And then, what a situation for a
lover! I was a mere stripling, and she played with my passion; for
girls soon grow more adroit and knowing in these than your awkward
youngsters. What agonies had I to suffer. Every time that she danced in
front of the booth and made such liberal displays of her charms, I was
in torment. To complete my misery, I had a real rival in Harlequin; an
active, vigorous, knowing varlet of six-and-twenty. What had a raw,
inexperienced youngster like me to hope from such a competition?
I had still, however, some advantages in my favor. In spite of my
change of life, I retained that indescribable something which always
distinguishes the gentleman; that something which dwells in a man's air
and deportment, and not in his clothes; and which it is as difficult
for a gentleman to put off as for a vulgar fellow to put on. The
company generally felt it, and used to call me little gentleman Jack.
The girl felt it too; and in spite of her predilection for my powerful
rival, she liked to flirt with me. This only aggravated my troubles, by
increasing my passion, and awakening the jealousy of her parti-colored
lover.
Alas! think what I suffered, at being obliged to keep up an ineffectual
chase after my Columbine through whole pantomimes; to see her carried
off in the vigorous arms of the happy Harlequin; and to be obliged,
instead of snatching her from him, to tumble sprawling with Pantaloon
and the clown; and bear the infernal and degrading thwacks of my
rival's weapon of lath; which, may heaven confound him!
