Nothing But The Interference Of The Peace Officers Restored Some Degree
Of Order.
The havoc, however, that had been made among dresses and
decorations put an end to all farther acting for that day.
The battle
over, the next thing was to inquire why it was begun; a common question
among politicians, after a bloody and unprofitable war; and one not
always easy to be answered. It was soon traced to me, and my
unaccountable transport of passion, which they could only attribute to
my having run a muck. The manager was judge and jury, and plaintiff
in the bargain, and in such cases justice is always speedily
administered. He came out of the fight as sublime a wreck as the
Santissima Trinidada. His gallant plumes, which once towered aloft,
were drooping about his ears. His robe of state hung in ribbands from
his back, and but ill concealed the ravages he had suffered in the
rear. He had received kicks and cuffs from all sides, during the
tumult; for every one took the opportunity of slyly gratifying some
lurking grudge on his fat carcass. He was a discreet man, and did not
choose to declare war with all his company; so he swore all those kicks
and cuffs had been given by me, and I let him enjoy the opinion. Some
wounds he bore, however, which were the incontestible traces of a
woman's warfare. His sleek rosy cheek was scored by trickling furrows,
which were ascribed to the nails of my intrepid and devoted Columbine.
The ire of the monarch was not to be appeased. He had suffered in his
person, and he had suffered in his purse; his dignity too had been
insulted, and that went for something; for dignity is always more
irascible the more petty the potentate. He wreaked his wrath upon the
beginners of the affray, and Columbine and myself were discharged, at
once, from the company.
Figure me, then, to yourself, a stripling of little more than sixteen;
a gentleman by birth; a vagabond by trade; turned adrift upon the
world; making the best of my way through the crowd of West End fair; my
mountebank dress fluttering in rags about me; the weeping Columbine
hanging upon my arm, in splendid, but tattered finery; the tears
coursing one by one down her face; carrying off the red paint in
torrents, and literally "preying upon her damask cheek."
The crowd made way for us as we passed and hooted in our rear. I felt
the ridicule of my situation, but had too much gallantry to desert this
fair one, who had sacrificed everything for me. Having wandered through
the fair, we emerged, like another Adam and Eve, into unknown regions,
and "had the world before us where to choose." Never was a more
disconsolate pair seen in the soft valley of West End. The luckless
Columbine cast back many a lingering look at the fair, which seemed to
put on a more than usual splendor; its tents, and booths, and
parti-colored groups, all brightening in the sunshine, and gleaming
among the trees; and its gay flags and streamers playing and fluttering
in the light summer airs.
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