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Table of Contents
NIGHTMARE ABBEY CONTENTS
NIGHTMARE ABBEY
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
FATOUT
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
FATOUT
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
CHAPTER VI
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
MR FLOSKY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR HILARY
MR FLOSKY
MR TOOBAD
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MR HILARY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
CHAPTER VII
MR ASTERIAS
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR ASTERIAS
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
MR ASTERIAS
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
MR HILARY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
FATOUT
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
FATOUT
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
FATOUT
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
FATOUT
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR ASTERIAS
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR ASTERIAS
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MR HILARY
MARIONETTA
CHAPTER VIII
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
MARIONETTA
MR FLOSKY
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
MR GLOWRY
MR GLOWRY
MR CYPRESS
MR GLOWRY
SCYTHROP
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
SCYTHROP
MR CYPRESS
SCYTHROP
MR FLOSKY
SCYTHROP
MR CYPRESS
MR FLOSKY
MR HILARY
MR TOOBAD
MR FLOSKY
MR TOOBAD
MR CYPRESS
MR HILARY
MR CYPRESS
MR HILARY
MR CYPRESS
MR FLOSKY
MR HILARY
MR TOOBAD
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
SCYTHROP
MR CYPRESS
MR GLOWRY
MR HILARY
MR GLOWRY
MR HILARY
MR GLOWRY
ALL
MR GLOWRY
MR HILARY
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
ME HILARY
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
MR HILARY AND THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
CHAPTER XII
MR FLOSKY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
MR TOOBAD
MR FLOSKY
MR HILARY
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
MR FLOSKY
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
MR FLOSKY
MR HILARY
MR FLOSKY
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
MR FLOSKY
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CELINDA FLOSKY
MARIONETTA LISTLESS
THE END
NOTES
NIGHTMARE ABBEY
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
MAID MARIAN
MAID MARIAN
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
Headlong Hall
I.--The Philosophers
II.--The Squire and his Guests
III.--The Tower and the Skull
IV.--The Proposals
Nightmare Abbey
I.--Mr. Glowry and His Son
II.--Marionetta
III.--Celinda
IV.--Scythrop's Fate
CROTCHET CASTLE
HEADLONG HALL
THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK
CONTENTS
PREFACE
Headlong Hall
–—*—–
CHAPTER I
THE MAIL
CHAPTER II
THE SQUIRE—THE BREAKFAST
CHAPTER III
THE ARRIVALS
CHAPTER IV
THE GROUNDS
CHAPTER V THE DINNER
SONG
GLEE
GRAND CHORUS
CHAPTER VI THE EVENING
LOVE AND OPPORTUNITY
CHAPTER VII
THE WALK
CHAPTER VIII
THE TOWER
CHAPTER IX
THE SEXTON
CHAPTER X
THE SKULL
CHAPTER XI
THE ANNIVERSARY
CHAPTER XII
THE LECTURE
CHAPTER XIII THE BALL
TERZETTO[13.2]
BALLAD
CHORUS
CHAPTER XIV
THE PROPOSALS
CHAPTER XV
THE CONCLUSION
NOTES
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
GRYLL GRANGE
INTRODUCTION
DETAILED CONTENTS
GRYLL GRANGE CHAPTER I
MISNOMERS
CHAPTER II
THE SQUIRE AND HIS NIECE
CHAPTER III
THE DUKE'S FOLLY
CHAPTER IV
THE FOREST—A SOLILOQUY ON HAIR
CHAPTER V
THE SEVEN SISTERS
CHAPTER VI
THE RUSTIC LOVER
CHAPTER VII
THE VICAR AND HIS WIFE—FAMILIES OF LOVE—THE NEWSPAPER
CHAPTER VIII
PANTOPRAGMATICS
CHAPTER IX
SAINT CATHARINE
CHAPTER X
THE THUNDERSTORM
CHAPTER XI
ELECTRICAL SCIENCE—THE DEATH OF PHILEMON
CHAPTER XII
THE FOREST DELL—THE POWER OF LOVE—THE LOTTERY OF MARRIAGE
CHAPTER XIII
LORD CURRYFIN—SIBERIAN DINNERS—SOCIAL MONOTONY
CHAPTER XIV
MUSIC AND PAINTING—JACK OF DOVER
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
HORSE-TAMING—LOVE IN DILEMMA—INJUNCTIONS—SONOROUS VASES
CHAPTER XVIII
LECTURES—THE POWER OF PUBLIC OPINION—A NEW ORDER OF CHIVALRY
CHAPTER XIX
A SYMPOSIUM—TRANSATLANTIC TENDENCIES—AFTER-DINNER LECTURES—EDUCATION
CHAPTER XX
ALGERNON AND MORGANA—OPPORTUNITY AND REPENTANCE—THE FOREST IN WINTER
CHAPTER XXI
SKATING—PAS DE DEUX ON THE ICE—CONGENIALITY—FLINTS AMONG BONES
CHAPTER XXII
THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES—A SOLILOQUY ON CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER XXIII
THE TWO QUADRILLES—POPE'S OMBRE—POETICAL TRUTH TO NATURE—CLEOPATRA
CHAPTER XXIV
PROGRESS OF SYMPATHY—LOVE'S INJUNCTIONS—ORLANDO INNAMORATO
CHAPTER XXV
HARRY AND DOROTHY
CHAPTER XXVI.
