Jane Austen's Mansfield Park: Abridged

by Emma Laybourn

Fanny seemed nearer being right than Edmund had supposed. Finding a play that would suit everybody proved to be no trifle; and the carpenter had taken his measurements, and, with an enlargement of plan, was already at work, while a play was still to seek.

  Other preparations were in hand. An enormous roll of green baize had arrived from Northampton, and had been cut out by Mrs. Norris (with a saving by her good management of full three-quarters of a yard), and was being made into a curtain, and still the play was wanting. Edmund began almost to hope that none might ever be found.

  There were, in fact, so many people to be pleased, so many best characters required, and, above all, such a need that the play should be at once both tragedy and comedy, that there did seem little chance of a decision.

  On the tragic side were the Miss Bertrams, Henry Crawford, and Mr. Yates; on the comic, Tom Bertram, not quite alone, because Mary Crawford's wishes, though politely kept back, inclined the same way. They wanted a piece containing very few characters, but every character first-rate, and three principal women.

  All the best plays were run over in vain. Neither Hamlet, nor Macbeth, nor Othello presented anything that could satisfy even the tragedians; and The Rivals, The School for Scandal, and a long et cetera, were dismissed. No piece could be proposed that did not supply a difficulty. "Oh no, that will never do! Let us have no ranting tragedies. Too many characters. Not a tolerable woman's part in the play. Anything but that, my dear Tom."

  Fanny looked on, amused, and wondering how it would end. She could have wished that something might be acted, for she had never seen a play, but everything of higher consequence was against it.

  "This will never do," said Tom Bertram at last. "We are wasting time abominably. Something must be fixed on. No matter what, so that something is chosen. A few characters too many must not frighten us. We must double them. From this moment I make no difficulties. I take any part you choose to give me, so as it be comic. I condition for nothing more."

  For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law, trying unsuccessfully to persuade the others that there were some fine tragic parts in it.

  The pause which followed this fruitless effort was ended when Tom, taking up a volume from the table, suddenly exclaimed—"Lovers' Vows! Why should not Lovers' Vows do for us as well as for the Ravenshaws? What say you? Here are two capital tragic parts for Yates and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me, if nobody else wants it. And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody. It is only Count Cassel and Anhalt."

  The suggestion was welcome. Everybody was growing weary of indecision. Mr. Yates was particularly pleased: he had been longing to do the Baron at Ecclesford, had grudged every rant of Lord Ravenshaw's, and been forced to re-rant it all in his own room. With the advantage of knowing half the scenes by heart already, he now offered his services for the part. Then, remembering that there was some very good ranting-ground in Frederick, he professed an equal willingness for that.

  Henry Crawford was ready to take either. Miss Bertram, feeling the interest of an Agatha in the question, decided it by observing to Mr. Yates that his height seemed to fit him peculiarly for the Baron. She was acknowledged to be quite right, and was certain of the proper Frederick. Three of the characters were now cast, besides Mr. Rushworth, who was answered for by Maria as willing to do anything; when Julia, meaning, like her sister, to be Agatha, began to be scrupulous on Miss Crawford's account.

  "Here are not women enough," said she. "Amelia and Agatha may do for Maria and me, but here is nothing for your sister, Mr. Crawford."

  Mr. Crawford desired that might not be thought of: his sister wished only to be useful. But Tom Bertram asserted the part of Amelia to be the property of Miss Crawford. "It falls as naturally to her," said he, "as Agatha does to one or other of my sisters. It can be no sacrifice on their side, for it is highly comic."

  A short silence followed. Each sister looked anxious; for each felt the best claim to Agatha, and was hoping to have it pressed on her by the rest. Henry Crawford, who meanwhile had taken up the play, and with seeming carelessness was turning over the first act, settled the business.

  "I must entreat Miss Julia Bertram," said he, "not to engage in the part of Agatha, or it will be the ruin of all my solemnity. Indeed you must not" (turning to her). "I could not stand your countenance dressed up in woe. The many laughs we have had together would infallibly come across me, and Frederick would be obliged to run away."

