Mr. Glanville, finding by this epistle, that Arabella did not design to encourage the addresses of Sir George, would not have been against his receiving it, had he not feared the consequence of his having such a convincing proof of the peculiarity of her temper in his possession; and while he kept the letter in his hand, as if he wanted to consider it a little better, he meditated on the means to prevent its being ever delivered; and had possibly fixed upon some successful contrivance, when a servant coming in, to inform the ladies that Sir George was come to wait on them, put an end to his schemes; and he immediately ran down to receive him, not being willing to increase, by his stay, the astonishment and confusion which appeared in the countenance of Arabella, at hearing a man, whom she had believed and represented to be dying, was come to pay her a visit.
Where the lady extricates herself out of her former confusion, to the great astonishment, we will suppose, of the reader.
Miss Glanville, not having so much delicacy as her brother, could not help exulting a little upon this occasion.
After the terrible fright you have been in, madam, said she, upon Sir George's account, I wonder you do not rather think it is his ghost than himself that is come to see us.
There is no question but it is himself that is come, said Arabella, (who had already reconciled this visit to her first thoughts of him); and it is, haply, to execute his fatal design in my presence, that has brought him here; and, like the unfortunate Agilmond, he means to convince me of his fidelity and love, by falling upon his sword before my eyes.
Bless me, madam, said Miss Glanville, what horrid things come into your head! I vow you terrify me out of my wits, to hear you.
There is no occasion for your fears, interrupted Arabella: since we already suspect his designs, it will be very easy to prevent them. Had the princess of the Sarmatians known the fatal intentions of her despairing lover, doubtless, she would have used some precautions to hinder him from executing them; for want of which she saw the miserable Agilmond weltering in his blood at her feet; and with reason accused herself of being the cause of so deplorable a spectacle.
The astonishment Miss Glanville was in, to hear her cousin talk in this manner, kept her from giving her any interruption, while she related several other terrible instances of despair.
In the mean time, Sir George, who was impatient to go up to Lady Bella's apartment, having flattered himself into a belief, that his letter was favourably received; and that he should be permitted tohopeat least; made a short visit to Sir Charles in his own room; and, accompanied by Mr. Glanville, who was resolved to see in what manner Arabella received him, went to her apartment.
As he had taken care, at his entrance, to accommodate his looks to the character he had assumed of an humble despairing lover, Arabella no sooner saw him, than her countenance changed; and, making a sign to Mr. Glanville, who could not comprehend what she meant, to seize upon the guard of his sword, she hastily stepped forward to meet him.
I am too well convinced, said she to Sir George, that the intent of your coming hither to-day is to commit some violence against yourself before my eyes: but listen not, I beseech you, to the dictates of your despair. Live; I command you, live; and since you say I have the absolute disposal of your life, do not deprive yourself of it, without the consent of her on whom you profess to have bestowed it.
Sir George, who did not imagine Arabella would communicate his letter to her cousins, and only expected some distant hints from her concerning it, was so confounded at this reception before them, that he was not able to reply. He blushed, and turned pale alternately; and, not daring to look either upon Miss Glanville or her brother, or to meet the eyes of the fair visionary, who with great impatience expected his answer, he hung down his head, in a very silly posture; and, by his silence, confirmed Arabella in her opinion.
As he did not want for wit and assurance, during that interval of silence and expectation from all parties, his imagination suggested to him the means of extricating himself out of the ridiculous perplexity he was in; and as it concerned him greatly to avoid any quarrel with the brother and sister, he determined to turn the whole matter into a jest; but, if possible, to manage it so that Arabella should not enter into his meaning.
Raising therefore his eyes, and looking upon Arabella with a melancholy air—
You are not deceived, madam, said he: this criminal, with whom you are so justly offended, comes with an intention to die at your feet, and breathe out his miserable life, to expiate those crimes of which you accuse him: but since your severe compassion will oblige me to live, I obey, O most divine, but cruel Arabella! I obey your harsh commands; and, by endeavouring to live, give you a more convincing proof of that respect and submission I shall always have for your will.
I expected no less from your courage and generosity, said Arabella, with a look of great complacency; and since you so well know how to imitate the great Lysimachus in your obedience, I shall be no less acknowledging than the fair Parisatis; but will have for you an esteem equal to that virtue I have observed in you.
Sir George, having received this gracious promise with a most profound bow, turned to Mr. Glanville, with a kind of chastened smile upon his countenance.
And you, fortunate and deserving knight, said he, happy in the affections of the fairest person in the world! grudge me not this small alleviation of my misfortunes; and envy me not that esteem which alone is able to make me suffer life, while you possess, in the heart of the divine Arabella, a felicity that might be envied by the greatest monarchs in the world.
As diverting as this scene was, Mr. Glanville was extremely uneasy: for though Sir George's stratagem took, and he believed he was only indulging the gaiety of his humour by carrying on this farce, yet he could not endure he should divert himself at Arabella's expense. The solemn speech he had made him, did indeed force him to smile; but he soon assumed a graver look, and told Sir George, in a low voice, that when he had finished his visit, he should be glad to take a turn with him in the garden.
Sir George promised to follow him, and Mr. Glanville left the room, and went into the gardens; where the baronet, having taken a respectful leave of Arabella, and by a sly glance convinced Miss Glanville he had sacrificed her cousin to her mirth, went to join her brother.
Mr. Glanville, as soon as he saw him, walked to meet him with a very reserved air; which Sir George observing, and being resolved to keep up his humour—
What, inhuman but too-happy lover, said he, what am I to understand by that cloud upon your brow? Is it possible that thou canst envy me the small comfort I have received? And, not satisfied with the glorious advantages thou possessest, wilt thou still deny me that esteem, which the divine Arabella has been pleased to bestow upon me?
Pray, Sir George, said Mr. Glanville, lay aside this pompous style: I am not disposed to be merry at present, and have not all the relish for this kind of wit that you seem to expect. I desired to see you here, that I might tell you, without witnesses, I take it extremely ill you should presume to make my cousin the object of your mirth. Lady Bella, sir, is not a person with whom such liberties ought to be taken: nor will I, in the double character of her lover and relation, suffer it from any one whatever.
Cruel fortune! said Sir George, stepping back a little, and lifting up his eyes, shall I always be exposed to thy persecutions? And must I, without any apparent cause, behold an enemy in the person of my friend; who, though, without murmuring, I resign to him the adorable Arabella, is yet resolved to dispute with me a satisfaction which does not deprive him of any part of that glorious fortune to which he is destined? Since it is so, unjust and cruel friend, pursued he, strike this breast which carries the image of the divine Arabella; but think not that I will offer to defend myself, or lift my sword against a man beloved by her.
This is all very fine, returned Mr. Glanville, hardly able to forbear laughing; but it is impossible, with all your gaiety, to hinder me from being serious upon this business.
Then be as serious as thou wilt, dear Charles, interrupted Sir George, provided you will allow me to be gay; and not pretend to infect me with thy unbecoming gravity.
