Voces Populi — At the Tudor Exhibition
IN THE CENTRAL HALL.
_The usual Jocose_ 'ARRY (_who has come here with_ 'ARRIET, _for no very obvious reason, as they neither of them know or care about any history but their own_).
Well, I s'pose as we _are_ 'ere, we'd better go in a buster for a book o' the words, eh?
(_To_ COMMISSIONAIRE.
) What are yer doin' them c'rect guides at, ole man?
A shillin'?
Not _me_!
'Ere, 'Arriet, we'll make it out for ourselves.
A YOUNG MAN (_who has dropped in for five minutes--"just to say he's been, don't you know"_).
'Jove--_my Aunt_!
Nip out before she spots me....
Stop, though, suppose she _has_ spotted me?
Never can tell with giglamps ...
better not risk it.
[_Is "spotted" while hesitating.
_ HIS AUNT.
I didn't recognise you till just this moment, John, my boy.
I
was just wishing I had some one to read out all the extracts in the Catalogue for me; now we can go round together.
[JOHN _affects a dutiful delight at this suggestion, and wonders mentally if he can get away in time to go to afternoon tea with those pretty Chesterton Girls_.
AN UNCLE (_who has taken_ MASTER TOMMY _out for the afternoon_).
This is the way to make your English History _real_ to you, my boy!
[TOMMY, _who had cherished hopes of Covent Garden Circus, privately thinks that English History is a sufficiently unpleasant reality as it is, and conceives a bitter prejudice against the entire Tudor Period on the spot_.
[Illustration: "WHAT ARE YOU DOIN' THEM C'RECT GUIDES AT, OLE MAN?
A
SHILLIN'?
NOT _me_!"
] THE INTELLIGENT PERSON.
Ha!
armour of the period, you see!
(_Feels bound to make an intelligent remark.
_) 'Stonishing how the whole art of war has been transformed since then, eh?
Now--to me--(_as if he was conscious of being singular in this respect_)--to _me_, all this is most interesting.
Coming as I do, fresh from Froude-- HIS COMPANION (_a Flippant Person_).
Don't speak so loud.
If they know you've come in here fresh, you'll get turned out!
PATRONISING PERSONS (_inspecting magnificent suit of russet and gilt armour_).
'Pon my word, no idea they turned out such good work in those times--very creditable to them, really.
BEFORE THE PORTRAITS.
THE UNCLE.
Now, Tommy, you remember what became of Katherine of Aragon, I'm sure?
No, no--tut--tut--_she_ wasn't executed!
I'm afraid you're getting rather rusty with these long holidays.
Remind me to speak to your mother about setting you a chapter or so of history to read every day when we get home, will you?
TOMMY (_to himself_).
It _is_ hard lines on a chap having a Sneak for an Uncle!
Catch me swotting to please _him_!
'ARRY.
There's old 'Enery the Eighth, you see--that's 'im right enough;
him as 'ad all those wives, and cut every one of their 'eds off!
'ARRIET (_admiringly_).
Ah, I knew we shouldn't want a Catalogue.
THE INT.
P.
Wonderfully Holbein's caught the character of the man--the--er--curious compound of obstinacy, violence, good-humour, sensuality, and--and so on.
No mistaking a Holbein--you can tell him at once by the extraordinary finish of all the accessories.
Now look at that girdle--isn't that Holbein all over?
FLIPPANT P.
Not quite all over, old fellow.
Catalogue says it's painted by Paris Bordone.
THE INT.
P.
Possibly--but it's Holbein's _manner_, and, looking at these portraits, you see at once how right Froude's estimate was of the King.
F.
P.
Does Froude say how he got that nasty one on the side of his nose?
A VISITOR.
Looks overfed, don't he?
SECOND V.
(_sympathetically_).
Oh, he fed himself very well; you can see that.
THE AUNT.
Wait a bit, John--don't read so fast.
I haven't made out the middle background yet.
And where's the figure of St. Michael rising above the gilt tent, lined with _fleurs-de-lis_ on a blue ground?
Would this be Guisnes, or Ardres, now?
Oh, Ardres on the right--so _that's_ Ardres--yes, yes; and now tell me what it says about the two gold fountains, and that dragon up in the sky.
