Chapter VII: Harmony of Sounds does not always ensure Harmony of Souls

Whilst these performances were going on, Mr. David Owen, sullen and unsocial, had planted himself on a bench as far apart from the principal gentry as he could, and obstinately resisted all solicitations to take a seat more suitable to his rank, and more respectful to the company there assembled. Mr. De Lancaster however, as a mark of his attention, had desired his son Philip to place himself by his side, and take care that nothing was omitted, that could add to his entertainment or accommodation. Nothing could be more acceptable to Philip than a commission of this sort, which consigned him to a post, where he might sit unseeing and unseen, and happily enjoy a complete vacation from thought, whilst his sulky neighbour, wearied with his morning’s chace, and little interested by what was going forward, fell asleep.

The bustle however, which Nancy Ap Rees had occasioned when she led her father on the stage, caused the drowsy gentleman to open his eyes just as our John De Lancaster was sallying to her assistance--That youngster of yours, said David, methinks is very officious. I am weary of this mummery. Can’t we slip aside, and repose ourselves in a quiet room till this tiresome business is all over? I believe you find as little amusement in it as I do.

I find none at all, Philip replied, and rising up, cried, now is the moment, follow me.

When the assembly had broken up, and the gentry were filing off to the collation, that was set out for them in the great parlour, Mr. David Owen and his umbra in the bottle green were missing. It was suspected they had retired to Philip’s private room, and our hero John was dispatched to find them. This discovery was soon made, and his message as soon delivered. Philip set out upon the summons, when young Owen, instead of following him out of the room, which he seemed prepared to do, shut the door, and turning to John, who was civilly attending upon him, said to him in his ironical and sneering way--Upon my word, young gentleman, you have made a very capital display of your agility before the company in jumping on the stage, and shewing off your gallantry towards a young wench, who is in the high situation of daughter to our old blind harper, and a domestic in our family.

Sir, replied the youth, I considered her situation in no other light than as she seemed to want assistance, and in tendering that, I trust I have not offended Mr. David Owen.

Oh, by no means, replied the other in the same taunting tone; you afforded me an opportunity of admiring you in the amiable attitude of succouring a distressed and fainting damsel--besides, give me leave to observe, that such a heavy load of music without a little dancing between whiles would have been absolutely insupportable, and I felt myself unspeakably obliged to you for the relief, which your elegant performance so seasonably afforded; and if my respect for the ladies present had not bound me to silence, I should have requested you to have repeated that delightful rigadoon with Miss Nancy Ap Rees for my particular entertainment.

There are no ladies here present, cried the gallant youth, stepping up to him; so, if you are in the same humour still, your respect need not stop you: but let me remind you, Mr. Owen, that it is no mark of courage to insult me under the sanction of a roof, where the laws of hospitality forbid me to resent it. Take your opportunity of playing off your spiteful jests upon me in any other place, and you shall find me, though your inferior in the art of ridicule, at least your equal in the spirit of a gentleman. I know you can throw dirt and bespatter very ingeniously, and enjoy the mischief as a joke, without remorse for the pain and injury it inflicts.

At this moment Edward Wilson entered the room, and from the last words, which he had heard, and the angry countenance of his pupil, guessing what had passed--John De Lancaster, he cried, recollect yourself!

Aye, sir, resumed the demy-Spaniard, now more pale and sallow with his rage, teach your schoolboy better manners, and warn him how he carries himself so unbecomingly towards one, who is every way his superior.

Tell me first, said Wilson, in what my pupil has offended you; and as you are his superior in age, avail yourself of that advantage by stating your dispute calmly and dispassionately, and let me fairly judge between you.

No, sir, replied the haughty youth, I shall state nothing, nor let any man be judge over me; least of all a gentleman in your predicament, Mr. Wilson, whose judgment I can pretty well guess at. Let your angry boy make up his story as he likes, and you may believe it, or not, as you like. I care not. Into this house I will never enter more with my good will.

In that respect, said Wilson, you must do as you see fit; but command yourself at present, and that you may not disturb the harmony of the night, let me recommend it to you to join the company.

And if I do, sir, resumed the insolent, give me leave to tell you that wherever and whenever I sit down at table with any one, that bears the name of De Lancaster, I shall consider myself as in company with my inferior.

Hold! You forget yourself, cried the reverend Mr. Wilson; you are much too lofty; and if you do not speedily correct that pride yourself, somebody will be found to do it for you.

Go, go! said Owen, don’t tutor me, tutor your schoolboy, and let him think himself well off, that he has escaped chastisement.

Chastisement! exclaimed John, and put himself before the door; you dare as well eat fire, as repeat that to me in another place.

As John was saying this, David Owen, who was making for the door, put him aside, rather roughly, with his hand, and walked out of the room in that kind of strutting style, which a braggart finds it convenient to assume on his departure, when he feels the time is come, that counterfeited courage will no longer serve his purpose.

Was not that a blow, cried John, eagerly arresting Wilson, as he was about to follow? Has not that Jew-born miscreant given me a blow?

What ails you? Are you mad? It was no blow.

It makes my flesh burn where his hand was on me. Indeed, indeed! I feel it as a blow. I’m sure he struck me. Why should you deny it? I thought you had been my friend.

I am your friend, said Wilson, looking him stedfastly in the face, and if you do not consider me as such because I did not suffer you to disgrace the hospitality of your grandfather by a fray with one of his guests, you do not judge of me with truth and candour, but in the heat of passion and resentment.

Disarmed, and brought to instant recollection by this temperate remonstrance, the brave youth cried out--I’m wrong, I’m wrong! I pray you to forgive me. You are my friend, and I depend upon you: but call it what you will--a push, a touch--the spite and malice of the action gives it the cast and character of a blow; and to put up with a blow from David Owen, what could there be in life so disgraceful, what in death so dreadful as that?

John, John, said Wilson gravely and authoritatively, I must remind you in what charge I stand towards you, and by what duty you are bound to me: I tell you once again, it was no blow. You put yourself between him and the door; he could not pass you otherwise than he did. Come, come, you must reform this angry spirit; it savours of revenge; and to carry such an inmate in your bosom, would be neither for your reputation, nor repose. There is however one species of revenge, in which I will assist you, I mean the revenge of virtue, the triumph of a good and noble character over an ignoble and an evil one: that victory if you can obtain (and it shall be my study to point out the road to it) you will then establish a fair title to that superiority over David Owen, which he now vainly arrogates over you. Come then, my dear John, let us henceforward set about that honourable task in earnest, and in the mean time treat his insolence only with contempt.