3 February, in the year of our Lord 2022
Up, and by correspondence some confirmacion of a matter upon my mind for some little while, which is that I return to think of the study of Musique, which would become me, having a musique room and made some Composicions, and liking pretty well to listen to it. By and by comes Mr. M. Jones and I explayne the same to him.
‘And where do you plan to undertake this Education?’ says he.
‘I am embarked all ready upon the preliminarys of the exercise,’ say I, ‘and have sent my Applicacion.’
‘To the Royal Academy?’
‘To the Conservatoire.’
‘Banger!’ He pales. ‘But is that not a part of the City where few dare venture unaccompanied? A borough in whose mean streets lies not a little danger?’
‘I think not that there is not a little danger there,’ say I.
‘I did not say that I think that there is not a little danger there for no reason,’ retorts Mr. Jones.
‘Well,’ say I, giving ground and standing it at the same time, ‘though I am not disinclined to disbelieve your disquiet that there might not be a little danger, and not being minded to disagree that such danger is not unknown, neither am I willing to disavow my opinion that I should not permit myself to be dissuaded from my course of action.’ I pause to go over that sentence in my mind to make sure all the negatives cancel out but cannot remember how it began, so plow on. ‘Anyway, it is in Upper Banger.’
‘That may be the case. But only the other day did I read of a gentleman mugged outside The Globe Inn on Albert street by itinerants who stole his bass viall.’
‘Such squalid crimes are not uncommon in the streets of the City.’
‘I would call it base viallence,’ quips he, and I feel that on top of quadruple negatives we are in for one of those Dad Joke mornings.
‘He was unwise to venture there as a solo performer,’ admit I. ‘But to assuage your concerns I shall endeavour to walk abroad with companyons — as a trio, or even a Quartett.’
‘Huh. You may still be set upon by an organised Ensemble.’
‘Well, the Conservatoire is where trayned my teacher Mr. Greeting upon the flageolitt,’ counter I. ‘And all speak well upon the matter of its practices.’
‘You will be telling me next that it hath a Sound reputacion.’
‘Anyway, for what reason do you wish to persue such scholarship at your advanced age? Surely you should be devoting your declining years to gardening and afternoon naps?’
‘I devoted my working years to gardening and afternoon naps. It is to defer Congitive Decline that I am set upon this course. Lock Up, as you know, afforded me an opportunitie to read attentively upon the subject of musique in Antiquitie, heretofore a void in my knowledge.’
‘Yes, I do know. You droned on about it for weeks.’
‘Drone being the aposite word!’ say I, brightly. ‘For the interesting thing is that the concept of the Drone in musique can be traced back to the earliest — ’
‘Enough!’ He holds up a hand. ‘I feel sufficiently well-informed upon the subjeckt of drones to play with virtuositie upon the bagpipe — or worse, and Lord forbid, upon the banjo.’
‘Well,’ say I, ‘I feel I play well enough upon the clavachord, a more mellyfluose instrument than either, and it would joy me greatly to perform with a Reformacion consort, or company of some similar nature.’
‘Be careful, then, for if you find in your band a thuggish fellow with a giant violin you may be accused of Consorting with a known criminal.’
This being an unexpectedly good joke, he away and I to a little work in the garden and a nap. To supper at the White fort Arms on White Fort street. And there comes with us Mr. Sean Jones, Mr. Jones son, which I never met before, and much lively discourse on divers matters, incl. that he hath a drone that flys into the sky to sketch the scene from above (which in all my books of Musique in the Dark Ages I never read, though it was not the case that I had insufficient uncertainty to persuade him that his was a misuse of the term, so did keep quiet). Also discoursed a little upon news more defynite, that the eastern lands of the Cossack are endeed threatened, though the despatches from Mosco mock it as a practice, but all know that if our own First Lord is a born dissembler (which only the gullyble doubt) then the Emperor of Russia is a maister in the same dark art. But then to matters of less Consequence, and all very merry with a fine wine from Chilly.