep to ourselves the characters in which we mean to appear; for I am determined, if possible, to have a merry night of it.”
“On the lightly sportive wing,
At pleasure's call we fly;
Hark! they dance, they play, they sing,
In merry merry revelry;
Hark! the tabors lively beat,
And the flute in numbers sweet,
Fill the night with delight
At the Masquerade.
Let the grave ones warn us as they may,
Of every harmless joy afraid;
Whilst we're young and gay,
We'll frolic and play
At the Masquerade.”
 
[406] Tom's observations upon this subject were in perfect accordance with those of. Mortimer and Tallyho; though he had intended to consult his Cousin as to the character he should appear in, he now determined to take his own direction, or to have advice from Fentum in the Strand, whose advertisements to supply dresses, &c. he had observed in the newspapers.
These preliminaries being decided upon, as far as appeared needful at the moment, Mortimer departed towards home, where he expected to meet his Uncle upon his return from the chase after the fugitives, Sparkle and Miss Mortimer, now Mrs. Sparkle; and Tom and Bob to Piccadilly, where a select party of Dashall's friends were invited to dinner, and where they enjoyed a pleasant evening, drank rather freely, and had but little to regret after it, except certain qualmish feelings of the head and stomach the next morning.
The anticipated Masquerade had been the principal subject of conversation, so long as reason held her sway; but the hard exercise of the arm, and the generosity of the wine, had an early and visible effect upon some of the party, who did not separate till a late hour, leaving Bob just strength and intelligence enough to find the way to his dormitory.
By the arrival of the appointed evening for the grand Masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens, Tom Dashall, who had a particular view in keeping his intended proceedings a secret, had arranged all to his wishes, and anticipated considerable amusement from the interest he should take in the safety of his Cousin, whom he entertained no doubt of quickly discovering, and with whom he determined to promote as much mirth as possible.
Tallyho, in the mean time, had also made occasional calls upon Merrywell in his confinement, and, under his direction, been preparing for the occasion, equally determined, if possible, to turn the laugh on his Cousin; [407] and it must be acknowledged, he could scarcely have found a more able tutor, though he was doomed rather to suffer by his confidence in his instructor, as will hereafter be seen; for, in escaping the intended torment of one, he was unexpectedly subjected to the continual harassing of another.
It was about half after eleven o'clock, when Tallyho, duly equipped in his country costume, as a Huntsman, entered this splendid and spacious scene of brilliancy. The blaze of light which burst upon him, and the variety of characters in constant motion, appeared almost to render him motionless; and several of the would-be characters passed him with a vacant stare, declaring he was no character at all! nor was he roused from his lethargic position till he heard a view halloo, which seemed to come from a distant part of the Garden, and was so delivered, as actually to give him an idea of the party being in pursuit of game, by growing fainter towards the close, as if receding from him. The sound immediately animated him, and answering it in a truly sportsman-like style, he burst from his situation, and cracking his whip, at full speed followed in the direction from which it came, under the impression that he knew the voice of Dashall, and should discover him. In his speed, however, he was rather rudely attacked by a small dandy personage, whose outward appearance indicated some pretensions to manhood, with a “Demmee, Sir, how dare you be rude to my voman! for egad I shall have you clapped in the Round-house—here, Vatchman, take this here man in charge—Vatch! Vatch!” The voice however soon told him he had a lady to deal with, and he entered into a long harangue by way of apology. This not being acceptable to the offended party, he was surrounded by a host of Charleys springing their rattles all at once, and, notwithstanding the dexterous use of his whip, he was obliged to yield. At this moment, Tallyho was again sounded in his ears, issuing from another quarter; but his struggles to pursue the party from whom it came were ineffectual. A rough-hewn Sailor with a pipe in his mouth, and an immense cudgel in his hand, however, arrived to his assistance, accompanied by an Irish Chairman in a large blue coat, and a cock'd hat bound with gold lace, armed with a chair-pole, who effected his liberty; and he again scoured off in pursuit [408] of his friend, but without success. He now began to think his situation not altogether so pleasant as he could wish. He listened to every voice, examined every form that passed him in rapid succession; yet he felt himself alone, and determined not to be led away by sounds such as had already occupied his attention, but rather to look about him, and notice the eccentricities with which he was surrounded. Sauntering along in this mood, he was presently assailed by a voice behind him, exclaiming, “Bob—
“Bob, if you wish to go safely on,
Tarn round about, and look out for the Don.”