I have but a few words to say to you, then, sir, replied Mr. Glanville: either behave with more respect to my cousin; or prepare to give me satisfaction for the insults you offer her.
Oh! I understand you, sir, said Sir George; and because you have taken it into your head to be offended at a trifle of no consequence in the world, I must give you a fair chance to run me through the body! There is something very foolish, faith, in such an extravagant expectation: but since custom has made it necessary that a man must venture his soul and body upon these important occasions, because I will not be out of the fashion, you shall command me whenever you think fit; though I shall fight with my schoolfellow with a very ill will, I assure you.
There is no necessity for fighting, said Mr. Glanville, blushing at the ludicrous light in which the gay baronet had placed his challenge: the concession I have required is very small, and not worth the contesting for on your side. Lady Bella's peculiarity, to which you contribute so much, can afford you, at best but an ill-natured diversion, while it gives me a real pain; and sure you must acknowledge you are doing me a very great injury, when you endeavour to confirm a lady, who is to be my wife, in a behaviour that excites your mirth, and makes her a fit object for your ridicule and contempt.
You do Lady Bella, a much greater injury than I do, replied Sir George, by supposing she can ever be an object of ridicule and contempt. I think very highly of her understanding; and though the bent of her studies has given her mind a romantic turn, yet the singularity of her manners is far less disagreeable than the lighter follies of most of her sex.
But to be absolutely perfect, interrupted Mr. Glanville, I must cure her of that singularity; and therefore I beg you will not persist in assuming a behaviour conformable to her romantic ideas; but rather help me to banish them from her imagination.
Well, replied Sir George, since you no longer threaten, I'll do what I can to content you; but I must quit my heroics by degrees, and sink with decency into my own character; otherwise she will never endure me in her presence.
Arabella and Miss Glanville appearing in the walk, broke off the conversation. The baronet and Mr. Glanville walked forward to meet them; but Arabella, who did not desire company, struck into another walk, whither Mr. Glanville following, proposed to join her, when he saw his father, who had been taking a turn there alone, make up to Arabella; and supposing he would take that opportunity to talk to her concerning him, he went back to his sister and Sir George, whose conversation he interrupted, to the great regret of Miss Glanville.
Arabella no sooner saw Sir Charles advancing towards her, than, sensible of the consequence of being alone with a person whom she did not doubt would make use of that advantage to talk to her of love, she endeavoured to avoid him, but in vain; for Sir Charles, guessing her intentions, walked hastily up to her; and, taking hold of her hand—
You must not go away, Lady Bella, said he: I have something to say to you.
Arabella, extremely discomposed at this behaviour, struggled to free her hand from her uncle; and giving him a look, on which disdain and fear were visibly painted—
Unhand me, sir, said she, and force me not to forget the respect I owe you as my uncle, by treating you with a severity such uncommon insolence demands.
Sir Charles, letting go her hand in a great surprise at the word insolent, which she had used, asked her if she knew to whom she was speaking?
Questionless, I am speaking to my uncle, replied she; and it is with great regret I see myself obliged to make use of expressions no way conformable to the respect I bear that sacred character.
And, pray, madam, said Sir Charles, somewhat softened by this speech, who is it that obliges you to lay aside that respect you seem to acknowledge is due to your uncle?
You do, sir, replied she; and it is with infinite sorrow that I behold you assuming a character unbecoming the brother of my father.
This is pretty plain, indeed, interrupted Sir Charles: but pray, madam, inform me what it is you complain of.
You questionless know much better than I can tell you, replied Arabella, blushing, the offence I accuse you of; nor is it proper for me to mention what it would not become me to suffer.
Zounds! cried Sir Charles, no longer able to suppress his growing anger: this is enough to make a man mad.
Ah! I beseech you, sir, resumed Arabella, suffer not an unfortunate and ill-judged passion to be the bane of all your happiness and virtue. Recall your wandering thoughts; reflect upon the dishonour you will bring upon yourself by persisting in such unjustifiable sentiments.
I do not know how it is possible to avoid it, said Sir Charles; and, notwithstanding all this fine reasoning, there are few people but would fly into greater extremities; but my affection for you makes me——
Hold, hold, I conjure you, sir; interrupted Arabella; force me not to listen to such injurious language; carry that odious affection somewhere else; and do not persecute an unfortunate maid, who has contributed nothing to thy fault, and is only guilty of too much compassion for thy weakness.
Good God! cried Sir Charles, starting back, and looking upon Arabella with astonishment; how I pity my son! What would I not give, if he did not love this girl?
Think not, replied Arabella, that the passion your son has for me makes your condition a bit the worse; for I would be such as I am with respect to you, were there no Mr. Glanville in the world.
I never thought, niece, said Sir Charles, after a little pause, that any part of my behaviour could give you the offence you complain of, or authorise that hatred and contempt you take the liberty to express for me: but since it is so, I promise you I will quit your house, and leave you to your self. I have always been solicitous for your welfare; and ungrateful as you are——
Call me not ungrateful, interrupted Arabella again: Heaven is my witness, that had you not forgot I was your niece, I would have always remembered you was my uncle; and not only have regarded you as such, but have looked upon you as another father, under whose direction Providence had placed me, since it had deprived me of my real father, and whose tenderness and care might have in some measure supplied the loss I had of him: but Heaven has decreed it otherwise; and since it is its will that I should be deprived of the comfort and assistance my orphan state requires, I must submit, without murmuring, to my destiny. Go then, unfortunate and lamented uncle, pursued she, wiping some tears from her fine eyes; go, and endeavour by reason and absence to recover thy repose; and be assured, whenever you can convince me you have triumphed over these sentiments, which now cause both our unhappiness, you shall have no cause to complain of my conduct towards you.
Finishing these words, she left him with so much speed, that it would have been impossible for him to have stopped her, though he had intended it: but indeed he was so lost in wonder and confusion at a behaviour for which he was not able to assign any other cause than madness, that he remained fixed in the same posture of surprise, in which she had left him; and from which he was first interrupted by the voice of his son, who, seeing Arabella flying towards the house in great seeming emotion, came to know the result of their conversation.
Sir, said Mr. Glanville, who had spoken to his father before, but had no answer, will you not inform me what success you have had with my cousin? How did she receive your proposal?
Speak of her no more, said Sir Charles: she is a proud ungrateful girl, and unworthy the affection you have for her.
Mr. Glanville, who trembled to hear so unfavourable an answer to his enquiries, was struck dumb with his surprise and grief; when Sir Charles, taking notice of the alteration in his countenance—
I am sorry, said he, to find you have set your heart upon this fantastic girl: if ever she be your wife, which I very much doubt, she will make you very unhappy. But, Charles, pursued he, I would advise you to think no more of her; content yourself with the estate you gain by her refusal of you: with that addition to your own fortune, you may pretend to any lady whatever; and you will find many that are full as agreeable as your cousin, who will be proud of your addresses.
Indeed, sir, said Mr. Glanville, with a sigh, there is no woman upon earth whom I would choose to marry, but Lady Bella. I flattered myself I had been happy enough to have made some progress in her affection; but it seems I was mistaken; however, I should be glad to know if she gave you any reasons for refusing me.
