As soon as the ladies entered the room, Mr. Selvin, with more gaiety than usual, advanced towards Arabella, who put on so cold and severe a countenance at his approach, that the poor man, extremely confused, drew back, and remained in great perplexity, fearing he had offended her.
Mr. Tinsel, seeing Mr. Selvin's reception, and awed by the becoming majesty in her person, notwithstanding all his assurance, accosted her with less confidence than was his custom; but Arabella softening her looks with the most engaging smiles, made an apology for detaining them so long from the parade, gave her hand to the beau, as being not a suspected person, and permitted him to lead her out; Mr. Glanville, to whom she always allowed the preference on those occasions, being a little indisposed, and not able to attend her.
Mr. Tinsel, whose vanity was greatly flattered by the preference Arabella gave him to his companion, proceeded, according to his usual custom, to examine her looks and behaviour with more care; conceiving such a preference must proceed, from a latent motive which was not unfavourable for him. His discernment on these occasions being very surprising, he soon discovered in the bright eyes of Arabella a secret approbation of his person, which he endeavoured to increase by displaying it with all the address he was master of, and did not fail to talk her into an opinion of his wit, by ridiculing every body that passed them, and directing several studied compliments to herself.
Miss Glanville, who was not so agreeably entertained by the grave Mr. Selvin, saw these advances to a gallantry with her cousin with great disturbance. She was resolved to interrupt it, if possible; and being convinced Mr. Selvin preferred Arabella's conversation to hers, she plotted how to pair them together, and have the beau to herself.
As they walked a few paces behind her cousin and Mr. Tinsel, she was in no danger of being overheard; and taking occasion to put Mr. Selvin in mind of Arabella's behaviour to him, when he accosted her, she asked him if he was conscious of having done any thing to offend her?
I protest, madam, replied Mr. Selvin, I know not of any thing I have done to displease her. I never failed, to my knowledge, in my respects towards her ladyship, for whom indeed I have a most profound veneration.
I know so much of her temper, resumed Miss Glanville, as to be certain, if she has taken it into her head to be angry with you, she will be ten times more so at your indifference; and if you hope for her favour, you must ask her pardon with the most earnest submission imaginable.
If I knew I had offended her, replied Mr. Selvin, I would very willingly ask her pardon; but really, since I have not been guilty of any fault towards her ladyship, I don't know how to acknowledge it.
Well, said Miss Glanville coldly, I only took the liberty to give you some friendly advice, which you may follow, or not, as you please. I know my cousin is angry at something, and I wish you were friends again, that's all.
I am mightily obliged to you, madam, said Mr. Selvin; and since you assure me her ladyship is angry, I'll ask her pardon, though, really, as I said before, I don't know for what.
Well, interrupted Miss Glanville, we'll join them at the end of the parade; and to give you an opportunity speaking to my cousin, I'll engage Mr. Tinsel myself.
Mr. Selvin, who thought himself greatly obliged to Miss Glanville for her good intentions, though in reality she had a view of exposing her cousin, as well as an inclination to engage Mr. Tinsel, took courage as they turned, to get on the other side of Arabella, whom he had not dared before to approach; while Miss Glanville, addressing a whisper of no great importance to her cousin, parted her from the beau, and slackening her pace a little, fell into a particular discourse with him, which Arabella being too polite to interrupt, remained in a very perplexing situation, dreading every moment that Mr. Selvin would explain himself; alarmed at his silence, yet resolved to interrupt him if he began to speak, and afraid of beginning a conversation first lest he should construe it to his advantage.
Mr. Selvin being naturally timid in the company of ladies, the circumstance of disgrace which he was in with Arabella, her silence and reserve, so added to his accustomed diffidence, that though he endeavoured several times to speak, he was not able to bring out anything but a preluding hem; which he observed, to his extreme confusion, seemed always to increase Arabella's constraint.
Indeed, that lady, upon any suspicion that he was going to break his mysterious silence, always contracted her brow into a frown, cast down her eyes with an air of perplexity, endeavoured to hide her blushes with her fan; and to show her inattention, directed her looks to the contrary side.
The lady and gentleman being in equal confusion, no advances were made on either side towards a conversation, and they had reached almost the end of the parade in an uninterrupted silence; when Mr. Selvin, fearing he should never again have so good an opportunity of making his peace, collected all his resolution, and with an accent trembling under the importance of the speech he was going to make, began—
Madam, since I have had the honour of walking with your ladyship, I have observed so many signs of constraint in your manner, that I hardly dare entreat you to grant me a moment's hearing, while I——
Sir, interrupted Arabella, before you go any further, I must inform you, that what you are going to say will mortally offend me. Take heed then how you commit any indiscretion which will force me to treat you very rigorously.
If your ladyship will not allow me to speak in my own justification, said Mr. Selvin, yet I hope you will not refuse to tell me my offence: since I——
You are very confident, indeed, interrupted Arabella again, to suppose I will repeat what would be infinitely grievous for me to hear. Against my will, pursued she, I must give you the satisfaction to know, that I am not ignorant of your crime: but I also assure you that I am highly incensed; and that not only with the thoughts you have dared to entertain of me, but likewise with your presumption in going about to disclose them.
Mr. Selvin, whom the seeming contradictions in this speech astonished, yet imagined in general it hinted at the dispute between him and Mr. Tinsel; and supposing the story had been told to his disadvantage, which was the cause of her anger, replied in great emotion at the injustice done him—
Since somebody has been so officious to acquaint your ladyship with an affair which ought to have been kept from your knowledge; it is a pity they did not inform you, that Mr. Tinsel was the person that had the least respect for your ladyship, and is more worthy of your resentment.