DOUBTS AND QUESTIONS
CHAPTER XXVII
LOVE IN MEMORY
CHAPTER XXVIII
ARISTOPHANES IN LONDON
CHAPTER XXIX
THE BALD VENUS—INEZ DE CASTRO—THE UNITY OF LOVE
CHAPTER XXX
A CAPTIVE KNIGHT—RICHARD AND ALICE
CHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXII
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE CONQUEST OF THEBES
CHAPTER XXXIV
CHAPTER XXXV
REJECTED SUITORS—CONCLUSION
By
Thomas Love Peacock
CONTENTS
NIGHTMARE ABBEY
NOTES TO Nightmare Abbey
NIGHTMARE ABBEY:
BY
THE AUTHOR OF HEADLONG HALL.
* * * * *
There's a dark lantern of the spirit,
Which none see by but those who bear it,
That makes them in the dark see visions
And hag themselves with apparitions,
Find racks for their own minds, and vaunt
Of their own misery and want.
BUTLER.
* * * * *
LONDON:
1818.
MATTHEW. Oh! it's your only fine humour, sir. Your true melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit, sir. I am melancholy myself, divers times, sir; and then do I no more but take pen and paper presently, and overflow you half a score or a dozen of sonnets at a sitting.
STEPHEN. Truly, sir, and I love such things out of measure.
MATTHEW. Why, I pray you, sir, make use of my study: it's at your service.
STEPHEN. I thank you, sir, I shall be bold, I warrant you. Have you a stool there, to be melancholy upon?
BEN JONSON, Every Man in his Humour, Act 3, Sc. I
Ay esleu gazouiller et siffler oye, comme dit le commun proverbe, entre les cygnes, plutoust que d'estre entre tant de gentils poëtes et faconds orateurs mut du tout estimé.
RABELAIS, Prol. L. 5
* * * * *
CHAPTER I
Nightmare Abbey, a venerable family-mansion, in a highly picturesque state of semi-dilapidation, pleasantly situated on a strip of dry land between the sea and the fens, at the verge of the county of Lincoln, had the honour to be the seat of Christopher Glowry, Esquire. This gentleman was naturally of an atrabilarious temperament, and much troubled with those phantoms of indigestion which are commonly called blue devils. He had been deceived in an early friendship: he had been crossed in love; and had offered his hand, from pique, to a lady, who accepted it from interest, and who, in so doing, violently tore asunder the bonds of a tried and youthful attachment. Her vanity was gratified by being the mistress of a very extensive, if not very lively, establishment; but all the springs of her sympathies were frozen. Riches she possessed, but that which enriches them, the participation of affection, was wanting. All that they could purchase for her became indifferent to her, because that which they could not purchase, and which was more valuable than themselves, she had, for their sake, thrown away. She discovered, when it was too late, that she had mistaken the means for the end—that riches, rightly used, are instruments of happiness, but are not in themselves happiness. In this wilful blight of her affections, she found them valueless as means: they had been the end to which she had immolated all her affections, and were now the only end that remained to her. She did not confess this to herself as a principle of action, but it operated through the medium of unconscious self-deception, and terminated in inveterate avarice. She laid on external things the blame of her mind's internal disorder, and thus became by degrees an accomplished scold. She often went her daily rounds through a series of deserted apartments, every creature in the house vanishing at the creak of her shoe, much more at the sound of her voice, to which the nature of things affords no simile; for, as far as the voice of woman, when attuned by gentleness and love, transcends all other sounds in harmony, so far does it surpass all others in discord, when stretched into unnatural shrillness by anger and impatience.
