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Updated: May 9, 2025
That mattered little. The external impression, the grand manner, was everything. She was not lame, though she generally leaned on somebody's arm or a stick. It was rather a pretty stick. She would have worm a pomander in her hair, or on a chatelaine, if anybody had told her what a pomander was. As her friends were unable to enlighten her Mr.
One advantage he had over both Cibber and Pomander, a fair stock of classical learning; on this he now drew. "Other actors and actresses," said he, "are monotonous in voice, monotonous in action, but Mrs. Woffington's delivery has the compass and variety of nature, and her movements are free from the stale uniformity that distinguishes artifice from art.
"We call him, for brevity, Brute." Vane drew a long breath. "Your neighbor is Lord Foppington; a butterfly of some standing, and a little gouty." "Sir Charles Pomander." "Oh," cried Mrs. Vane. "It is the good gentleman who helped us out of the slough, near Huntingdon. Ernest, if it had not been for this gentleman, I should not have had the pleasure of being here now."
Woffington, however, was not to be persuaded, she excused herself on the score of a duty which she said she had to perform, and whispering as she passed Pomander, "Keep your own counsel," she went out rather precipitately. Vane looked slightly disappointed.
Vane turned instantly round upon him, and, looking him haughtily in the face, said: "Sir Charles Pomander, the settled malignity with which you pursue that lady is unmanly and offensive to me, who love her. Let our acquaintance cease here, if you please, or let her be sacred from your venomous tongue."
Woffington saw him, and cast on him a look of ineffable scorn; and then she held the whole company fluttering a long while. At length: "The Honorable Mrs. Quickly, madam," said she, indicating Mrs. Clive. This turn took them all by surprise. Pomander bit his lip. "Sir John Brute " "Falstaff," cried Quin; "hang it." "Sir John Brute Falstaff," resumed Mrs. Woffington.
Here, Vanna, Tonina, to bed with him; he may sleep with you in my dressing-closet, Tonina. Go with her, child, go; but for God's sake wake him if he snores. I'm too ill to have my rest disturbed." And she lifted a pomander to her nostrils. The next few days dwelt in Odo's memory as a blur of strange sights and sounds.
"That you were so unkind to me about." "I, unkind to you? what a brute I must be!" "My meaning is, you justly rebuked me, only you should not tell an actress she has no heart that is always understood. Well, Sir Charles Pomander said she married a third in two months!" "And did she?" "No, it was in six weeks; that man never tells the truth; and since then she has married a fourth."
We must, however, leave him for a few minutes. SIR CHARLES POMANDER was detained in the country much longer than he expected. He was rewarded by a little adventure. As he cantered up to London with two servants and a post-boy, all riding on horses ordered in relays beforehand, he came up with an antediluvian coach, stuck fast by the road-side.
Sir Charles Pomander joined them, and found Mr. Colander, the head domestic of the London establishment, cutting with a pair of scissors every flower Mrs. Woffington fancied, that lady having a passion for flowers. Colander, during his temporary absence from the interior, had appointed James Burdock to keep the house, and receive the two remaining guests, should they arrive.
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