Charles Dickens

Waldengarver, with an air of dignity, in spite of his being ground

against the wall at the time, and holding on by the seat of the

chair.

"But I'll tell you one thing, Mr. Waldengarver," said the man who

was on his knees, "in which you're out in your reading. Now mind! I

don't care who says contrairy; I tell you so. You're out in your

reading of Hamlet when you get your legs in profile. The last

Hamlet as I dressed, made the same mistakes in his reading at

rehearsal, till I got him to put a large red wafer on each of his

shins, and then at that rehearsal (which was the last) I went in

front, sir, to the back of the pit, and whenever his reading

brought him into profile, I called out "I don't see no wafers!" And

at night his reading was lovely."

Mr. Waldengarver smiled at me, as much as to say "a faithful

dependent - I overlook his folly;" and then said aloud, "My view is

a little classic and thoughtful for them here; but they will

improve, they will improve."

Herbert and I said together, Oh, no doubt they would improve.

"Did you observe, gentlemen," said Mr. Waldengarver, "that there was

a man in the gallery who endeavoured to cast derision on the

service - I mean, the representation?"

We basely replied that we rather thought we had noticed such a man.

I added, "He was drunk, no doubt."

"Oh dear no, sir," said Mr. Wopsle, "not drunk. His employer would

see to that, sir. His employer would not allow him to be drunk."

"You know his employer?" said I.

Mr. Wopsle shut his eyes, and opened them again; performing both

ceremonies very slowly. "You must have observed, gentlemen," said

he, "an ignorant and a blatant ass, with a rasping throat and a

countenance expressive of low malignity, who went through - I will

not say sustained - the role (if I may use a French expression) of

Claudius King of Denmark. That is his employer, gentlemen. Such is

the profession!"

Without distinctly knowing whether I should have been more sorry

for Mr. Wopsle if he had been in despair, I was so sorry for him as

it was, that I took the opportunity of his turning round to have

his braces put on - which jostled us out at the doorway - to ask

Herbert what he thought of having him home to supper? Herbert said

he thought it would be kind to do so; therefore I invited him, and

he went to Barnard's with us, wrapped up to the eyes, and we did

our best for him, and he sat until two o'clock in the morning,

reviewing his success and developing his plans. I forget in detail

what they were, but I have a general recollection that he was to

begin with reviving the Drama, and to end with crushing it;

inasmuch as his decease would leave it utterly bereft and without a

chance or hope.

Miserably I went to bed after all, and miserably thought of

Estella, and miserably dreamed that my expectations were all

cancelled, and that I had to give my hand in marriage to Herbert's

Clara, or play Hamlet to Miss Havisham's Ghost, before twenty

thousand people, without knowing twenty words of it.

Chapter 32

One day when I was busy with my books and Mr. Pocket, I received a

note by the post, the mere outside of which threw me into a great

flutter; for, though I had never seen the handwriting in which it

was addressed, I divined whose hand it was. It had no set

beginning, as Dear Mr. Pip, or Dear Pip, or Dear Sir, or Dear

Anything, but ran thus:

"I am to come to London the day after to-morrow by the mid-day

coach. I believe it was settled you should meet me? At all events

Miss Havisham has that impression, and I write in obedience to it.

She sends you her regard.

Yours, ESTELLA."

If there had been time, I should probably have ordered several

suits of clothes for this occasion; but as there was not, I was

fain to be content with those I had. My appetite vanished

instantly, and I knew no peace or rest until the day arrived.