It is late and I really should be in bed, but the truth of it is I am just
not tired. Ridiculous really given the long drive into the city and back,
not to mention the time spent in the theatre, but the excitement of the
evening seems to have affected me more than I had thought and I know only
too well that sleep would be nigh on impossible if I were to attempt it
now. I have no plans for tomorrow though, so it will not matter if I sleep
late. Besides, it gives me the opportunity to write down the evening's
events whilst they are still fresh in my memory.
Firstly, Cymon. The theatre was the most crowded I ever remember having seen it, and I do not think I exaggerate in saying that not one more person could have been squeezed inside without serious injury being caused to those concerned. We arrived at our box in plenty of time, something I was glad of, as I do not like arriving late to places as so many people seem to these days. It may be considered fashionable to attend the theatre in order to be seen, but I for one do not see the point in going at all if not to see the performance. If I wanted to watch foolish young men strut around under the erroneous impression that every woman or girl in the place wants nothing more than to be swept of their feet by them, then I would simply attend one of Grace Tapling's dinner parties. I would have less distance to travel for one thing and there would of course be the added benefit of being able to leave without drawing the level of attention to oneself that is unavoidable in a crowded place such as a theatre. Let others parade themselves like proud peacocks if they wish, but I can honestly say I paid infinitely more attention to what was taking place on stage than to what was going on around it.
The piece is not a serious one, something for which I was glad after the less than entertaining past few days. Mr. Kelly took the title role, and although my knowledge of previous actors in the part is limited, I would have to say that in my humble opinion, he performed very well. What stood out above all though and deserves special attention in this account was the magnificence of the scenery. I had heard that no expense was spared for this revival, and that certainly appears to have been the case. Two horses were actually used to draw the car in which Sylvia and Cymon were carried, and the procession of knights was just breathtaking, the costumes the like of which I have never seen before. The man who designed such finery is surely a genius at the very least, and must have been paid handsomely for his pains. All in all it was a wonderful performance, although I am not sure that Charles would agree as he seemed to be more interested in trying to procure the favour of holding my fan than watching events on stage, something which I made sure not to allow. Accepting an invitation to the theatre is one thing, allowing him to think he has any right to other such liberties, however small, is another thing all together. Therefore, due to one thing or another he was not in the best of moods by the time it came for us to leave, something which I fear was rather aggravated by an incident that occurred on our way out of the theatre.
It took us a good while to make our way towards the exit, more than once someone or other managed to tread on my foot or prod me in the back with a cane, but eventually we found ourselves at the door. Just as I was stepping out into the street though I was pushed rather violently from behind, and would have fallen if it had not been for someone quickly steadying me with a hand on my elbow. As soon as I had regained my footing I span round, fully intending to give whoever it was a good talking to as to how one should behave in such a place as the theatre. I do not usually react so badly, but I admit to being rather shaken by the experience, and my mood was not improved when what was probably the same two youths who had pushed me in the first place shoved me again in order to force their way outside, leaving their unfortunate companion to meet the full extent of my wrath alone.
"This really is most unacceptable." I began, shaking his hand from my arm as I spoke. The laughing blue eyes that met mine as I looked up though cut me short, and I found myself face to face not, as I had at first thought, some ragamuffin off the street, but a youth who was clearly of some breeding and refinement.
"You are right, please forgive the conduct of myself and my associates, I most humbly beg your pardon," he informed me, clearly trying to appear serious, although unable to quite hide the merriment and high spirits that had caused the situation in the first place. It is not in my nature to be irritable and I could not stay cross, especially when he bowed low enough to almost touch the ground in an effort to show his sincerity, and laughing, I bid him stand before we attracted the gaze of any more amused onlookers.
"My pardon is granted, Mr.?" I paused, realising suddenly that I did not even know to whom I was talking.
"Kennedy. Archie Kennedy." He informed me, holding his hand out as he spoke. "And may I be so bold as to ask whom I am addressing?"
"Lady Virginia-Rosaline Dewhurst," A cool voice from beside me supplied suddenly, and I started, having forgotten totally my companion in the events of the past few moments. "And I would call it very bold indeed to ask anything of the lady you have just treated with such disrespect. Really, this is a theatre, not a drinking house!" His voice was loud, his tone far from friendly, and I felt myself colour, embarrassed not only by the looks we were receiving, but also at what the young man in front of me must be thinking of us.