If Mr. Tinsel, replied Arabella, is guilty of an offence like yours, yet since he has concealed it better, he is less culpable than you; and you have done that for him, which haply he would never have had courage enough to do for himself as long as he lived.
Poor Selvin, quite confounded at these intricate words, would have begged her to explain herself, had she not silenced him with a dreadful frown; and making a stop till Miss Glanville and Mr. Tinsel came up to them, she told her cousin with a peevish accent, that she had performed her promise very ill; and whispered her, that she was to blame for all the mortifications she had suffered.
Mr. Tinsel, supposing the alteration in Arabella's humour proceeded from being so long deprived of his company; endeavoured to make her amends by a profusion of compliments; which she received with such an air of displeasure, that the beau, vexed at the ill success of his gallantry, told her, he was afraid Mr. Selvin's gravity had infected her ladyship.
Say rather, replied Arabella, that his indiscretion has offended me.
Mr. Tinsel, charmed with this beginning confidence, which confirmed his hopes of having made some impression on her heart; conjured her very earnestly to tell him how Mr. Selvin had offended her.
It is sufficient, resumed she, that I tell you he has offended me, without declaring the nature of his crime, since doubtless it has not escaped your observation, which, if I may believe him, is not wholly disinterested. To confess yet more, it is true that he hath told me something concerning you, which—
Let me perish, madam, interrupted the beau, if one syllable he has said be true.
How! said Arabella, a little disconcerted: will you always persist in a denial then?
Deny it, madam! returned Mr. Tinsel, I'll deny what he has said with my last breath. It is all a scandalous forgery: no man living is less likely to think of your ladyship in that manner. If you knew my thoughts, madam, you would be convinced nothing is more impossible, and——
Sir, interrupted Arabella, extremely mortified, methinks you are very eager in your justification. I promise you, I do not think you guilty of the offence he charged you with; if I did, you would haply experience my resentment in such a manner as would make you repent of your presumption.
Arabella, in finishing these words, interrupted Miss Glanville's discourse with Mr. Selvin, to tell her she desired to return home; to which that young lady, who had not been at all pleased with the morning's walk, consented.
As soon as the ladies were come to their lodgings, Arabella went up to her own apartment to meditate upon what had passed, and Miss Glanville retired to dress for dinner; while the two gentlemen, who thought they had great reason to be dissatisfied with each other, on account of Lady Bella's behaviour, went to a coffee-house, in order to come to some explanation about it.
Well, sir, said the beau, with a sarcastic air, I am greatly obliged to you for the endeavours you have used to ruin me in Lady Bella's opinion. Rat me, if it is not the greatest misfortune in the world, to give occasion for envy.
Envy, sir! interrupted Mr. Selvin: I protest I do really admire your great skill in stratagems, but I do not envy you the possession of it. You have indeed very wittily contrived to put your own sentiments of that lady, which you delivered so freely the other night, into my mouth. It was a master-piece of cunning, indeed; and, as I said before, I admire your skill prodigiously.
I don't know what you mean, replied Tinsel: you talk in riddles. Did you not yourself acquaint Lady Bella with the preference I gave Miss Glanville to her? What would you propose by such a piece of treachery? You have ruined all my hopes by it: the lady resents it excessively, and it is no wonder, faith; it must certainly mortify her. Upon my soul, I can never forgive thee for somal à proposa discovery.
Forgive me, sir! replied Selvin, in a rage: I don't want your forgiveness. I have done nothing unbecoming a man of honour. The lady was so prejudiced by your insinuations, that she would not give me leave to speak; otherwise I would have fully informed her of her mistake, that she might have known how much she was obliged to you.
So she would not hear thee? interrupted Tinsel, laughing: dear soul! how very kind was that! Faith, I don't know how it is, but I am very lucky, without deserving to be so. Thou art a witness for me, Frank, I took no great pains to gain this fine creature's heart; but it was damn'd malicious though, to attempt to make discoveries. I see she is a little piqued, but I'll set all to rights again with abillet-doux. I've an excellent hand, though I say it, at abillet-doux. I never knew one of mine fail in my life.
Harkee, sir, said Selvin, whispering: any more attempts to shift your sentiments upon me, and you shall hear of it. In the mean time, be assured, I'll clear myself, and put the saddle upon the right horse!
Demme, if thou art not a queer fellow, said Tinsel, endeavouring to hide his discomposure at this threat under a forced laugh.
Selvin, without making any reply, retired to write to Arabella; which Tinsel suspecting, resolved to be before-hand with him: and without leaving the coffee-house, called for paper, and wrote a billet to her, which he dispatched away immediately.
The messenger had just got admittance to Lucy, when another arrived from Selvin.
They both presented their letters; but Lucy refused them, saying, her lady would turn her away, if she received such sort of letters.
Such sort of letters! returned Tinsel's man. Why, do you know what they contain, then?
To be sure I do, replied Lucy; they are love-letters; and my lady has charged me never to receive any more.
Well, replied Selvin's servant, you may take my letter; for my master desired me to tell you it was about business of consequence, which your lady must be acquainted with.
Since you assure me it is not a love-letter, I'll take it, said Lucy.
And pray take mine too, said Tinsel's Mercury; for I assure you, it is not a love-letter neither; it's only abillet-doux.
Are you sure of that? replied Lucy: because I may venture to take it, I fancy, if it is what you say.