Mr Glowry used to say that his house was no better than a spacious kennel, for every one in it led the life of a dog. Disappointed both in love and in friendship, and looking upon human learning as vanity, he had come to a conclusion that there was but one good thing in the world, videlicet, a good dinner; and this his parsimonious lady seldom suffered him to enjoy: but, one morning, like Sir Leoline in Christabel, 'he woke and found his lady dead,' and remained a very consolate widower, with one small child.
This only son and heir Mr Glowry had christened Scythrop, from the name of a maternal ancestor, who had hanged himself one rainy day in a fit of toedium vitae, and had been eulogised by a coroner's jury in the comprehensive phrase of felo de se; on which account, Mr Glowry held his memory in high honour, and made a punchbowl of his skull.
When Scythrop grew up, he was sent, as usual, to a public school, where a little learning was painfully beaten into him, and from thence to the university, where it was carefully taken out of him; and he was sent home like a well-threshed ear of corn, with nothing in his head: having finished his education to the high satisfaction of the master and fellows of his college, who had, in testimony of their approbation, presented him with a silver fish-slice, on which his name figured at the head of a laudatory inscription in some semi-barbarous dialect of Anglo-Saxonised Latin.
His fellow-students, however, who drove tandem and random in great perfection, and were connoisseurs in good inns, had taught him to drink deep ere he departed. He had passed much of his time with these choice spirits, and had seen the rays of the midnight lamp tremble on many a lengthening file of empty bottles. He passed his vacations sometimes at Nightmare Abbey, sometimes in London, at the house of his uncle, Mr Hilary, a very cheerful and elastic gentleman, who had married the sister of the melancholy Mr Glowry. The company that frequented his house was the gayest of the gay. Scythrop danced with the ladies and drank with the gentlemen, and was pronounced by both a very accomplished charming fellow, and an honour to the university.
At the house of Mr Hilary, Scythrop first saw the beautiful Miss Emily Girouette. He fell in love; which is nothing new. He was favourably received; which is nothing strange. Mr Glowry and Mr Girouette had a meeting on the occasion, and quarrelled about the terms of the bargain; which is neither new nor strange. The lovers were torn asunder, weeping and vowing everlasting constancy; and, in three weeks after this tragical event, the lady was led a smiling bride to the altar, by the Honourable Mr Lackwit; which is neither strange nor new.
Scythrop received this intelligence at Nightmare Abbey, and was half distracted on the occasion. It was his first disappointment, and preyed deeply on his sensitive spirit. His father, to comfort him, read him a Commentary on Ecclesiastes, which he had himself composed, and which demonstrated incontrovertibly that all is vanity. He insisted particularly on the text, 'One man among a thousand have I found, but a woman amongst all those have I not found.'
'How could he expect it,' said Scythrop, 'when the whole thousand were locked up in his seraglio? His experience is no precedent for a free state of society like that in which we live.'
'Locked up or at large,' said Mr Glowry, 'the result is the same: their minds are always locked up, and vanity and interest keep the key. I speak feelingly, Scythrop.'
'I am sorry for it, sir,' said Scythrop. 'But how is it that their minds are locked up? The fault is in their artificial education, which studiously models them into mere musical dolls, to be set out for sale in the great toy-shop of society.'
'To be sure,' said Mr Glowry, 'their education is not so well finished as yours has been; and your idea of a musical doll is good. I bought one myself, but it was confoundedly out of tune; but, whatever be the cause, Scythrop, the effect is certainly this, that one is pretty nearly as good as another, as far as any judgment can be formed of them before marriage. It is only after marriage that they show their true qualities, as I know by bitter experience. Marriage is, therefore, a lottery, and the less choice and selection a man bestows on his ticket the better; for, if he has incurred considerable pains and expense to obtain a lucky number, and his lucky number proves a blank, he experiences not a simple, but a complicated disappointment; the loss of labour and money being superadded to the disappointment of drawing a blank, which, constituting simply and entirely the grievance of him who has chosen his ticket at random, is, from its simplicity, the more endurable.' This very excellent reasoning was thrown away upon Scythrop, who retired to his tower as dismal and disconsolate as before.