Reasons! said Sir Charles: there is no making her hear reason, or expecting reason from her. I never knew so strange a woman in my life: she would not allow me to speak what I intended concerning you; but interrupted me every moment, with some high-flown stuff or other.
Then I have not lost all hopes of her, cried Mr. Glanville eagerly; for since she did not hear what you had to say, she could not possibly deny you.
But she behaved in a very impertinent manner to me, interrupted Sir Charles; complained of my harsh treatment of her; and said several other things, which, because of her uncommon style, I could not perfectly understand; yet they seemed shocking; and, upon the whole, treated me so rudely, that I am determined to leave her to herself, and trouble my head no more about her.
For God's sake, dear sir, said Mr. Glanville, alarmed at this resolution, suspend your anger till I have seen my cousin: there is some mistake, I am persuaded, in all this. I know she has some very odd humours, which you are not so well acquainted with, as I am. I'll go to her, and prevail upon her to explain herself.
You may do so, if you please, replied Sir Charles; but I fear it will be to very little purpose; for I really suspect her head is a little turned. I do not know what to do with her: it is not fit she should have the management of herself; and yet it is impossible to live upon easy terms with her.
Mr. Glanville, who did not doubt but Arabella had been guilty of some very ridiculous folly, offered nothing more in her justification; but, having attended his father to his own chamber, went to Arabella's apartment.
He found the pensive fair-one in a melancholy posture, her head reclined upon one of her fair hands; and though her eyes were fixed upon a book she held in the other, yet she did not seem to read, but rather to be wholly buried in contemplation.
Mr. Glanville having so happily found her alone (for her women were not then in her chamber) seated himself near her; having first asked pardon for the interruption he had given to her studies; and Arabella, throwing aside her book, prepared to listen to his discourse; which by the agitation which appeared in his looks, she imagined would be upon some extraordinary subject.
I left my father just now, said he, in a great deal of uneasiness, on account of something you said to him, Lady Bella: he apprehends you are disobliged, and he would willingly know how.
Has your father then acquainted you with the subject of our conversation? interrupted Arabella.
I know what would have been the subject of your conversation, replied Mr. Glanville, if you had been pleased to listen to what Sir Charles intended to say to you on my behalf.
On your behalf? interrupted Arabella: Ah, poor deceived Glanville! how I pity thy blind sincerity! But it is not for me to undeceive thee: only thus much I must say to you, beware of committing your interests to a person who will be a much better advocate for another than for you.
Mr. Glanville, rejoiced to find by these words that her resentment against his father was occasioned by a suspicion so favourable for him, assured her, that Sir Charles wished for nothing more earnestly than that he might be able to merit her esteem; and that it was to dispose her to listen to his addresses, that he wanted to discourse with her that morning.
Mr. Glanville being obliged, through his knowledge of his cousin's temper, to speak to her in this distant manner, went on with his assurances of his father's candour in this respect; and Arabella, who would not declare her reasons for doubting it, only replied, that she wished Sir Charles meant all that he had said to him; but that she could not persuade herself to believe him sincere, till his future actions had convinced her he was so.
Mr. Glanville, impatient to let his father know how greatly he had been mistaken in the cause of Arabella's behaviour, made his visit shorter than he would otherwise have done, in order to undeceive him.
Is it possible, said Sir Charles, when his son had repeated the conversation he had just had with Arabella, that she could be so foolish as to imagine I had a design to propose any one else to her but you? What reason have I ever given her, to think I would not be glad to have her for my daughter-in-law? Indeed, she has some odd ways that are very disagreeable; but she is one of the best matches in England for all that. Poor girl! pursued he, she had reason to be angry, if that was the case; and now I remember, she cried, when I told her I would leave the house; yet her spirit was so great, that she told me I might go. Well, I'll go and make it up with her; but who could have imagined she would have been so foolish? Sir Charles, at the repetition of these words, hurried away to Arabella's apartment.
Niece, said he at his entrance, I am come to ask you pardon, for having led you into a belief, that I meant——
It is enough, sir, interrupted Arabella; I grant you my pardon for what is past; and as it does not become me to receive submissions from my uncle, while he remembers he is so, I will dispense with your acknowledgments at present; only to convince me, that this sudden alteration is sincere, avoid, I beseech you, for the future, all occasions of displeasing me.
I protest, cried Sir Charles, that I never intended——
I will not hear you say a word more of your past intentions, interrupted Arabella again; I have forgot them all; and, while you continue to regard me as your niece, I will never remember them to your disadvantage.
Then I may hope——, said Sir Charles.
Oh! Heavens! cried Arabella, not suffering him to proceed; do you come to insult me thus, with a mock repentance? And has my easiness in being so ready to forget the injury you would have done me, made you presumptuous enough to cherish an insolent hope that I will ever change my resolution?
How vexatious is this! replied Sir Charles, fretting to see her continually mistaking him. I swear to you, by all that is sacred, that it is my son for whom I would solicit your consent.
How! said Arabella, astonished, will you then be just at last? And can you resolve to plead for that son, whose interest, but a moment ago, you would have destroyed?
I see, said Sir Charles, it is impossible to convince you.
No, no! interrupted Arabella, hastily; it is not impossible but my own ardent wishes that it may be so, will help to convince me of the truth of what you say: for, in fine, do you think, I shall not be as glad as yourself, to find you capable of acting honourably by your son; and to see myself no longer the cause of the most unjustifiable conduct imaginable?
Sir Charles was opening his mouth, to press her in favour of Mr. Glanville; whom, notwithstanding her strange behaviour, he was glad to find she loved; when Arabella preventing him—
Seek not, I beseech you, said she, to destroy that belief I am willing to give your words, by any more attempts at this time to persuade me; for truly, I shall interpret your solicitude no way in your favour: therefore, if you desire I should be convinced you are sincere, let the silence I require of you be one proof of it.
Sir Charles, who looked excessively out of countenance at such a peremptory command from his niece, was going out of her chamber, in a very ill humour, when the dinner-bell ringing, she gave him her hand with a very gracious air; and permitted him to lead her into the dining-room, where they found Mr. Glanville, his sister, and Sir George, who had been detained to dinner by Miss Glanville, expecting their coming.
Lady Bella having recovered her usual cheerfulness, through the satisfaction she felt at her uncle's returning to reason, and the abatement she perceived in Sir George's extreme melancholy, mixed in the conversation with that wit and vivacity which was natural to her, and which so absolutely charmed the whole company, that not one of them remembered any of her former extravagancies.
Mr. Glanville gazed on her with a passionate tenderness, Sir George with admiration, and the old baronet with wonder and delight.
But Miss Glanville, who was inwardly vexed at the superiority her cousin's wit gave her over herself, wished for nothing more than an opportunity of interrupting a conversation in which she could have no share; and willing to put them in mind of some of Arabella's strange notions, when she observed them disputing concerning some of the actions of the ancient Romans, she very innocently asked Sir George, whether in former times women went to the wars, and fought like men? For my cousin, added she, talks of one Thaltris, a woman, that was as courageous as any soldier whatever.