I'll swear it, said the man, delivering it to her. Well, said she, receiving it, I'll take them both up. But what did you call this? pursued she. I must not forget it, or else my lady will think it a love-letter.
Abillet-doux, said the man.
Lucy, for fear she should forget it, repeated the wordsbillet-douxseveral times as she went up stairs; but entering her lady's apartment, she, perceiving the letters in her hand, asked her so sternly how she durst presume to bring them into her presence, that the poor girl in her fright forgot the lesson she had been conning; and endeavouring to recall it into her memory, took no notice of her lady's question, which she repeated several times, but to no purpose.
Arabella, surprised at her inattention, reiterated her commands in a tone somewhat louder than usual; asking her at the same time, why she did not obey her immediately?
Indeed, madam, replied Lucy, your ladyship would not order me to take back the letters, if you knew what they were. They are not love-letters: I was resolved to be sure of that before I took them. This, madam, is a letter about business of consequence; and the other——Oh dear! I can't think what the man called it! But it is not a love-letter, indeed, madam.
You are a simple wench, said Arabella, smiling. You may depend upon it, all letters directed to me must contain matters of love and gallantry; and those I am not permitted to receive. Take them away then immediately. But stay, pursued she, seeing she was about to obey her: one of them, you say, was delivered to you as a letter of consequence. Perhaps it is so: indeed, it may contain an advertisement of some design to carry me away. How do I know but Mr. Selvin, incited by his love and despair, may intend to make such an attempt? Give me that letter, Lucy, I am resolved to open it. As for the other——yet, who knows but the other may also bring me warning of the same danger from another quarter! The pains Mr. Tinsel took to conceal his passion, nay, almost as I think, to deny it, amounts to a proof that he is meditating some way to make sure of me. It is certainly so. Give me that letter, Lucy; I should be accessary to their intended violence, if I neglected this timely discovery.
Well, cried she, taking one of the letters, this is exactly like what happened to the beautiful princess of Cappadocia; who, like me, in one and the same day, received advice that two of her lovers intended to carry her off.
As she pronounced these words, Miss Glanville entered the room, to whom Arabella immediately recounted the adventure of the letters; telling her she did not doubt but that they contained a discovery of some conspiracy to carry her away.
And whom does your ladyship suspect of such a strange design, pray? said Miss Glanville, smiling.
At present, replied Arabella, the two cavaliers who walked with us to-day are the persons who seem the most likely to attempt that violence.
I dare answer for Mr. Tinsel, replied Miss Glanville: he thinks of no such thing.
Well, said Arabella, to convince you of your mistake, I must inform you, that Mr. Selvin, having the presumption to begin a declaration of love to me on the parade this morning, I reproved him severely for his want of respect, and threatened him with my displeasure. In the rage of his jealousy, at seeing me treat Mr. Tinsel well, he discovered to me that he also was as criminal as himself, in order to oblige me to a severer usage of him.
So he told you Mr. Tinsel was in love with you? interrupted Miss Glanville.
He told it me in other words, replied Arabella; for he said Mr. Tinsel was guilty of that offence which I resented so severely to him.
Miss Glanville, beginning to comprehend the mystery, with great difficulty forbore laughing at her cousin's mistake; for she well knew the offence of which Mr. Selvin hinted at, and desirous of knowing what those letters contained, she begged her to delay opening them no longer.
Arabella, pleased at her solicitude, opened one of the letters; but glancing her eye to the bottom, and seeing the name of Selvin, she threw it hastily upon the table, and averting her eyes, What a mortification have I avoided! said she, that letter is from Selvin; and, questionless, contains an avowal of his crime.
Nay, you must read it, cried Miss Glanville, taking it up; since you have opened it, it is the same thing. You can never persuade him but you have seen it. However, to spare your nicety, I'll read it to you. Which accordingly she did, and found it as follows:—
"MADAM,"I know not what insinuations have been made use of to persuade you I was guilty of the offence which, with justice, occasioned your resentment this morning; but I assure you, nothing was ever more false. My thoughts of your ladyship are very different, and full of the profoundest respect and veneration. I have reason to suspect Mr. Tinsel is the person who has thus endeavoured to prejudice me with your ladyship; therefore I am excusable if I tell you, that those very sentiments, too disrespectful to be named, which he would persuade you are mine, he discovered himself. He then, madam, is the person guilty of that offence he so falsely lays to the charge of him, who is, with the utmost respect and esteem, madam, your ladyship's most obedient, and most humble servant,"F. SELVIN."
"MADAM,
"I know not what insinuations have been made use of to persuade you I was guilty of the offence which, with justice, occasioned your resentment this morning; but I assure you, nothing was ever more false. My thoughts of your ladyship are very different, and full of the profoundest respect and veneration. I have reason to suspect Mr. Tinsel is the person who has thus endeavoured to prejudice me with your ladyship; therefore I am excusable if I tell you, that those very sentiments, too disrespectful to be named, which he would persuade you are mine, he discovered himself. He then, madam, is the person guilty of that offence he so falsely lays to the charge of him, who is, with the utmost respect and esteem, madam, your ladyship's most obedient, and most humble servant,
"F. SELVIN."
How's this? cried Miss Glanville. Why, madam, you are certainly mistaken. You see Mr. Selvin utterly denies the crime of loving you. He has suffered very innocently in your opinion. Indeed, your ladyship was too hasty in condemning him.
If what he says be true, replied Arabella, who had been in extreme confusion while a letter so different from what she expected was reading, I have indeed unjustly condemned him. Nevertheless, I am still inclined to believe this is all artifice; and that he is really guilty of entertaining a passion for me.