[JOHN _calculates that, at this rate, he has a very poor chance of getting away before the Gallery closes_.
THE PATRONISING PERSONS.
'Um!
Holbein again, you see--very curious their ideas of painting in those days.
Ah, well, Art has made great progress since then--like everything else!
MISS FISHER.
So _that's_ the beautiful Queen Mary!
I wonder if it is really _true_ that people have got better-looking since those days?
[_Glances appealingly at_ PHLEGMATIC FIANCE.
HER PHLEGMATIC FIANCE.
I wonder.
MISS F.
You hardly ever see such small hands now, do you?
With those lovely long fingers, too!
THE PHL.
F.
No, never.
MISS F.
Perhaps people in some other century will wonder how anybody ever saw anything to admire in _us_?
THE PHL.
F.
Shouldn't be surprised.
[MISS F.
_does wish secretly that_ CHARLES _had more conversation_.
THE AUNT.
John, just find out who No. 222 is.
JOHN (_sulkily_).
Sir George Penruddocke, Knight.
HIS AUNT (_with enthusiasm_).
Of course--_how_ interesting this is, isn't it?
--seeing all these celebrated persons exactly as they were in life!
Now read who he _was_, John, please.
THE INT.
PERSON.
Froude tells a curious incident about-- FLIPPANT P.
I tell you what it is, old chap, if you read so much history, you'll end by _believing_ it!
THE INT.
P.
(_pausing before the Shakspeare portraits_).
"He was not for an age, but for all time."
THE FL.
P.
I suppose that's why they've painted none of them alike.
A PERSON WITH A TALENT FOR COMPARISON.
Mary, come here a moment.
Do look at this--"Elizabeth, Lady Hoby"--did you _ever_ see such a likeness?
MARY.
Well, dear, I don't quite-- THE PERSON WITH, &C.
It's her living image!
Do you mean to say you really don't recognise it?
--Why, _Cook_, of course!
MARY.
Ah!
(_apologetically_)--but I've never seen her dressed to go _out_, you know.
THE UNCLE.
"No. 13, Sir Rowland Hill, Lord Mayor, died 1561"-- TOMMY (_anxious to escape the threatened chapters if possible_).
I know about _him_, Uncle, he invented postage stamps!
OVER THE CASES.
FIRST PATRONISING P.
"A Tooth of Queen Katherine Parr."
Dear me!
very quaint.
SECOND P.
P.
(_tolerantly_).
And not at all a bad tooth, either.
'ARRIET (_comes to a case containing a hat labelled as formerly belonging to Henry the Eighth_).
'Arry, look 'ere; fancy a king going about in a thing like that--pink with a green feather!
Why, I wouldn't be seen in it myself!
'ARRY.
Ah, but that was ole 'Enery all over, that was; _he_ wasn't one for show.
He liked a quiet, unassumin' style of 'at, he did.
"None of yer loud pot 'ats for Me!"
he'd tell the Royal 'atters; "find me a tile as won't attract people's notice, or you won't want a tile yerselves in another minute!"
An' you may take yer oath they served him pretty _sharp_, too!
'ARRIET (_giggling_).
It's a pity they didn't ask you to write their Catalogue for 'em.
THE AUNT.
John, you're not really _looking_ at that needlework--it's Queen Elizabeth's own work, John.
Only look how wonderfully fine the stitches are.
Ah, she was a truly _great_ woman!
I could spend hours over this case alone.
What, closing are they, _already_?
We must have another day at this together, John--just you and I. JOHN.
Yes, Aunt.
And now--(_thinks there is just time to call on the_ Chestertons, _if he goes soon_)--can I get you a cab, or put you into a 'bus or anything?
HIS AUNT.
Not just yet; you must take me somewhere where I can get a bun and a cup of tea first, and then we can go over the Catalogue together, and mark all the things we _missed_, you know.
[JOHN _resigns himself to the inevitable rather than offend his wealthy relative_; _the_ INTELLIGENT PERSON _comes out, saying he has had "an intellectual treat" and intends to "run through Froude again" that evening_.
'ARRY _and_ 'ARRIET, _depart to the "Ocean Wave" at Hengler's. Gallery gradually clears as Scene closes in.
_