Mr. Glanville, horridly vexed at a question that was likely to engage Arabella in a discourse very different from that she had been so capable of pleasing in, frowned very intelligibly at his sister; and to prevent any answer being given to her absurd demand, directed some other conversation to Arabella: but she, who saw a favourite subject started, took no notice of what Mr. Glanville was saying to her; but directing her looks to Sir George—
Though Miss Glanville, said she, be a little mistaken in the name of that fair queen she has mentioned; yet I am persuaded you know whom she means; and that it is the renowned Thalestris, whose valour staggers her belief, and of whom she wants to be informed.
Ay, ay, Thalestris, said Miss Glanville: it is such a strange name I could not remember it; but, pray, was there ever such a person?
Certainly, madam, there was, replied Sir George: she was queen of the Amazons, a warlike nation of women, who possessed great part of Cappadocia, and extended their conquests so far, that they became formidable to all their neighbours.
You find, miss, said Arabella, I did not attempt to impose upon you, when I told you of the admirable valour of that beautiful queen; which indeed was so great, that the united princes, in whose cause she fought, looked upon her assistance to be equal to that of a whole army; and they honoured her accordingly, with the most distinguishing marks of their esteem and acknowledgment, and offered her the chief command of their forces.
O shameful! cried Sir Charles: offer a woman the command of an army! Brave fellows indeed, that would be commanded by a woman! Sure you mistake, niece: there never was such a thing heard of in the world.
What, sir, said Arabella, will you contradict a fact attested by the greatest historians that ever were? You may as well pretend to say, there never were such persons as Oroondates or Juba, as dispute the existence of the famous Thalestris.
Why, pray, madam, said Sir Charles, who were those?
One of them, replied Arabella, was the great king of Scythia; and the other, prince of the Two Mauritanias.
Odds-heart! interrupted Sir Charles, I believe their kingdoms are in the moon: I never heard of Scythia, or the Two Mauritanias, before.
And yet, sir, replied Arabella, those kingdoms are doubtless as well known as France or England; and there is no question but the descendants of the great Oroondates, and the valiant Juba, sway the sceptres of them to this day.
I must confess, said Sir George, I have a very great admiration for those two renowned princes, and have read their beautiful exploits with infinite pleasure; notwithstanding which, I am more inclined to esteem the great Artaban than either of them.
Though Artaban, replied Arabella, is, without question, a warrior equal to either of them, and haply no person in the world possessed so sublime a courage as his was; yet, it may be, your partiality proceeds from another cause; and you having the honour to resemble him in some little infidelities he was accused of, with less justice than yourself perhaps, induces you to favour him more than any other.
Arabella blushed when she ended these words: and Sir George replied with a sigh—
I have, indeed, the honour, madam, to resemble the great Artaban, in having dared to raise my thoughts towards a divine person, who, with reason, condemns my adorations.
Hey-day! cried Sir Charles, are you going to speak of divine things, after all the fables you have been talking of? Troth, I love to hear young men enter upon such subjects: but pray, niece, who told you Sir George was an infidel?
Mr. Glanville, replied Arabella: and I am inclined to think he spoke truth; for Sir George has never pretended to deny it.
How! interrupted Sir Charles; I am sorry to hear that. I hope you have never, added he, looking at the young baronet, endeavoured to corrupt my son with any of your free-thinking principles. I am for every body having liberty of conscience; but I cannot endure to hear people of your stamp endeavouring to propagate your mischievous notions; and because you have no regard for your own future happiness, disturbing other people in the laudable pursuit of theirs.
We will not absolutely condemn Sir George, said Arabella, till we have heard his history from his own mouth, which he promised, some time ago, to relate when I desired it.
I do not imagine his history is fit to be heard by ladies, said Sir Charles; for your infidels live a strange kind of life.
However that may be, replied Arabella, we must not dispense with Sir George from performing his promise. I dare say there are no ladies here who will think the worse of him for freely confessing his faults.
You may answer for yourself, if you please, madam, said Sir Charles; but I hope my girl there will not say as much.
I dare say my cousin is not so rigid, said Arabella: she has too much the spirit of Julia in her, to find fault with a little infidelity.
I am always obliged to you for your comparisons, cousin, said Miss Glanville: I suppose this is greatly to my advantage too.
I assure you, madam, said Sir George, Lady Bella has done you no injury by the comparison she has just now made; for Julia was one of the finest princesses in the world.
Yet she was not free from the suspicion of infidelity, replied Arabella; but though I do not pretend to tax my cousin with that fault, yet it is with a great deal of reason that I say she resembles her in her volatile humour.
I was never thought to be ill-humoured in my life, madam, said Miss Glanville, colouring; and I cannot imagine what reason I have given you for saying I am.
Nay, cousin, said Arabella, I am not condemning your humour; for, to say the truth, there are a great many charms in a volatile disposition; and notwithstanding the admirable beauty of Julia, it is possible she made as many slaves by her light and airy carriage, as she did by her eyes, though they were the fairest in the world, except the divine Cleopatra's.
Cleopatra! cried Sir Charles: why she was a gipsy, was she not?
I never heard her called so, said Arabella, gravely; and I am apt to believe you are not at all acquainted with her. But pray, pursued she, let us wave this discourse at present, and prepare to listen to Sir George's relation of his life: which, I dare say, is full of very extraordinary events. However, sir, added she, directing her speech to the young baronet, I am afraid your modesty will induce you to speak with less candour than you ought, of those great actions, which questionless you have performed: therefore we shall hear your history, with greater satisfaction, from the mouth of your faithful squire, who will not have the same reasons that you have for suppressing what is most admirable in the adventures of your life.
Since it is your pleasure, madam, replied Sir George, to hear my adventures, I will recount them as well as I am able myself, to the end that I may have an opportunity of obliging you by doing some violence to my natural modesty, which will not suffer me to relate things the world have been pleased to speak of to my advantage, without some little confusion.
Then, casting down his eyes, he seemed to be recollecting the most material passages in his life. Mr. Glanville, though he could have wished he had not indulged Arabella in her ridiculous request, was not able to deny himself the diversion of hearing what kind of history he would invent; and therefore resolved to stay and listen to him.
Miss Glanville was also highly delighted with the proposal; but Sir Charles, who could not conceive there could be any thing worth listening to, in a young rake's account of himself, got up with an intention to walk in the garden; when perceiving it rained, he changed his resolution, and resuming his seat, prepared to listen, as every one else did, to the expected story.
When Sir George, after having paused a quarter of an hour longer, during which all the company observed a profound silence, began his relation in this manner, addressing himself to Arabella.
Though at present, madam, you behold me in the quality of a private gentleman, in the possession only of a tolerable estate, yet my birth is illustrious enough: my ancestors having formerly worn a crown, which, as they won by their valour, so they lost by their misfortune only.
How! interrupted Sir Charles, are you descended from kings? Why, I never heard you say so before: pray, sir, how far are you removed from royal blood? and which of your forefathers was it that wore a crown?