But why should he take so much pains to deny it, madam? said Miss Glanville. Methinks that looks very odd.
Not at all, interrupted Arabella, whose spirits were raised by recollecting an adventure in a romance similar to this. Mr. Selvin has fallen upon the very same stratagem with Seramenes; who being in love with the beautiful Cleobuline, princess of Corinth, took all imaginable pains to conceal his passion, in order to be near that fair princess; who would have banished him from her presence, had she known he was in love with her. Nay, he went so far in his dissimulation, as to pretend love to one of the ladies of her court; that his passion for the princess might be the less taken notice of. In these cases therefore, the more resolutely a man denies his passion, the more pure and violent it is.
Then Mr. Selvin's passion is certainly very violent, replied Miss Glanville, for he denies it very resolutely; and I believe none but your ladyship would have discovered his artifice. But shall we not open the other letter? I have a strong notion it comes from Tinsel.
For that very reason I would not be acquainted with the contents, replied Arabella. You see Mr. Selvin accuses him of being guilty of that offence which he denies. I shall doubtless meet with a confirmation of his love in that letter. Do not, I beseech you, added she, seeing her cousin preparing to open the letter, expose me to the pain of hearing a presumptuous declaration of love. Nay, pursued she, rising in great emotion, if you are resolved to persecute me by reading it, I'll endeavour to get out of the hearing of it.
You shan't, I declare, said Miss Glanville, laughing and holding her: I'll oblige you to hear it.
I vow, cousin, said Arabella smiling, you use me just as the princess Cleopatra did the fair and wise Antonia. However, if by this you mean to do any kindness to the unfortunate person who wrote that billet, you are greatly mistaken; since, if you oblige me to listen to a declaration of his crime, you will lay me under a necessity to banish him. A sentence he would have avoided, while I remained ignorant of it.
To this Miss Glanville made no other reply than by opening the billet, the contents of which may be found in the following chapter.
"MADAM,"I had the honour to assure you this morning on the parade, that the insinuations Mr. Selvin made use of to rob me of the superlative happiness of your esteem were entirely false and groundless. May the beams of your bright eyes never shine on me more, if there is any truth in what he said to prejudice me with your ladyship! If I am permitted to attend you to the rooms this evening, I hope to convince you, that it was absolutely impossible I could have been capable of such a crime; who am, with the most profound respect, your ladyship's most devoted, &c."D. TINSEL."
"MADAM,
"I had the honour to assure you this morning on the parade, that the insinuations Mr. Selvin made use of to rob me of the superlative happiness of your esteem were entirely false and groundless. May the beams of your bright eyes never shine on me more, if there is any truth in what he said to prejudice me with your ladyship! If I am permitted to attend you to the rooms this evening, I hope to convince you, that it was absolutely impossible I could have been capable of such a crime; who am, with the most profound respect, your ladyship's most devoted, &c.
"D. TINSEL."
Well, madam, said Miss Glanville when she had read this epistle, I fancy you need not pronounce a sentence of banishment upon poor Mr. Tinsel; he seems to be quite innocent of the offence your ladyship suspects him of.
Why, really, returned Arabella, blushing with extreme confusion at this second disappointment, I am greatly perplexed to know how I ought to act on this occasion. I am much in the same situation with the princess Serena. For, you must know, this princess—Here Lucy entering, informed the ladies dinner was served—I shall defer till another opportunity, said Arabella, upon this interruption, the relation of the princess Serena's adventures; which you will find, added she, in a low voice, bear a very great resemblance to mine.
Miss Glanville replied, she would hear it whenever she pleased; and then followed Arabella to the dining-room.
The cloth was scarce removed, when Mr. Selvin came in. Arabella blushed at his appearance, and discovered so much perplexity in her behaviour, that Mr. Selvin was apprehensive he had not yet sufficiently justified himself; and therefore took the first opportunity to approach her.
I shall think myself very unhappy, madam, said he bowing, if the letter I did myself the honour to write to you this morning——
Sir, interrupted Arabella, I perceive you are going to forget the contents of that letter, and preparing again to offend me by a presumptuous declaration of love.
Who, I, madam! replied he, in great astonishment and confusion. I-I-I protest—though I—have a very great respect for your ladyship, yet—yet I never presumed to—to—to—
You have presumed too much, replied Arabella; and I should forget what I owed to my own glory, if I furnished you with any more occasions of offending me.—Know then, I absolutely forbid you to appear before me again, at least till I am convinced you have changed your sentiments.
Saying this, she rose from her seat, and making a sign to him not to follow her, which indeed he had no intention to do, she quitted the room, highly satisfied with her own conduct upon this occasion, which was exactly conformable to the laws of romance.
Mr. Tinsel, who had just alighted from his chair, having a glimpse of her, as she passed to her own apartment, resolved, if possible, to procure a private interview; for he did not doubt but his billet had done wonders in his favour.
For that purpose he ventured up to her antechamber, where he found Lucy in waiting, whom he desired to acquaint her lady, that he entreated a moment's speech with her.
Lucy, after hesitating a moment, and looking earnestly at him, replied, Sir, if you'll promise me faithfully, you are not in love with my lady, I'll go and deliver your message.
Deuce take me, said Tinsel, if that is not a very whimsical condition truly——Pray, my dear, how came it into thy little brain, to suspect I was in love with thy lady? But, suppose I should be in love with her, what then?
Why then, it is likely you would die, that's all, said Lucy, without my lady would be so kind to command you to live.