 
Upon hearing this, he turned hastily around, and encountered a group of Chimney-sweepers, who immediately set up such a clatter with their brushes and shovels, dancing at the same time in the true May-day style round him and a strapping Irish fish-woman, that he was completely prevented from pursuit, and almost from observation, while a universal laugh from those near him bespoke the mirth his situation excited; and the Hibernian damsel, with true Irish sympathy, attempted to allay his chagrin by clasping him in her brawny arms, and imprinting on his ruddy cheek a kiss. This only served to heighten their merriment and increase his embarrassment, particularly as his Cher ami swore she had not had a buss like it since the death of her own dear dead and departed Phelim, the last of her four husbands, who died of a whiskey fever, bawling for pratees and buttermilk, and was waked in a coal-shed.
This mark of the Lady's favour was not so favourably received by Tallyho, and, determined to make his escape, he gave Moll a violent fling from him, overturned her and her basket, knock'd down two of the Chimney-sweepers, and then with a leap as if he had been springing at a five-barred gate, jumped over his late companion, who lay sprawling among the flue-fakers, and effected his purpose, to the inexpressible amusement of those, who, after enjoying a hearty laugh at him, now transferred their risibility to those he left behind. Finding himself once more unshackled, he smack'd his whip with enthusiasm, and repeated his Tallyho with increased effect; for it was immediately answered, and, without waiting for its final close, he found the person from whom it was [409] proceeding to be no other than a Turk, who was precipitately entering one of the rooms, and was as quickly recognized by him to be the Hon. Tom Dashall. The alteration which a Turkish turban and pelisse had effected in his person, would however have operated as an effectual bar to this discovery, had he not seized him in the very moment of vociferation; and although his Cousin had been the chief cause of the adventures he had already met with, he had at the same time kept an eye upon Bob, and been equally instrumental in effecting his release from embarrassment.
“Come,” said Tom, “I am for a little gig in the Room—how long have you been here?—I thought I should find you out, very few can disguise themselves from me; we will now be spectators for half an hour, and enjoy the mirth excited by others.”
“With all my heart,” rejoined Bob, “for I am almost as tired already as if I had spent a whole day in a fox-chase, and have run as many risks of my neck; so that a cool half hour's observation will be very acceptable.”
They had scarcely entered the Room, as a Priscilla Tomboy passed them at full speed with a skipping-rope, for whose accommodation every one made way; and who, having skipped round the room to shew her fine formed ancle and flexibility of limbs, left it for a moment, and returned with a large doll, which she appeared as pleased with as a child of eight or ten years of age. A Jemmy Jumps assured Tom, that his garments were altogether unsuitable to the nation in which he was residing, and recommended that he should not exist another day without that now very fashionable appendage of a Gentleman's dress called stays—An excellent Caleb Quotem, by his smartness of repartee and unceasing volubility of speech in recounting his labours of a day—“a summer's day,” as the poet says, afforded much amusement by his powers of out-talking the fribble of a Staymaker, who, finding himself confused by his eternal clack, fled in search of another customer. A Don Quixote was conferring the honour of knighthood on a clumsy representative of the God of Love, and invoking his aid in return, to accomplish the object of finding his lost Dulcinea. An outlandish fancy-dressed character was making an assignation with a Lady, who, having taken the veil and renounced the sex, kindly consented to forego [410] her vows and meet him again; while a Devil behind her was hooking the cock'd-hat of the gay deceiver to the veil of the Nun, which created considerable laughter, for as they attempted to separate, they were both completely unmasked, and discovered, to the amazement of Tallyho, two well-known faces, little expected there by him—no other than Merrywell as the Dandy Officer, and his friend Mr. Safebind as the Nun. The exposure rather confused them, while Tom and Bob joined the merry Devil in a loud burst of laughter—they however bustled through the room and were quickly lost.
 Page410 Masquerade 
A French Frisseur, without any knowledge of the language of the nation from which he appeared to come, could only answer a question a la Fran?oise from the accomplished Tom Dashall, by a volume of scented powder from his puff, which being observed by a Chimney-sweeper, was returned by dust of another colour from his soot-bag, till the intermixture of white and black left it difficult to decide which was the Barber and which the Sweep. They were now suddenly attracted by a grotesque dance between a Clown of the Grimaldi school and a fan............