Sir, replied Sir George, it is not much more than eight hundred years since my ancestors, who were Saxons, swayed the sceptre of Kent; and from the first monarch of that mighty kingdom am I lineally descended.
Pray where may that kingdom of Kent lie? said Sir Charles.
Sir, replied Sir George, it is bounded by Sussex on the south-west; Surrey on the west; the English Channel on the south; Dover Straits on the south-east; and the Downs on the east; and it is divided from Middlesex and Essex on the north by the Thames.
A mighty kingdom, indeed! said Sir Charles: why, it makes but a very small part of the kingdom of Britain now. Well, if your ancestors were kings of that county, as it is now called, it must be confessed their dominions were very small.
However that may be, said Arabella, it raises Sir George greatly in my esteem, to hear he is descended from kings; for, truly, a royal extraction does infinitely set off noble and valiant actions, and inspires only lofty and generous sentiments: therefore, illustrious prince (for in that light I shall always consider you), be assured, though fortune has despoiled you of your dominions, yet since she cannot deprive you of your courage and virtue, Providence will one day assist your noble endeavours to recover your rights, and place you upon the throne of your ancestors, from whence you have been so inhumanly driven; or, haply, to repair that loss, your valour may procure you other kingdoms, no less considerable than that to which you was born.
For Heaven's sake, niece, said Sir Charles, how come such improbable things into your head? Is it such an easy matter, think you, to conquer kingdoms, that you can flatter a young man, who has neither fleets nor armies, with such strange hopes?
The great Artaban, sir, resumed Arabella, had neither fleets nor armies, and was master only of a single sword; yet he soon saw himself greater than any king, disposing the destinies of monarchs by his will, and deciding the fates of empires by a single word. But pray let this dispute rest where it is, and permit Sir George to continue his relation.
It is not necessary, madam, resumed Sir George, to acquaint you with the misfortunes of my family, or relate the several progressions it made towards the private condition in which it now is: for, besides that reciting the events of so many hundred years may haply, in some measure, try your patience, I should be glad if you would dispense with me from entering into a detail of accidents that would sensibly afflict me. It shall suffice, therefore, to inform you, that my father, being a peaceable man, fond of retirement and tranquillity, made no attempts to recover the sovereignty from which his ancestors had been unjustly expelled; but quietly beheld the kingdom of Kent in the possession of other masters, while he contented himself with the improvement of that small pittance of ground, which was all that the unhappy Prince Veridomer, my grandfather, was able to bequeath to him.
Hey-day! cried Sir Charles, will you new-christen your grandfather, when he has been in his grave these forty years? I knew honest Sir Edward Bellmour very well, though I was but a youth when he died; but I believe no person in Kent ever gave him the title of Prince Veridomer. Fie! fie! these are idle brags.
Sir George, without taking notice of the old baronet's heat, went on with his narration in this manner:—
Things were in this state, madam, when I was born. I will not trouble you with the relation of what I did in my infancy.
No, pray skip over all that, interrupted Sir Charles; I suppose your infancy was like other people's; what can there be worth hearing in that?
You are deceived, sir, said Arabella: the infancy of illustrious personages has always something very extraordinary in it; and from their childish words and actions there have been often presages drawn of their future greatness and glory.
Not to disoblige Sir Charles, however, said the young prince of Kent, I will not repeat many things which I said and did in the first years of my life, that those about me thought very surprising; and from them prognosticated that very strange accidents would befall me.
I have been a witness of some very unfavourable prognostics of you, said Sir Charles, smiling; for you was the most unlucky bold spark that ever I knew in my life.
It is very certain, pursued Sir George, that the forwardness of my spirit gave great uneasiness to my father; who being, as I said before, inclinable to a peaceable and sedentary life, endeavoured as much as possible to repress that vivacity in my disposition which he feared might involve me in dangerous enterprises. The pains he took in my education, I recompensed by a more than ordinary docility; and before I was thirteen, performed all my exercises with a marvellous grace; and, if I may dare say so, was, at those early years, the admiration and wonder of all that saw me.
Lady Bella had some reason to fear your modesty, I find, said Sir Charles, smiling; for, methinks you really speak too slightly of your excellencies.
However that may be, resumed Sir George, my father saw these early instances of a towering genius in me, with a pleasure, chastened by his fears, that the grandeur of my courage would lead me to attempt something for the recovery of that kingdom, which was my due; and which might haply occasion his losing me.
Possessed with these thoughts, he carefully avoided saying any thing to me concerning the glorious pretences to which my birth gave me a right; and often wished it had been possible for him to conceal from me, that I was the true and lawful heir of the kingdom of Kent; a circumstance he never chose to mention to any person, and would have been glad if it had always remained a secret.
And so it was a secret, interrupted Sir Charles; for, till this day, I never heard of it; and it might still have been a secret if you had pleased; for nobody, I dare say, would suspect such a thing; and very few, I believe, will be inclined to think there is any thing in such an improbable tale.
Notwithstanding all my father's endeavours to the contrary, madam, pursued Sir George, I cherished those towering sentiments the knowledge of my birth inspired me with; and it was not without the utmost impatience that I brooked the private condition to which I found myself reduced.
Cruel fate! would I sometimes cry; was it not enough to deprive me of that kingdom which is my due, and subject me to a mean and inglorious state; but to make that condition infinitely more grievous, must thou give me a soul towering above my abject fortune? A soul, that cannot but disdain the base submission I must pay to those who triumph in the spoils of my ruined house? A soul, which sees nothing above its hopes and expectations? And, in fine, a soul, that excites me daily to attempt things worthy of my birth, and those noble sentiments I inherit from my great forefathers? Ah! pursued I, unhappy Bellmour, what hinders thee from making thyself known and acknowledged for what thou art? What hinders thee from boldly asserting thy just and natural rights; and from defying the usurper who detains them from thee? What hinders thee, I say?
What? interrupted Sir Charles; why the fear of a halter, I suppose: there is nothing more easy than to answer that question.
Such, madam, said Sir George, were the thoughts which continually disturbed my imagination; and, doubtless, they had not failed to push me on to some hazardous enterprise, had not a fatal passion interposed; and by its sweet but dangerous allurements, stifled for a while that flame which ambition, and the love of glory kindled in my soul.
Sir George here pausing, and fixing his eyes with a melancholy air on the ground, as if pressed with a tender remembrance,—
Mr. Glanville asked him, smiling, if the thoughts of poor Dolly disturbed him? Pray, added he, give us the history of your first love, without any mixture of fable; or shall I take the trouble off you? For you know, I am very well acquainted with your affair with the pretty milk-maid, and can tell it very succinctly.
It is true, sir, said Sir George, sighing, I cannot recall the idea of Dorothea into my remembrance, without some pain: that fair but unfaithful shepherdess, who first taught me to sigh, and repaid my tenderness with the blackest infidelity: yet I will endeavour to compose myself, and go on with my narration.
