The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 288: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PRIVATE THEATRICALS 255 of her bosom was left bare that it was by no means difficult for imagination to fill up the picture in all its voluptuous perfection. Her dress was not only thus low in the body, but it was equally scant in the skirt, and the splendid symmetry of her limbs was accurately portrayed by the flesh-coloured silk that covered them with such tight-fitting accuracy. Her splendid arms, white and glowing, were naked to the shoulder, and thus was her superb form exposed so that every line could be traced, every deflection and in- flection, every sinuosity and swelling charm, every curve and contour, could be faithfully followed by the gloating eye of the observer. : Lady Curzon, who had likewise undertaken a part in the performances of the evening, was apparelled in a manner to set off her own beauties to their utmost advantage. She wore her raven hair in ringlets, which showered like shining jet upon her finely shaped shoulders, whereas Venetia had her auburn hair arranged in massive bands and ornamented with flowers. The other ladies who were to take part in the drama were attired in dresses as gauzy and transparent as those of Venetia and Editha, and nothing could be more voluptuous, nothing better calculated to excite the most laggard passions or fire the fervid ones to frenzy, than this assemblage of beauties so sensuously, so shamelessly exposed. The prince regent retained his court dress, which became the character indicated by the piece for him to perform. Lord Curzon was disguised as an old astrologer, but Sir Douglas Huntingdon and several other nobleman and gentle- men who formed part of the amateur corps retained the same apparel in which they had appeared at the banquet. The opening piece was called ‘“‘ The King and the Sea- nymphs,’’ and had been written on purpose for the occasion. Its plot was meagre, its structure slight, but it abounded in briliant and sparkling dialogue, and admitted of all the exciting effects to be produced by voluptuous tableaux. But avoiding minute details as much as possible, let us resume the thread of our narrative and at once pass from the greenroom to the stage. A silver bell tinkled, and the orchestra — for we should have observed that there was a splendid band present — played a piece of music that stole soitly and wantonly upon the senses. Again the bell chimed, © alter a short space, and the curtain drew up, revealing the Connicloooks (C(O)