I vow thou hast mighty pretty notions, child, said Tinsel, smiling. Hast thou been reading any play-book lately? But pray, dost think thy lady would have compassion on me, if I was in love with her? Come, I know thou art in her confidence: hast thou ever heard her talk of me? Does she not tell thee all her secrets?
Here Arabella's bell ringing, the beau slipped half a guinea into her hand, which Lucy not willing to refuse, went immediately to her lady; to whom, with a trembling accent, she repeated Mr. Tinsel's request.
Imprudent girl! cried Arabella, for I am loth to suspect thee of disloyalty to thy mistress, dost thou know the nature and extent of the request thou hast delivered? Art thou ignorant that the presumptuous man whom thou solicitest this favour for, has mortally offended me?
Indeed, madam, said Lucy, frightened out of her wits, I don't solicit for him: I scorn to do any such thing. I would not offend your ladyship for the world; for, before I would deliver his message to your ladyship, I made him assure me, that he was not in love with your ladyship.
That was very wisely done indeed, replied Arabella, smiling: and do you believe he spoke the truth?
Yes, indeed, I am sure of it, said Lucy, eagerly. If your ladyship will but be pleased to see him, he is only in the next room; I dare promise——
How! interrupted Arabella. What have you done? Have you brought him into my apartment, then? I protest this adventure is exactly like what befell the beautiful Statira, when, by a stratagem of the same kind Oroondates was introduced into her presence. Lucy, thou art another Barsina, I think; but I hope thy intentions are not less innocent than hers were.
Indeed, madam, replied Lucy, almost weeping, I am very innocent. I am no Barsina, as your ladyship calls me.
I dare answer for thee, said Arabella, smiling at the turn she gave to her words, thou art no Barsina; and I should wrong thee very much to compare thee with that wise princess; for thou art certainly one of the most simple wenches in the world. But since thou hast gone so far, let me know what the unfortunate person desires of me; for, since I am neither more rigid nor pretend to more virtue than Statira, I may do at least as much for him as that great queen did for Oroondates.
He desires, madam, said Lucy, that your ladyship would be pleased to let him speak with you.
Or, in his words, I suppose, replied Arabella, he humbly implored a moment's audience.
I told your ladyship his very words, indeed, madam, said Lucy.
I tell thee, girl, thou art mistaken, said Arabella: it is impossible he should sue for such a favour in terms like those: therefore, go back, and let him know that I consent to grant him a short audience upon these conditions.
First, provided he does not abuse my indulgence by offending me with any protestations of his passion.
Secondly, that he engages to fulfil the injunctions I shall lay upon him, however cruel and terrible they may appear.
Lastly, that his despair must not prompt him to any act of desperation against himself.
Lucy, having received this message, quitted the room hastily, for fear she should forget it.
Well, my pretty ambassadress, said Tinsel, when he saw her enter the antechamber, will your lady see me?
No, sir, replied Lucy.
No! interrupted Tinsel, that's kind, faith, after waiting so long.
Pray, sir, said Lucy, don't put me out so: I shall forget what my lady ordered me to tell you.
Oh! I ask your pardon, child, said Tinsel. Come, let me hear your message.
Sir, said Lucy, adopting the solemnity of her lady's accent—my lady bade me say, that she will grant——No, that she consents to grant you a short dience.
Audience you would say, child, said Tinsel: but how came you to tell me before she would not see me?——
I vow and protest, sir, said Lucy, you have put all my lady's words clean out of my head—I don't know what comes next——
Oh, no matter, said Tinsel, you have told me enough: I'll wait upon her directly.
Lucy, who saw him making towards the door, pressed between it and him; and having all her lady's whims in her head, supposed he was going to carry her away.—Possessed with this thought, she screamed out, Help! help! for Heaven's sake! My lady will be carried away!
Arabella hearing this exclamation of her woman's, echoed her screams, though with a voice infinitely more delicate; and seeing Tinsel, who, confounded to the last degree at the cries of both the lady and her woman, had got into her chamber he knew not how, she gave herself over for lost, and fell back in her chair in a swoon, or something she took for a swoon, for she was persuaded it could happen no otherwise; since all ladies in the same circumstances are terrified into a fainting fit, and seldom recover till they are conveniently carried away; and when they awake, find themselves many miles off in the power of their ravisher.
Arabella's other women, alarmed by her cries, came running into the room; and seeing Mr. Tinsel there, and their lady in a swoon, concluded some very extraordinary accident had happened.
What is your business here? cried they all at a time. Is it you that has frighted her ladyship?
Devil take me, said Tinsel, amazed, if I can tell what all this means.
By this time Sir Charles, Mr. Glanville, and his sister, came running astonished up stairs. Arabella still continued motionless in her chair, her eyes closed, and her head reclined upon Lucy, who, with her other women, was endeavouring to recover her.
Mr. Glanville eagerly ran to her assistance, while Sir Charles and his daughter as eagerly interrogated Mr. Tinsel, who stood motionless with surprise, concerning the cause of her disorder.
Arabella, then first discovering some signs of life, half opened her eyes.
Inhuman wretch! cried she, with a faint voice, supposing herself in the hands of her ravisher, think not thy cruel violence shall procure thee what thy submissions could not obtain; and if when thou hadst only my indifference to surmount, thou didst find it so difficult to overcome my resolution, now that, by this unjust attempt, thou hast added aversion to that indifference, never hope for any thing but the most bitter reproaches from me.—
Why, niece, said Sir Charles, approaching her, what is the matter? Look up, I beseech you, nobody is attempting to do you any hurt: here's none but friends about you.