Be pleased to know then, madam, pursued Sir George, that having my thoughts, in this manner, wholly employed with the disasters of my family, I had arrived to my seventeenth year, without being sensible of the power of love; but the moment now arrived, which was to prove fatal to my liberty. Following the chase one day with my father and some other gentlemen, I happened to lag a little behind them; and, being taken up with my ordinary reflections, I lost my way, and wandered a long time, without knowing or considering whither I was going. Chance at last conducted me to a pleasant valley, surrounded with trees: and, being tired with riding, I alighted, and tying my horse to a tree, walked forward with an intention to repose myself a few moments under the shade of one of those trees that had attracted my observation: but while I was looking for the most convenient place, I spied, at the distance of some few yards from me, a woman lying asleep upon the grass. Curiosity tempted me to go nearer this person; and, advancing softly, that I might not disturb her, I got near enough to have a view of her person: but, ah! heavens! what wonders did my eyes encounter in this view!—--The age of this fair sleeper seemed not to exceed sixteen; her shape was formed with the exactest symmetry; one of her hands supported her head; the other, as it lay carelessly stretched at her side, gave me an opportunity of admiring its admirable colour and proportion. The thin covering upon her neck discovered part of its inimitable beauty to my eyes; but her face, her lovely face, fixed all my attention.
Certain it is, madam, that, out of this company, it would be hard to find any thing so perfect as what I now viewed. Her complexion was the purest white imaginable, heightened by the enchanting glow which dyed her fair cheeks with a colour like that of a new-blown rose: her lips, formed with the greatest perfection, and of a deeper red, seemed to receive new beauties from the fragrance of that breath that parted from them. Her auburn hair fell in loose ringlets over her neck; and some straggling curls, that played upon her fair forehead, set off by a charming contrast the whiteness of that skin it partly hid. Her eyes indeed were closed; and though I knew not whether their colour and beauty were equal to those other miracles in her face, yet their proportion seemed to be large; and the snowy lids, which covered them, were admirably set off by those long and sable lashes that adorned them.
For some moments I gazed upon this lovely sleeper, wholly lost in wonder and admiration.
Where, whispered I, where has this miracle been concealed, that my eyes were never blessed with the sight of her before? These words, though I uttered them softly, and with the utmost caution; yet by the murmuring noise they made, caused an emotion in the beauteous sleeper, that she started, and presently after opened her eyes: but what words shall I find to express the wonder, the astonishment, and rapture, which the sight of those bright stars inspired me with? The flames which darted from those glorious orbs cast such a dazzling splendor upon a sight too weak to bear a radiance so unusual, that stepping back a few paces, I contemplated at a distance, that brightness which began already to kindle a consuming fire in my soul.
Bless me! interrupted Sir Charles, confounded at so pompous a description; who could this be?
The pretty milk-maid, Dolly Acorn, replied Mr. Glanville gravely: did you never see her, sir, when you was at your seat, at ——? She used often to bring cream to my lady.
Aye, aye, replied Sir Charles, I remember her: she was a very pretty girl. And so it was from her eyes that all those splendors and flames came, that had like to have burnt you up, Sir George? Well, well, I guess how the story will end: pray let us hear it out.
I have already told you, madam, resumed Sir George, the marvellous effects the sight of those bright eyes produced upon my spirit. I remained fixed in a posture of astonishment and delight; and all the faculties of my soul were so absorbed in the contemplation of the miracles before me, that I believe, had she still continued before my eyes, I should never have moved from the place where I then stood: but the fair virgin, who had spied me at the small distance to which I was retired, turned hastily about, and flew away with extraordinary swiftness.
When love, now lending me wings, whom admiration had before made motionless, I pursued her so eagerly, that at last I overtook her; and, throwing myself upon my knees before her,—
Stay, I conjure you, cried I; and if you be a divinity, as your celestial beauty makes me believe, do not refuse the adoration I offer you: but if, as I most ardently wish, you are a mortal, though sure the fairest that ever graced the earth; stop a moment to look upon a man, whose respects for you as a mortal fall little short of those adorations he offers you as a goddess.
I can't but think, cried Sir Charles, laughing, how poor Dolly must be surprised at such a rhodomontade speech!
Oh, sir! replied Mr. Glanville, you will find she will make as good a one.
Will she, by my troth? said Sir Charles: I don't know how to believe it.
This action, pursued Sir George, and the words I uttered, a little surprised that fair maid, and brought a blush into her lovely cheeks; but recovering herself, she replied with an admirable grace—
I am no divinity, said she; and therefore your adorations are misplaced: but if, as you say, my countenance moves you to any respect for me, give me a proof of it, by not endeavouring to hold any further discourse with me, which is not permitted me from one of your sex and appearance.
A very wise answer, indeed! interrupted Sir Charles again. Very few town-ladies would have disclaimed the title of goddess, if their lovers had thought proper to bestow it upon them. I am mightily pleased with the girl for her ingenuity.
The discretion of so young a damsel, resumed Sir George, charmed me no less than her beauty; and I besought her, with the utmost earnestness, to permit me a longer conversation with her.
Fear not, lovely virgin, said I, to listen to the vows of a man, who, till he saw you, never learnt to sigh. My heart, which defended its liberty against the charms of many admirable ladies, yields, without reluctance, to the pleasing violence your beauties lay upon me. Yes, too charming and dangerous stranger, I am no longer my own master; it is in your power to dispose of my destiny: consider therefore, I beseech you, whether you can consent to see me die? For I swear to you, by the most sacred oaths, unless you promise to have some compassion on me, I will no longer behold the light of day.
You may easily conceive, madam, that, considering this lovely maid in the character of a shepherdess, in which she appeared, I made her a declaration of my passion, without thinking myself obliged to observe those respects, which to a person of equal rank with myself, decorum would not have permitted me to forget.
However, she repelled my boldness with so charming a modesty, that I began to believe she might be a person of illustrious birth, disguised under the mean habit she wore: but, having requested her to inform me who she was, she told me her name was Dorothea; and that she was daughter to a farmer that lived in the neighbouring valley. This knowledge increasing my confidence, I talked to her of my passion, without being the least afraid of offending her.
And therein you was greatly to blame, said Arabella: for, truly, though the fair Dorothea told you she was daughter to a farmer, yet, in all probability, she was of a much higher extraction, if the picture you have drawn of her be true.
The fair Arsinoe, princess of Armenia, was constrained for a while to conceal her true name and quality, and pass for a simple country-woman, under the name of Delia: yet the generous Philadelph, prince of Cilicia, who saw and loved her under that disguise, treated her with all the respect he would have done, had he known she was the daughter of a king. In like manner, Prince Philoxipes, who fell in love with the beautiful Policrete, before he knew she was the daughter of the great Solon; and while he looked upon her as a poor stranger, born of mean parents; nevertheless, his love supplying the want of those advantages of birth and fortune, he wooed her with a passion as full of awe and delicacy as if her extraction had been equal to his own. And therefore those admirable qualities the fair Dorothea possessed might also have convinced you she was not what she seemed, but haply, some great princess in disguise.
