CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD
He sets us All Right
I HAVE thus far quite inadvertently omitted to mention one of theprominent virtues of Reverend Finch. He was an accomplished master ofthat particular form of human persecution which is called reading aloud;and he inflicted his accomplishment on his family circle at everyavailable opportunity. Of what we suffered on these occasions, I shallsay nothing. Let it be enough to mention that the rector thoroughlyenjoyed the pleasure of hearing his own magnificent voice.
There was no escaping Mr. Finch when the rage for "reading" seized onhim. Now on one pretense, and now on another, he descended on usunfortunate women, book in hand; seated us at one end of the room; placedhimself at the other; opened his dreadful mouth; and fired words at us,like shots at a target, by the hour together. Sometimes he gave uspoetical readings from Shakespeare or Milton; and sometimes Parliamentaryspeeches by Burke or Sheridan. Read what he might, he made such a noiseand such a fuss over it; he put his own individuality so prominently inthe foremost place, and he kept the poets or the orators whom he wassupposed to be interpreting so far in the back ground, that they lostevery trace of character of their own, and became one and all perfectlyintolerable reflections of Mr. Finch. I date my first unhappy doubts ofthe supreme excellence of Shakespeare's poetry from the rector'sreadings; and I attribute to the same exasperating cause my implacablehostility (on every question of the time) to the policy of Mr. Burke. Onthe evening when Nugent Dubourg was expected at Browndown--and when weparticularly wanted to be left alone to dress ourselves, and to gossip byanticipation about the expected visitor--Mr. Finch was seized with one ofhis periodical rages for firing off words at his family, after tea. Heselected _Hamlet_ as the medium for exhibiting his voice, on thisoccasion; and he declared, as the principal motive for taking hiselocutionary exercise, that the object he especially had in view was thebenefit of poor Me!
"My good creature, I accidentally heard you reading to Lucilla, the otherday. It was very nice, as far as it went--very nice indeed. But you willallow me--as a person, Madame Pratolungo, possessing considerablepractice in the art of reading aloud--to observe that you might bebenefited by a hint or two. I will give you a few ideas. (Mrs. Finch! Ipropose giving Madame Pratolungo a few ideas.) Pay particular attention,if you please, to the Pauses, and to the management of the Voice at theend of the lines. Lucilla, my child, you are interested in this. Theperfecting of Madame Pratolungo is a matter of considerable importance to_you._ Don't go away."
Lucilla and I happened, on that evening, to be guests at the rectorytable. It was one of the regular occasions on which we left our own sideof the house, and joined the family at (what Mr. Finch called) "thepastor's evening meal." He had got his wife; he had got his eldestdaughter; he had got your humble servant. A horrid smile of enjoymentoverspread the reverend gentleman's face, as he surveyed us from theopposite end of the room, and opened his vocal fire on his audience ofthree.
"_Hamlet:_ Act the First; Scene the First. Elsinore. A Platform beforethe Castle. Francisco on his post" (Mr. Finch). "Enter to him Bernardo"(Mr. Finch). "Who's there?" "Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself."(Mrs. Finch unfolds herself--she suckles the baby, and tries to look asif she was having an intellectual treat.) "Francisco and Bernardoconverse in bass--Boom-boom-boom. Enter Horatio and Marcellus" (Mr. Finchand Mr. Finch.) "Stand! Who's there?" "Friends to this ground." "Andliegemen to the Dane." (Madame Pratolungo begins to feel the elocutionaryexposition of Shakespeare, where she always feels it, in her legs. Shetries to sit still on her chair. Useless! She is suffering under themalady known to her by bitter experience of Mr. Finch, as theHamlet-Fidgets.) Bernardo and Franciso, Horatio and Marcellus,converse--Boom-boom-boom. "Enter Ghost of Hamlet's Father." Mr. Finchmakes an awful pause. In the supernatural silence, we can hear the babysucking. Mrs. Finch enjoys her intellectual treat. Madame Pratolungofidgets. Lucilla catches the infection, and fidgets too. Marcellus-Finchgoes on. "Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio." Bernardo-Finch backshim: "Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio." Lucilla-Finchinserts herself in the dialogue: "Papa, I am very sorry; I have had anervous headache all day; please excuse me if I take a turn in thegarden." The rector makes another awful pause, and glares at hisdaughter. (Exit Lucilla.) Horatio looks at the Ghost, and takes up thedialogue: "Most like; it harrows me "--Boom-boom-boom. The baby issatiated. Mrs. Finch wants her handkerchief. Madame Pratolungo seizes theopportunity of moving her distracted legs, and finds the handkerchief.Mr. Finch pauses--glares---goes on again--reaches the second scene."Enter the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius,and Lords Attendant." All Mr. Finch! oh, my legs! my legs! all Mr. Finch,and Boom-boom-boom. Third scene. "Enter Laertes and Ophelia." (BothRectors of Dimchurch; both with deep bass voices; both about five feethigh, pitted with the small-pox, and adorned round the neck with dingywhite cravats.) Mr. Finch goes on and on and on. Mrs. Finch and the babysimultaneously close their eyes in slumber. Madame Pratolungo sufferssuch tortures of restlessness in her lower limbs, that she longs for askilled surgeon to take out his knife and deliver her from her own legs.Mr. Finch advances in deeper and deeper bass, in keener and keenerenjoyment, to the Fourth Scene. ("Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.")Mercy! what do I hear? Is relief approaching to us from the worldoutside? Are there footsteps in the hall? Yes! Mrs. Finch opens her eyes;Mrs. Finch hears the footsteps, and rejoices in them as I do. ReverendHamlet hears nothing but his own voice. He begins the scene: "The airbites shrewdly. It is very cold." The door opens. The rector feels a gustof air, dramatically appropriate, just at the right moment. He looksround. If it is a servant, let that domestic person tremble! No--not aservant. Guests--heavens be praised, guests. Welcome, gentlemen--welcome!No more Hamlet, tonight, thanks to You. Enter two Characters who must beinstantly attended to:--Mr. Oscar Dubourg; introducing his twin-brotherfrom America, Mr. Nugent Dubourg.
Poor Miss Finch Page 29