No piece could be proposed that did not supply somebody with a difficulty, and on one side or the other it was a continual repetition of,
"Oh no, that will never do!
Let us have no ranting tragedies.
Too many characters.
Not a tolerable woman's part in the play.
Anything but that, my dear Tom.
It would be impossible to fill it up.
One could not expect anybody to take such a part.
Nothing but buffoonery from beginning to end.
That might do, perhaps, but for the low parts.
If I must give my opinion, I have always thought it the most insipid play in the English language.
I do not wish to make objections; I shall be happy to be of any use, but I think we could not chuse worse."
Fanny looked on and listened, not unamused to observe the selfishness which, more or less disguised, seemed to govern them all, and wondering how it would end.
For her own gratification she could have wished that something might be acted, for she had never seen even half a play, but everything of higher consequence was against it.
"This will never do," said Tom Bertram at last.
"We are wasting time most abominably.
Something must be fixed on.
No matter what, so that something is chosen.
We must not be so nice.
A few characters too many must not frighten us.
We must double them.
We must descend a little.
If a part is insignificant, the greater our credit in making anything of it.
From this moment I make no difficulties.
I take any part you chuse to give me, so as it be comic.
Let it but be comic, I condition for nothing more."
For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law, doubting only whether to prefer Lord Duberley or Dr. Pangloss for himself; and very earnestly, but very unsuccessfully, trying to persuade the others that there were some fine tragic parts in the rest of the dramatis personae.
The pause which followed this fruitless effort was ended by the same speaker, who, taking up one of the many volumes of plays that lay on the table, and turning it over, suddenly exclaimed -
"Lovers' Vows!
And why should not Lovers' Vows do for us as well as for the Ravenshaws?
How came it never to be thought of before?
It strikes me as if it would do exactly.
What say you all?
Here are two capital tragic parts for Yates and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me, if nobody else wants it; a trifling part, but the sort of thing I should not dislike, and, as I said before, I am determined to take anything and do my best.
And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody.
It is only Count Cassel and Anhalt."
The suggestion was generally welcome.
Everybody was growing weary of indecision, and the first idea with everybody was, that nothing had been proposed before so likely to suit them all.
Mr. Yates was particularly pleased: he had been sighing and longing to do the Baron at Ecclesford, had grudged every rant of Lord Ravenshaw's, and been forced to re-rant it all in his own room.
The storm through Baron Wildenheim was the height of his theatrical ambition; and with the advantage of knowing half the scenes by heart already, he did now, with the greatest alacrity, offer his services for the part.
To do him justice, however, he did not resolve to appropriate it; for remembering that there was some very good ranting-ground in Frederick, he professed an equal willingness for that.
Henry Crawford was ready to take either.
Whichever Mr. Yates did not chuse would perfectly satisfy him, and a short parley of compliment ensued.
Miss Bertram, feeling all the interest of an Agatha in the question, took on her to decide it, by observing to Mr. Yates that this was a point in which height and figure ought to be considered, and that his being the tallest, seemed to fit him peculiarly for the Baron.
She was acknowledged to be quite right, and the two parts being accepted accordingly, she was certain of the proper Frederick.
Three of the characters were now cast, besides Mr. Rushworth, who was always answered for by Maria as willing to do anything; when Julia, meaning, like her sister, to be Agatha, began to be scrupulous on Miss Crawford's account.
"This is not behaving well by the absent," said she.
"Here are not women enough.
Amelia and Agatha may do for Maria and me, but here is nothing for your sister, Mr. Crawford."
Mr. Crawford desired that might not be thought of: he was very sure his sister had no wish of acting but as she might be useful, and that she would not allow herself to be considered in the present case.