To tell you the truth, madam, replied Sir George, notwithstanding the fair Dorothea informed me she was of a mean descent, I could not easily forego the opinion that she was of an illustrious birth; and the histories of those fair princesses you have mentioned coming into my mind, I also thought it very possible, that this divine person might either be the daughter of a great king, or law-giver, like them. But, being wholly engrossed by the violence of my new-born affection, I listened to nothing but what most flattered my hopes; and, addressing my lovely shepherdess with all the freedom of a person who thinks his birth much superior to hers, she listened to my protestations without any seeming reluctance, and condescended to assure me before we parted, that she did not hate me. So fair a beginning, seemed to promise me the most favourable fortune I could with reason expect. I parted from my fair shepherdess with a thousand vows of fidelity; exacting a promise from her, that she would meet me as often as she conveniently could, and have the goodness to listen to those assurances of inviolable tenderness my passion prompted me to offer her. When she left me, it seemed as if my soul had forsaken my body to go after her: my eyes pursued her steps as long as she was in sight; I envied the ground she pressed as she went along, and the breezes that kissed that celestial countenance in their flight.
For some hours I stood in the same posture in which she had left me; contemplating the sudden change I had experienced in my heart, and the beauty of that divine image, which was now engraved in it. Night drawing on, I began to think of going home; and, untying my horse, I returned the way I had come; and at last struck into a road which brought me to the place where I parted from the company; from whence I easily found my way home, so changed both in my looks and carriage, that my father, and all my friends, observed the alteration with some surprise.
For some months, continued Sir George, I prosecuted my addresses to the admirable Dorothea; and I flattered myself with a hope that I had made some progress in her heart: but, alas! this deceitful fair-one, who only laughed at the torments she made me endure, at the time she vowed eternal constancy to me, gave her hand to a lover of her father's providing, and abandoned me, without remorse, to the most cruel despair.
I will not trouble you, madam, with the repetition of those complaints which this perfidious action drew from me for a long time. At length, my courage enabling me to overcome the violence of my grief, I resolved to think of the ungrateful Dorothea no more; and the sight of another beauty completing my cure, I no longer remembered the unfaithful shepherdess but with indifference.
Thus, madam, have I faithfully related one of those infidelities wherewith my enemies slander me; who can support their assertion with no better proof than that I did not die when Dorothea abandoned me: but I submit it to your candour, whether an unfaithful mistress deserved such an instance of affection from a lover she had betrayed?
Why, really, replied Arabella, after a little pause, you had some excuse to plead for your failure in this point: and though you cannot be called the most perfect amongst lovers, seeing you neither died nor was in danger of dying, yet neither ought you to be ranked among those who are most culpable. But pray proceed in your story: I shall be better able to form a right judgment of your merit as a lover, when I have heard all your adventures.
My passion for Dorothea, resumed Sir George, being cured by her treachery towards me, the love of glory began again to revive in my soul. I panted after some occasion to signalize my valour, which yet I had met with no opportunity of doing; but hearing that a mighty army was preparing to march upon a secret expedition, I privately quitted my father's seat; and attended only by my faithful squire, I took the same route the army had taken, and arrived the day before the terrible battle of —— was fought, where, without making myself known, I performed such prodigies of valour as astonished all who beheld me. Without doubt I should have been highly caressed by the commander, who certainly would have given me the honour of a victory my sword alone had procured for him; but having unwittingly engaged myself too far in pursuit of the flying enemy, I found myself alone, encompassed with a party of about five hundred men; who seeing they were pursued only by a single man, faced about, and prepared to kill or take me prisoner.
Pray, sir, interrupted Sir Charles, when did all this happen? And how came it to pass that your friends have been ignorant to this moment of those prodigies of valour you performed at that battle? I never heard you was ever in a battle: fame has done you great injustice, by concealing the part you had in that famous victory.
The great care I took to conceal myself, replied Sir George, was one reason why my friends did not attribute to me the exploits which the knight in black armour, who was no other than myself, performed; and the accident I am going to relate prevented my being discovered, while the memory of those great exploits were yet fresh in the minds of those I had so greatly obliged.
Be pleased to know, therefore, madam, that seeing myself about to be encompassed by this party of the enemy, I disdained to fly; and, though I was alone, resolved to sustain their attack, and sell my life as dear as possible.
Why, if you did so, you was a madman, cried Sir Charles, in a heat: the bravest man that ever lived would not have presumed to fight with so great a number of enemies. What could you expect but to be cut in pieces? Pooh! pooh! don't think any body will credit such a ridiculous tale: I never knew you was so addicted to—
Lying, perhaps, the good knight would have said; but Sir George, who was concerned he was present at his legend, and could not blame him for doubting his veracity, prevented his utterance of a word he would be obliged to take ill, by abruptly going on with his story.
Placing my back therefore against a tree, pursued he, to prevent my being assaulted behind, I presented my shield to the boldest of these assailants; who, having struck an impotent blow upon it, as he was lifting up his arm to renew his attack, I cut it off with one stroke of my sword; and the same instant plunged it to the hilt in the breast of another, and clove the skull of a third, who was making at me, in two parts.
Sir Charles, at this relation, burst into a loud fit of laughter; and, being more inclined to divert himself than be offended at the folly and vanity of the young baronet, he permitted him to go on with his surprising story, without giving him any other interruption.
These three executions, madam, pursued Sir George, were the effects only of so many blows; which raised such indignation in my enemies, that they pressed forward in great numbers to destroy me; but having, as I before said, posted myself so advantageously, that I could only be assaulted before, not more than three or four could attack me at one time. The desire of lengthening out my life, till happily some succour might come to my relief, so invigorated my arm, and added to my ordinary strength an almost irresistible force, that I dealt death at every blow; and in less than a quarter of an hour, saw more than fifty of my enemies at my feet, whose bodies served for a bulwark against their fellows' swords.
The commander of this little body, not having generosity enough to be moved with these prodigious effects of valour in my favour, was transported with rage at my resistance; and the sight of so many of his men slain before his face, served only to increase his fury: and that moment, seeing that, with two more blows, I had sent two of his most valiant soldiers to the shades, and that the rest, fearing to come within the length of my sword, had given me a few moments respite—
Ah! cowards! cried he, are you afraid of a single man? And will you sufferhimto escape from your vengeance, who has slain so many of your brave comrades before your eyes?
These words inspiring them with a fierceness such as he desired, they advanced towards me with more fury than before. By this time, I had received several large wounds, and my blood ran down from many parts of my body: yet was I not sensible of any decay of strength, nor did the settled designs of my enemies to destroy me daunt me in the least. I still relied upon the assistance I expected Providence would send to my relief, and determined, if possible, to preserve my life till it arrived.
I fought, therefore, with a resolution which astonished my enemies, but did not move them to any regard for my safety: and observing their brutal commander a few paces from me encouraging his men, both with his cries and gestures, indignation against this inhuman wretch so transported me out of my discretion, that I quitted my post, in order to sacrifice him to my revenge.
Seeing me advance furiously towards him, he turned pale with fear, and endeavoured to shelter himself in the midst of his men; who, more valiant than himself, opposed themselves to my rage to favour his retreat; but quickly clearing myself a way with my sword, I pressed towards the barbarous coward; and, ere he could avoid the blow I aimed at him, it struck him senseless at my feet.