"Charles." I admonished quickly before glancing quickly at my new acquaintance, hoping he had not taken offence. He did not seem to though, barely acknowledging Charles' words with a slight inclination of his head before turning his attention back to me. "It seems that your forgiveness is all I may dare ask for then, my Lady, and as you have granted it, I can surely consider myself blessed. But." he paused suddenly, a mischievous grin playing at the edges of his mouth, "tell me, did not I dance with you in Brabant once?" "You must be mistaken Sir, Virginia has never set foot outside of England, have you Ginny?" Charles piped up immediately, a look of confusion on his face. But I laughed, recognising the line from Love's Labours Lost, as addressed to the character who was partly my namesake. The next few minutes were spent happily trading the accompanying lines and ended with much merriment on both our parts. A young man with both intelligence and a sense of humour - a refreshing change from the company I am usually forced to endure. I would have liked to speak with him further and to ask what he had thought of the evening's performance, he seemed to be someone who would have an opinion worth listening to, and I could not help but be slightly curious. However, it was not to be, as his companions, clearly tired of waiting for him, chose that moment to speak up from across the street where they had fled to safety from my earlier angry outburst. "Archie. if you don't hurry up, we'll be late!" the taller of the two called, tipping his hat to me as he added, "though I can't say I'd blame you for choosing her company over ours - you've picked a right stunner there!" I heard Charles' spluttering with indignation beside me and tried my hardest to look offended, but had to settle in the end for laughing instead, especially at the look of amused bashfulness on Mr. Kennedy's face as he grinned at me. "It seems I must leave you Fair Lady. Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I am afraid it is a necessary evil. I bid you adieu." And with that he took my hand in his, holding it to his lips for what Charles later pointed out a good moment longer than strictly necessary, before nodding to him and hurrying to meet his waiting friends. I have to confess that my cheeks felt unnaturally warm at that moment, but the weather had taken a turn for the better, so it is likely that had something to do with it. Charles was in a foul mood for the journey home, making pointed comments about social upstarts who did not know their position and should be taught a lesson, but I hardly paid him a moment's attention. I think I must have dozed off slightly for the main part of the drive, as it seemed to take a considerably shorter amount of time than on the outward trip, and before I knew it we were pulling up outside the house and the night was over. After bidding a quick goodnight to Charles and evading mother's questions by pleading tiredness, I came up to my room where I have been sitting for a good two hours now, unable to sleep a wink. I feel though that I have cleared my mind somewhat by going over the events of the evening, and shall once more attempt to coax myself into sleep. Staying awake late is one thing, depriving oneself of sleep for a whole night and looking a fright in the morning is quite another, and I really do not feel like having a quarrel with mother over something so trivial. I will have trouble soon enough as it is with her questions about our encounter with Mr. Kennedy - I do not doubt for a minute that Charles, in a fit of pique, will tell her everything. Anyway, I will deal with that when the time comes. Enough now, to sleep.
Firstly, Cymon. The theatre was the most crowded I ever remember having seen it, and I do not think I exaggerate in saying that not one more person could have been squeezed inside without serious injury being caused to those concerned. We arrived at our box in plenty of time, something I was glad of, as I do not like arriving late to places as so many people seem to these days. It may be considered fashionable to attend the theatre in order to be seen, but I for one do not see the point in going at all if not to see the performance. If I wanted to watch foolish young men strut around under the erroneous impression that every woman or girl in the place wants nothing more than to be swept of their feet by them, then I would simply attend one of Grace Tapling's dinner parties. I would have less distance to travel for one thing and there would of course be the added benefit of being able to leave without drawing the level of attention to oneself that is unavoidable in a crowded place such as a theatre. Let others parade themselves like proud peacocks if they wish, but I can honestly say I paid infinitely more attention to what was taking place on stage than to what was going on around it.
The piece is not a serious one, something for which I was glad after the less than entertaining past few days. Mr. Kelly took the title role, and although my knowledge of previous actors in the part is limited, I would have to say that in my humble opinion, he performed very well. What stood out above all though and deserves special attention in this account was the magnificence of the scenery. I had heard that no expense was spared for this revival, and that certainly appears to have been the case. Two horses were actually used to draw the car in which Sylvia and Cymon were carried, and the procession of knights was just breathtaking, the costumes the like of which I have never seen before. The man who designed such finery is surely a genius at the very least, and must have been paid handsomely for his pains. All in all it was a wonderful performance, although I am not sure that Charles would agree as he seemed to be more interested in trying to procure the favour of holding my fan than watching events on stage, something which I made sure not to allow. Accepting an invitation to the theatre is one thing, allowing him to think he has any right to other such liberties, however small, is another thing all together. Therefore, due to one thing or another he was not in the best of moods by the time it came for us to leave, something which I fear was rather aggravated by an incident that occurred on our way out of the theatre.