Arabella, raising her head at the sound of her uncle's voice, and casting a confused look on the persons about her—
May I believe my senses? Am I rescued, and in my own chamber? To whose valour is my deliverance owing? Without doubt, it is to my cousin's; but where is he? Let me assure him of my gratitude.
Mr. Glanville, who had retired to a window in great confusion, as soon as he heard her call for him, came towards her, and in a whisper begged her to be composed; that she was in no danger.
And pray, niece, said Sir Charles, now you are a little recovered, be so good to inform us of the cause of your fright. What has happened to occasion all this confusion?
How, sir! said Arabella, don't you know, then, what has happened?—Pray, how was I brought again into my chamber, and by what means was I rescued?
I protest, said Sir Charles, I don't know that you have been out of it.
Alas! replied Arabella, I perceive you are quite ignorant of what has befallen me; nor am I able to give you any information. All I can tell you is, that alarmed by my woman's cries, and the sight of my ravisher, who came into my chamber, I fainted away, and so facilitated his enterprise; since doubtless it was very easy for him to carry me away while I remained in that senseless condition. How I was rescued, or by whom, one of my women can haply inform you; since it is probable one of them was also forced away with me——Oh, Heavens! cried she, seeing Tinsel, who all this while stood gazing like one distracted; what makes that impious man appear in my presence! What am I to think of this? Am I really delivered, or no?
What can this mean? cried Sir Charles, turning to Tinsel. Have you, sir, had any hand in frighting my niece?
I, sir! said Tinsel: let me perish, if ever I was so confounded in my life: the lady's brain is disordered, I believe.
Mr. Glanville, who was convinced all this confusion was caused by some of Arabella's usual whims, dreaded lest an explanation would the more expose her; and therefore told his father that it would be best to retire, and leave his cousin to the care of his sister and her women; adding, that she was not yet quite recovered, and their presence did but discompose her.
Then addressing himself to Tinsel, he told him he would wait upon him down stairs.
Arabella seeing them going away together, and supposing they intended to dispute the possession of her with their swords, called out to them to stay.
Mr. Glanville, however, without minding her, pressed Mr. Tinsel to walk down.
Nay, pray, sir, said the beau, let us go in again; she may grow outrageous, if we disoblige her.
Outrageous, sir! said Glanville: do you suppose my cousin is mad?
Upon my soul, sir, replied Tinsel, if she is not mad, she is certainly a little out of her senses, or so——
Arabella having reiterated her commands for her lovers to return, and finding they did not obey her, ran to her chamber-door, where they were holding a surly sort of conference, especially on Glanville's side, who was horridly out of humour.
I perceive by your looks, said Arabella to her cousin, the design you are meditating; but know that I absolutely forbid you, by all the power I have over you, not to engage in combat with my ravisher here.
Madam, interrupted Glanville, I beseech you, do not——
I know, said she, you will object to me the examples of Artamenes, Aronces, and many others, who were so generous as to promise their rivals not to refuse them that satisfaction whenever they demanded it—but consider, you have not the same obligations to Mr. Tinsel that Artamenes had to the king of Assyria, or that Aronces had to——
For God's sake, cousin, said Glanville, what's all this to the purpose? Curse on Aronces and the king of Assyria, I say——
The astonishment of Arabella at this intemperate speech of her cousin, kept her for a moment immoveable; when Sir Charles, who during this discourse, had been collecting all the information he could from Lucy, concerning this perplexed affair, came towards Tinsel, and, giving him an angry look, told him, he should take it well if he forbore visiting any of his family for the future.
Oh! your most obedient servant, sir, said Tinsel. You expect, I suppose, I should be excessively chagrined at this prohibition? But upon my soul, I am greatly obliged to you. Agad! I have no great mind to a halter: and since this lady is so apt to think people have a design to ravish her, the wisest thing a man can do is to keep out of her way.
Sir, replied Glanville, who had followed him to the door, I believe there has been some little mistake in what has happened to-day—However, I expect you'll take no unbecoming liberties with the character of Lady Bella—
Oh! sir, said Tinsel, I give you my honour I shall always speak of the lady with the most profound veneration. She is a most accomplished, incomprehensible lady: and the devil take me, if I think there is her fellow in the world——And so, sir, I am your most obedient——
A word with you before you go, said Glanville, stopping him. No more of these sneers, as you value that smooth face of yours, or I'll despoil it of a nose.
Oh! your humble servant, said the beau, retiring in great confusion, with something betwixt a smile and a grin upon his countenance, which he took care however Mr. Glanville should not see; who, as soon as he quitted him, went again to Arabella's apartment, in order to prevail upon his father and sister to leave her a little to herself: for he dreaded lest some more instances of her extravagance would put it into his father's head that she was really out of her senses.
Well, sir, said Arabella upon his entrance, you have, I suppose, given your rival his liberty. I assure you this generosity is highly agreeable to me—And herein you imitate the noble Artamenes, who upon a like occasion, acted as you have done. For when Fortune had put the ravisher of Mandana in his power, and he became the vanquisher of his rival, who endeavoured by violence to possess that divine princess; this truly generous hero relinquished the right he had of disposing of his prisoner, and instead of sacrificing his life to his just and reasonable vengeance, he gave a proof of his admirable virtue and clemency by dismissing him in safety, as you have done. However, added she, I hope you have made him swear upon your sword, that he will never make a second attempt upon my liberty. I perceive, pursued she, seeing Mr. Glanville continued silent, with his eyes bent on the ground, for indeed he was ashamed to look up; that you would willingly avoid the praise due to the heroic action you have just performed—nay, I suppose you are resolved to keep it secret, if possible; yet I must tell you, that you will not escape the glory due to it. Glory is as necessarily the result of a virtuous action, as light is an effect of the sun which causeth it, and has no dependence on any other cause; since a virtuous action continues still the same, though it be done without testimony; and glory, which is, as one may say, born with it, constantly attends it, though the action be not known.
