Excerpt
SCENE I.—MUSIC MASTER, DANCING MASTER, THREE SINGERS, TWO VIOLIN PLAYERS, FOUR DANCERS.
MUS. MAS. (to the MUSICIANS). Come into this room, and rest till he comes.
DAN. MAS. (to the DANCERS). Come also, on this side.
MUS. MAS. (to his PUPIL). Have you finished?
PUP. Yes.
MUS. MAS. Let me see. Very good.
DAN. MAS. Is it anything new?
MUS. MAS. Yes; it is an air for a serenade that I made him compose while we are waiting for our gentleman to wake up.
DAN. MAS. Will you allow me to see what it is?
MUS. MAS. You shall hear it, as well as the dialogue, when he comes; he won't be long.
DAN. MAS. We both have plenty to do now; have we not?
MUS. MAS. Indeed we have. We have found the very man we both wanted. He brings us in a comfortable little income, with his notions of gentility and gallantry which he has taken into his head; and it would be well for your dancing and my music if everybody were like him.
DAN. MAS. No; not altogether. I wish, for his sake, that he would appreciate better than he does the things we give him.
MUS. MAS. He certainly understands them but little; but he pays well, and that is nowadays what our arts require above all things.
DAN. MAS. I must confess, for my part, that I rather hunger after glory. Applause finds a very ready answer in my heart, and I think it mortifying enough that in the fine arts we should have to exhibit ourselves before fools, and submit our compositions to the vulgar taste of an ass. No! say what you will, there is a real pleasure in working for people who are able to appreciate the refinements of an art; who know how to yield a kind recognition to the beauties of a work, and who, by felicitous approbations, reward you for your labour. Yes! the most charming recompense one can receive for the things which one does is to see them understood, and to have them received with the applause that honours. Nothing, in my opinion, can repay us better than this for all our fatigues; and the praises of the enlightened are a true delight to me.
MUS. MAS. I grant it; and I relish them as much as you do. There is certainly nothing more refreshing than the applause you speak of; still we cannot live on this flattering acknowledgment of our talent. Undiluted praise does not give competence to a man; we must have something more solid to fall back upon, and the best praise is the praise of the pocket. Our man, it is true, is a man of very limited capacity, who speaks at random upon all things, and only gives applause in the wrong place; but his money makes up for the errors of his judgment. He keeps his discernment in his purse, and his praises are golden. This ignorant, commonplace citizen is, as you see, better to us than that clever nobleman who introduced us here.
DAN. MAS. There is some truth in what you say; still I think that you set a little too much value on money, and that it is in itself something so base that he who respects himself should never make a display of his love for it.
MUS. MAS. Yet you receive readily enough the money our man gives you.
DAN. MAS. Certainly; but my whole happiness does not depend upon it; and I can still wish that with all his wealth he had good taste....