My particular revenge thus satisfied, I was sensible of the fault I had committed in quitting my post, by which I exposed myself to be surrounded by the enemy. I endeavoured to regain it, but in vain: I was beset on all sides, and now despaired of any safety; and therefore only sought to die courageously, and make as many of my enemies as I could attend my fall.
Exasperated by the misfortune of their commander, they pressed upon me with redoubled fury. Faint as I was with the loss of blood, and so fatigued with the past action, and the obstinate fight I had maintained so long with such a considerable number, I could hardly any longer lift up my arm; and, to complete my misfortune, having thrust my sword into the body of one of the forwardest of my enemies, in my endeavouring to regain it, it broke in pieces, and the hilt only remained in my hand.
This accident completed my defeat: deprived of my sword, I was no longer capable of making any defence: several of them pressed upon me at once; and, throwing me down, tied my hands together behind me. Shame and rage at this indignity worked so forcibly upon my spirits, weakened as I then was, that I fell into a swoon. What happened till my recovery I am not able to tell; but at the return of my senses, I found myself laid on a bed in a tolerable chamber, and some persons with me, who kept a profound silence.
Recollecting in a few moments all that happened to me, I could not choose but be surprised at finding myself treated with so little severity, considering I was prisoner to persons who had been witnesses of the great quantity of blood I had shed in my own defence. My wounds had been dressed while I continued in my swoon; and the faces of those persons who were about me expressed nothing of unkindness.
After reflecting some time longer on my situation, I called to a young man who sat near my bed-side, and entreated him to inform me where I was, and to whom I was a prisoner; but could get no other answer to those questions than a most civil entreaty to compose myself, and not protract the cure of my wounds by talking; which the surgeons had declared would be of a bad consequence, and had therefore ordered me to be as little disturbed as possible.
Notwithstanding this remonstrance, I repeated my request, promising to be entirely governed by them for the future in what regarded my health, provided they would satisfy me in those particulars. But my attendant did not so much as reply to those importunities; but to prevent the continuance of them, rose from his seat, and retired to the other end of the chamber.
I passed that day, and several others, without being able to learn the truth of my condition. All this time I was diligently waited on by the two persons I had first seen, neither of whom I could prevail upon to inform me of what I desired to know; and judging by this obstinate reserve, and the manner of my treatment, that there was some mystery in the case, I forbore to ask them any more questions, conceiving they had particular orders not to answer them.
The care that was taken to forward my cure, in three weeks entirely restored me to health. I longed impatiently to know what was to be my destiny; and busied myself in conjecturing it in vain; when one morning, an elderly lady entered my chamber, at whose appearance my two attendants retired.
After she had saluted me very civilly, and enquired after my health, she seated herself in a chair near my bed-side, and spoke to me in this manner—
I make no question, sir, but you are surprised at the manner in which you have been treated, and the care there has been taken to prevent discovering to you the place where you now are; but you will doubtless be more surprised to hear you are in the fortress of ——, and in the house of Prince Marcomire, whose party you fought against alone; and whom you so dangerously wounded, before you was taken prisoner by his men.
Is it possible, madam, said I, who from the first moment of her appearance had been in a strange perplexity—is it possible I am in the house of a man whose life I endeavoured so eagerly to destroy? And is it to him, who oppressed me so basely with numbers, that I am obliged for the succour I have received?
It is not to him, replied the lady, that you are obliged for the favourable treatment you have had; but listen to me patiently, and I will disclose the truth of your adventure.
Prince Marcomire, who was the person that headed that party against which you so valiantly defended yourself, after the loss of the battle, was hastening to throw himself into this place, where his sister, and many ladies of quality, had come for security: your indiscreet pursuit engaged you in the most unequal combat that ever was fought; and——
Nay, sir, interrupted Arabella, though I do not refuse to give you all the praises your gallant defence of yourself against five hundred men deserves; yet I cannot agree with that lady, in saying, it was the most unequal combat that ever was fought: for, do but reflect, I beseech you, upon that which the brave prince of Mauritania sustained against twice that number of men, with no other arms than his sword; and, you having been in battle that day, was, as I conceive, completely armed. The young prince of Egypt, accompanied only by the valiant, but indiscreet, Cepio his friend, engaged all the king of Armenia's guards, and put them all to flight. The courageous Ariobarsanes scorned to turn his back upon a whole army; not to mention the invincible Artaban, whom a thousand armies together could not have made to turn.
Be pleased to observe, madam, said Sir George, that to the end I may faithfully recount my history, I am under the necessity of repeating things which, haply, may seem too advantageous for a man to say of himself: therefore I indeed greatly approve of the custom, which, no doubt, this inconveniency introduced, of a squire, who is thoroughly instructed with the secrets of his master's heart, relating his adventures, and giving a proper eulogium of his rare valour, without being in danger of offending the modesty of the renowned knight; who, as you know, madam, upon those occasions, commodiously slips away.
It being, however, this lady's opinion, that no man ever undertook a more hazardous combat, or with greater odds against him, she did not fail to express her admiration of it in very high terms.
The noise of this accident, pursued she, was soon spread over the whole town; and the beautiful Sydimiris, Marcomire's sister, hearing that her brother was wounded, as it was thought, to death, and that the person who killed him was taken prisoner, she flew out to meet her wounded brother, distracted with grief, and vowing to have the severest tortures executed on him who had thus barbarously murdered her brother. Those who bore that unhappy prince, having brought him into the house, his wounds were searched; and the surgeons declared they were very dangerous.
Sydimiris, hearing this, redoubled her complaints and vows of vengeance against you: her brother having then the chief authority in the place, she commanded, in his name, to have you brought hither, and to be most strictly guarded; determined, if her brother died, to sacrifice you to his ghost.
Full of these sanguinary resolutions, she left his chamber, having seen him laid in bed, and his wounds dressed; but passing along a gallery to her own apartment, she met the persons who were bringing you to the room that was to be your prison. You was not, pursued the lady, yet recovered from your swoon, so that they carried you like one that was dead: they had taken off your helmet to give you air; by which means your face being quite uncovered, pale, languishing, and your eyes closed, as if in death, presented the most moving, and, at the same time, most pleasing object in the world.
Sydimiris, who stopped, and for a moment eagerly gazed upon you, lost all of a sudden the fierceness which before had animated her against you; and lifting up her eyes to view those men that carried you—
Are you sure, said she to them, that this is the person who wounded my brother?
Yes, madam, replied one of them: this must be he, since there was no other in his company; and he alone sustained the attack of five hundred men; and would probably not have left one of them alive, had not his sword, by breaking, put it into our power to take him prisoner.
Carry him away, said Sydimiris; but let his wounds be dressed, and let him be carefully looked to, that, if my brother dies, he may be punished as he deserves.
Pronouncing these words in a low and faltering voice, she turned her eyes a second time upon you; then, hastily averting her looks, she hurried to her own chamber, and threw herself into a chair, with all the marks of a very great disturbance.