I protest, niece, said Sir Charles, that's very prettily said.
In my opinion, sir, pursued Arabella, if any thing can weaken the glory of a good action, it is the care a person takes to make it known; as if one did not do good for the sake of good, but for the praise that generally follows it. Those then that are governed by so interested a motive, ought to be considered as sordid rather than generous persons; who making a kind of traffic between virtue and glory, barter just so much of the one for the other, and expect, like other merchants, to make advantage by the exchange.
Mr. Glanville, who was charmed into an ecstasy at this sensible speech of Arabella's, forgot in an instant all her absurdities. He did not fail to express his admiration of her understanding, in terms that brought a blush into her fair face, and obliged her to lay her commands upon him to cease his excessive commendations. Then making a sign to them to leave her alone, Mr. Glanville, who understood her, took his father and sister down stairs, leaving Arabella with her faithful Lucy, whom she immediately commanded to give her a relation of what had happened to her from the time of her swooning till she recovered.
Why, madam, said Lucy, all I can tell your ladyship is, that we were all excessively frightened, to be sure, when you fainted, especially myself; and that we did what we could to recover you—And so accordingly your ladyship did recover.
What's this to the purpose? said Arabella, perceiving she stopped here. I know that I fainted, and it is also very plain that I recovered again—I ask you what happened to me in the intermediate time between my fainting and recovery. Give me a faithful relation of all the accidents to which by my fainting I am quite a stranger; and which, no doubt, are very considerable——
Indeed, madam, replied Lucy, I have given your ladyship a faithful relation of all I can remember.
When? resumed Arabella, surprised.
This moment, madam, said Lucy.
Why, sure thou dreamest, wench! replied she. Hast thou told me how I was seized and carried off? How I was rescued again? And—
No, indeed, madam, interrupted Lucy, I don't dream; I never told your ladyship that you was carried off.
Well, said Arabella, and why dost thou not satisfy my curiosity? Is it not fit I should be acquainted with such a momentous part of my history?
I can't, indeed, and please your ladyship, said Lucy.
What canst thou not? said Arabella, enraged at her stupidity.
Why, madam, said Lucy, sobbing, I can't make a history of nothing!
Of nothing, wench! resumed Arabella, in a greater rage than before. Dost thou call an adventure to which thou wast a witness, and borest haply so great a share in, nothing?—An adventure which hereafter will make a considerable figure in the relation of my life, dost thou look upon as trifling and of no consequence?
No, indeed I don't, madam, said Lucy.
Why then, pursued Arabella, dost thou wilfully neglect to relate it? Suppose, as there is nothing more likely, thou wert commanded by some persons of considerable quality, or haply some great princes and princesses, to recount the adventures of my life, wouldest thou omit a circumstance of so much moment?
No indeed, madam, said Lucy.
I am glad to hear thou art so discreet, said Arabella; and pray do me the favour to relate this adventure to me, as thou wouldest do to those princes and princesses, if thou wert commanded.
Here Arabella, making a full stop, fixed her eyes upon her woman, expecting every moment she would begin the desired narrative—But finding she continued silent longer than she thought was necessary for recalling the several circumstances of the story into her mind—
I find, said she, it will be necessary to caution you against making your audience wait too long for your relation. It looks as if you was to make a studied speech, not a simple relation of facts, which ought to be free from all affectation of labour and art; and be told with that graceful negligence which is so becoming to truth.
This I thought proper to tell you, added she, that you may not fall into that mistake when you are called upon to relate my adventures——Well, now if you please to begin——
What, pray madam? said Lucy.
What? repeated Arabella: why, the adventures which happened to me so lately. Relate to me every circumstance of my being carried away, and how my deliverance was effected by my cousin.
Indeed, madam, said Lucy, I know nothing about your ladyship's being carried away.
Be gone, cried Arabella, losing all patience at her obstinacy: get out of my presence this moment. Wretch, unworthy of my confidence and favour, thy treason is too manifest: thou art bribed by that presumptuous man to conceal all the circumstances of his attempt from my knowledge, to the end that I may not have a full conviction of his guilt.
Lucy, who never saw her lady so much offended before, and knew not the occasion of it, burst into tears; which so affected the tender heart of Arabella, that losing insensibly all her anger, she told her with a voice softened to a tone of the utmost sweetness and condescension, that provided she would confess how far she had been prevailed upon by his rich presents to forget her duty, she would pardon and receive her again into favour—
Speak, added she, and be not afraid, after this promise, to let me know what Mr. Tinsel required of thee, and what were the gifts with which he purchased thy services. Doubtless, he presented thee with jewels of a considerable value——
Since your ladyship, said Lucy, sobbing, has promised not to be angry, I don't care if I do tell your ladyship what he gave me. He gave me this half guinea, madam, indeed he did; but for all that, when he would come into your chamber, I struggled with him, and cried out, for fear he should carry your ladyship away——
Arabella, lost in astonishment and shame at hearing of so inconsiderable a present made to her woman, the like of which not one of her romances could furnish her, ordered her immediately to withdraw, not being willing she should observe the confusion this strange bribe had given her.