It took us a good while to make our way towards the exit, more than once someone or other managed to tread on my foot or prod me in the back with a cane, but eventually we found ourselves at the door. Just as I was stepping out into the street though I was pushed rather violently from behind, and would have fallen if it had not been for someone quickly steadying me with a hand on my elbow. As soon as I had regained my footing I span round, fully intending to give whoever it was a good talking to as to how one should behave in such a place as the theatre. I do not usually react so badly, but I admit to being rather shaken by the experience, and my mood was not improved when what was probably the same two youths who had pushed me in the first place shoved me again in order to force their way outside, leaving their unfortunate companion to meet the full extent of my wrath alone.
"This really is most unacceptable." I began, shaking his hand from my arm as I spoke. The laughing blue eyes that met mine as I looked up though cut me short, and I found myself face to face not, as I had at first thought, some ragamuffin off the street, but a youth who was clearly of some breeding and refinement.
"You are right, please forgive the conduct of myself and my associates, I most humbly beg your pardon," he informed me, clearly trying to appear serious, although unable to quite hide the merriment and high spirits that had caused the situation in the first place. It is not in my nature to be irritable and I could not stay cross, especially when he bowed low enough to almost touch the ground in an effort to show his sincerity, and laughing, I bid him stand before we attracted the gaze of any more amused onlookers.
"My pardon is granted, Mr.?" I paused, realising suddenly that I did not even know to whom I was talking.
"Kennedy. Archie Kennedy." He informed me, holding his hand out as he spoke. "And may I be so bold as to ask whom I am addressing?"
"Lady Virginia-Rosaline Dewhurst," A cool voice from beside me supplied suddenly, and I started, having forgotten totally my companion in the events of the past few moments. "And I would call it very bold indeed to ask anything of the lady you have just treated with such disrespect. Really, this is a theatre, not a drinking house!" His voice was loud, his tone far from friendly, and I felt myself colour, embarrassed not only by the looks we were receiving, but also at what the young man in front of me must be thinking of us.
"Charles." I admonished quickly before glancing quickly at my new acquaintance, hoping he had not taken offence. He did not seem to though, barely acknowledging Charles' words with a slight inclination of his head before turning his attention back to me. "It seems that your forgiveness is all I may dare ask for then, my Lady, and as you have granted it, I can surely consider myself blessed. But." he paused suddenly, a mischievous grin playing at the edges of his mouth, "tell me, did not I dance with you in Brabant once?" "You must be mistaken Sir, Virginia has never set foot outside of England, have you Ginny?" Charles piped up immediately, a look of confusion on his face. But I laughed, recognising the line from Love's Labours Lost, as addressed to the character who was partly my namesake. The next few minutes were spent happily trading the accompanying lines and ended with much merriment on both our parts. A young man with both intelligence and a sense of humour - a refreshing change from the company I am usually forced to endure. I would have liked to speak with him further and to ask what he had thought of the evening's performance, he seemed to be someone who would have an opinion worth listening to, and I could not help but be slightly curious. However, it was not to be, as his companions, clearly tired of waiting for him, chose that moment to speak up from across the street where they had fled to safety from my earlier angry outburst. "Archie. if you don't hurry up, we'll be late!" the taller of the two called, tipping his hat to me as he added, "though I can't say I'd blame you for choosing her company over ours - you've picked a right stunner there!" I heard Charles' spluttering with indignation beside me and tried my hardest to look offended, but had to settle in the end for laughing instead, especially at the look of amused bashfulness on Mr. Kennedy's face as he grinned at me. "It seems I must leave you Fair Lady. Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I am afraid it is a necessary evil. I bid you adieu." And with that he took my hand in his, holding it to his lips for what Charles later pointed out a good moment longer than strictly necessary, before nodding to him and hurrying to meet his waiting friends. I have to confess that my cheeks felt unnaturally warm at that moment, but the weather had taken a turn for the better, so it is likely that had something to do with it. Charles was in a foul mood for the journey home, making pointed comments about social upstarts who did not know their position and should be taught a lesson, but I hardly paid him a moment's attention. I think I must have dozed off slightly for the main part of the drive, as it seemed to take a considerably shorter amount of time than on the outward trip, and before I knew it we were pulling up outside the house and the night was over. After bidding a quick goodnight to Charles and evading mother's questions by pleading tiredness, I came up to my room where I have been sitting for a good two hours now, unable to sleep a wink. I feel though that I have cleared my mind somewhat by going over the events of the evening, and shall once more attempt to coax myself into sleep. Staying awake late is one thing, depriving oneself of sleep for a whole night and looking a fright in the morning is quite another, and I really do not feel like having a quarrel with mother over something so trivial. I will have trouble soon enough as it is with her questions about our encounter with Mr. Kennedy - I do not doubt for a minute that Charles, in a fit of pique, will tell her everything. Anyway, I will deal with that when the time comes. Enough now, to sleep.