The tower which Scythrop inhabited stood at the south-eastern angle of the Abbey; and, on the southern side, the foot of the tower opened on a terrace, which was called the garden, though nothing grew on it but ivy, and a few amphibious weeds. The south-western tower, which was ruinous and full of owls, might, with equal propriety, have been called the aviary. This terrace or garden, or terrace-garden, or garden-terrace (the reader may name it ad libitum), took in an oblique view of the open sea, and fronted a long tract of level sea-coast, and a fine monotony of fens and windmills.
The reader will judge, from what we have said, that this building was a sort of castellated abbey; and it will, probably, occur to him to inquire if it had been one of the strong-holds of the ancient church militant. Whether this was the case, or how far it had been indebted to the taste of Mr Glowry's ancestors for any transmutations from its original state, are, unfortunately, circumstances not within the pale of our knowledge.
The north-western tower contained the apartments of Mr Glowry. The moat at its base, and the fens beyond, comprised the whole of his prospect. This moat surrounded the Abbey, and was in immediate contact with the walls on every side but the south.
The north-eastern tower was appropriated to the domestics, whom Mr Glowry always chose by one of two criterions,—a long face, or a dismal name. His butler was Raven; his steward was Crow; his valet was Skellet. Mr Glowry maintained that the valet was of French extraction, and that his name was Squelette. His grooms were Mattocks and Graves. On one occasion, being in want of a footman, he received a letter from a person signing himself Diggory Deathshead, and lost no time in securing this acquisition; but on Diggory's arrival, Mr Glowry was horror-struck by the sight of a round ruddy face, and a pair of laughing eyes. Deathshead was always grinning,—not a ghastly smile, but the grin of a comic mask; and disturbed the echoes of the hall with so much unhallowed laughter, that Mr Glowry gave him his discharge. Diggory, however, had staid long enough to make conquests of all the old gentleman's maids, and left him a flourishing colony of young Deathsheads to join chorus with the owls, that had before been the exclusive choristers of Nightmare Abbey.
The main body of the building was divided into rooms of state, spacious apartments for feasting, and numerous bed-rooms for visitors, who, however, were few and far between.
Family interests compelled Mr Glowry to receive occasional visits from Mr and Mrs Hilary, who paid them from the same motive; and, as the lively gentleman on these occasions found few conductors for his exuberant gaiety, he became like a double-charged electric jar, which often exploded in some burst of outrageous merriment to the signal discomposure of Mr Glowry's nerves.
Another occasional visitor, much more to Mr Glowry's taste, was Mr Flosky,[1] a very lachrymose and morbid gentleman, of some note in the literary world, but in his own estimation of much more merit than name. The part of his character which recommended him to Mr Glowry, was his very fine sense of the grim and the tearful. No one could relate a dismal story with so many minutiæ of supererogatory wretchedness. No one could call up a raw-head and bloody-bones with so many adjuncts and circumstances of ghastliness. Mystery was his mental element. He lived in the midst of that visionary world in which nothing is but what is not. He dreamed with his eyes open, and saw ghosts dancing round him at noontide. He had been in his youth an enthusiast for liberty, and had hailed the dawn of the French Revolution as the promise of a day that was to banish war and slavery, and every form of vice and misery, from the face of the earth. Because all this was not done, he deduced that nothing was done; and from this deduction, according to his system of logic, he drew a conclusion that worse than nothing was done; that the overthrow of the feudal fortresses of tyranny and superstition was the greatest calamity that had ever befallen mankind; and that their only hope now was to rake the rubbish together, and rebuild it without any of those loopholes by which the light had originally crept in. To qualify himself for a coadjutor in this laudable task, he plunged into the central opacity of Kantian metaphysics, and lay perdu several years in transcendental darkness, till the common daylight of common sense became intolerable to his eyes. He called the sun an ignis fatuus; and exhorted all who would listen to his friendly voice, which were about as many as called 'God save King Richard,' to shelter themselves from its delusive radiance in the obscure haunt of Old Philosophy. This word Old had great charms for him. The good old times were always on his lips; meaning the days when polemic theology was in its prime, and rival prelates beat the drum ecclesiastic with Herculean vigour, till the one wound up his series of syllogisms with the very orthodox conclusion of roasting the other.