  Pleasantly, courteously, it was spoken; but the manner was lost to Julia's feelings. She saw a glance at Maria which confirmed the injury to herself: it was a trick; she was slighted, Maria was preferred; the smile of triumph which Maria was trying to suppress showed how well it was understood; and before Julia could command herself enough to speak, her brother said, "Oh yes! Maria must be Agatha. Though Julia fancies she prefers tragedy, I would not trust her in it. There is nothing of tragedy about her. She had better do the old countrywoman: the Cottager's wife; you had, indeed, Julia."

  "Cottager's wife!" cried Mr. Yates. "What are you talking of? The most trivial, paltry part. Your sister do that! It is an insult to propose it. At Ecclesford the governess was to have done it. A little more justice, Mr. Manager, if you please."

  "Why, I mean no disparagement to Julia. We cannot have two Agathas, and we must have one Cottager's wife. If the part is trifling she will have credit in making something of it."

  "We must not let her good-nature be imposed on,” said Henry Crawford. “We must not allow her to accept the part. Her talents will be wanted in Amelia. Amelia is a character more difficult to act well than even Agatha. I consider Amelia is the most difficult character in the whole piece. It requires great powers to give her playfulness and simplicity without extravagance. I have seen good actresses fail in the part. It requires a gentlewoman—a Julia Bertram. You will undertake it, I hope?" turning to her with a look of anxious entreaty, which softened her a little; but while she hesitated, her brother again interposed.

  "No, no, Julia must not be Amelia. She is too tall and robust. Amelia should be a small, light, girlish, skipping figure. It is fit for Miss Crawford, and Miss Crawford only."

  Without attending to this, Henry Crawford continued his supplication. "You must oblige us," said he. "When you have studied the character, I am sure you will feel it will suit you. Tragedy may be your choice, but it will certainly appear that comedy chooses you. You will be to visit me in prison with a basket of provisions; you will not refuse to visit me in prison? I think I see you coming in with your basket."

  Julia wavered; but was he only trying to pacify her, and make her overlook the previous affront? She distrusted him. He was, perhaps, at treacherous play with her. She looked suspiciously at her sister; Maria's face was to decide it: if she were vexed and alarmed—but Maria looked all serenity and satisfaction. With hasty indignation, therefore, she said to him, "You do not seem afraid of not keeping your countenance when I come in with a basket of provisions—though one might have supposed—but it is only as Agatha that I was to be so overpowering!" She stopped—Henry Crawford looked rather foolish. Tom Bertram began again—

  "Miss Crawford must be Amelia. She will be an excellent Amelia."

  "Do not be afraid of my wanting the character," cried Julia, with angry quickness: "I am not to be Agatha, and I will do nothing else; and as to Amelia, I quite detest her. An odious, little, pert, unnatural girl. I have always protested against comedy, and this is comedy in its worst form." So saying, she walked hastily out of the room, exciting small compassion in any except Fanny, who pitied her jealousy.

  A short silence followed; but her brother soon returned to business, and was eagerly looking over the play to ascertain what scenery would be necessary—while Maria and Henry Crawford conversed together in an under-voice. "I would give up the part to Julia most willingly," said Maria, "but though I shall probably do it very ill, I feel persuaded she would do it worse."

  Tom Bertram and Mr. Yates walked off to
consult in the room now beginning to be called the Theatre; Miss Bertram resolved to go down to the Parsonage with the offer of Amelia to Miss Crawford; and Fanny remained alone.

  She took up the volume which had been left on the table, and begin to read the play. Her curiosity was awake, and she ran through it with an eagerness which was suspended only by astonishment that it could be proposed and accepted in a private theatre! Agatha and Amelia appeared to be so totally improper—the situation of one, and the language of the other, so unfit for any modest woman, that she could hardly suppose her cousins could be aware of what they were engaging in. She longed to have them roused as soon as possible by the remonstrance which Edmund would certainly make.

  CHAPTER 15