After she had been gone some time, she endeavoured to compose her looks, and went down to the dining-room, where Sir Charles and his son and daughter had been engaged in a conversation concerning her, the particulars of which may be found in the first chapter of the next book.
Miss Glanville, who with a malicious pleasure had secretly triumphed in the extravagancies her beautiful cousin had been guilty of, was now sensibly disappointed to find they had had so little effect on her father and brother; for instead of reflecting upon the absurdities to which they had been a witness, Mr. Glanville artfully pursued the subject Arabella had just before been expatiating upon, taking notice frequently of some observations of hers, and by a well contrived repetition of her words, obliged his father a second time to declare that his niece had spoken extremely well.
Mr. Glanville taking the word, launched out into such praises of her wit, that Miss Glanville, no longer able to listen patiently, replied—
It was true Lady Bella sometimes said very sensible things; that it was a great pity she was not always in a reasonable way of thinking, or that her intervals were not longer—
Her intervals, miss! said Glanville, pray what do you mean by that expression?—
Why, pray, said Miss Glanville, don't you think my cousin is sometimes a little wrong in the head?
Mr. Glanville at these words starting from his chair, took a turn across the room in great discomposure: then stopping all of a sudden, and giving his sister a furious look——Charlotte, said he, don't give me cause to think you are envious of your cousin's superior excellencies——
Envious! repeated Miss Glanville, I envious of my cousin—I vow I should never have thought of that—Indeed, brother, you are much mistaken; my cousin's superior excellencies never gave me a moment's disturbance—Though I must confess her unaccountable whims have often excited my pity—
No more of this, Charlotte, interrupted Mr. Glanville, as you value my friendship—no more of it——
Why, really, son, said Sir Charles, my niece has very strange whimsies sometimes. How it came into her head to think Mr. Tinsel would attempt to carry her away, I can't imagine. For after all, he only pressed rather too rudely into her chamber, for which, as you see, I have forbidden his visits.
That was of a piece, said Miss Glanville sneeringly to her brother, with her asking you if you had made Mr. Tinsel swear upon your sword, that he would never again attempt to carry her away; and applauding you for having given him his liberty, as the generous Atermens did on the same occasion.
I would advise you, Charlotte, said Mr. Glanville, not to aim at repeating your cousin's words, till you know how to pronounce them properly.
Oh! that's one of her superior excellencies, said Miss Glanville.
Indeed, miss, said Glanville very provokingly, she is superior to you in many things; and as much so in the goodness of her heart, as in the beauty of her person——
Come, come, Charles, said the baronet, who observed his daughter sat swelling and biting her lip at this reproach, personal reflections are better avoided. Your sister is very well, and not to be disparaged; though, to be sure, Lady Bella is the finest woman I ever saw in my life.
Miss Glanville was, if possible, more disgusted at her father's palliation than her brother's reproaches; and, in order to give a loose to her passion, accused Mr. Glanville of a decrease in his affection for her, since he had been in love with her cousin; and having found this excuse for her tears, very freely gave vent to them.
Mr. Glanville being softened by this sight, sacrificed a few compliments to her vanity, which soon restored her to her usual tranquillity; then, turning the discourse on his beloved Arabella, pronounced a panegyric on her virtues and accomplishments of an hour long; which, if it did not absolutely persuade his sister to change her opinion, it certainly convinced his father that his niece was not only perfectly well in her understanding, but even better than most others of her sex.
Mr. Glanville had just finished her eulogium when Arabella appeared. Joy danced in his eyes at her approach; he gazed upon her with a kind of conscious triumph in his looks; her consummate loveliness justifying his passion, and being in his opinion more than an excuse for all her extravagancies.
Arabella, who at her entrance had perceived some traces of uneasiness upon Miss Glanville's countenance, tenderly asked her the cause; to which that young lady answering in a cold and reserved manner, Mr. Glanville, to divert her reflections on it, very freely accused himself of having given his sister some offence. To be sure, brother, said Miss Glanville, you are very vehement in your temper, and are as violently carried away about things of little importance as of the greatest; and then, whatever you have a fancy for, you love so obstinately.
I am obliged to you, miss, interrupted Mr. Glanville, for endeavouring to give Lady Bella so unfavourable an opinion of me——
I assure you, said Arabella, Miss Glanville has said nothing to your disadvantage: for, in my opinion, the temperament of great minds ought to be such as she represents yours to be. For there is nothing at so great a distance from true and heroic virtue, as that indifference which obliges some people to be pleased with all things or nothing: whence it comes to pass, that they neither entertain great desires of glory, nor fear of infamy; that they neither love nor hate; that they are wholly influenced by custom, and are sensible only of the afflictions of the body, their minds being in a manner insensible——
To say the truth, I am inclined to conceive a greater hope of a man, who in the beginning of his life is hurried away by some evil habit, than one that fastens on nothing. The mind that cannot be brought to detest vice, will never be persuaded to love virtue; but one who is capable of loving or hating irreconcileably, by having, when young, his passions directed to proper objects, will remain fixed in his choice of what is good. But with him who is incapable of any violent attraction, and whose heart is chilled by a general indifference, precept or example will have no force—And philosophy itself, which boasts it hath remedies for all indispositions of the soul, never had any that can cure an indifferent mind—Nay, added she, I am persuaded that indifference is generally the inseparable companion of a weak and imperfect judgment. For it is so natural to a person to be carried towards that which he believes to be good, that if indifferent people were able to judge of things, they would fasten on something. But certain it is, that this lukewarmness of soul, which sends forth but feeble desires, sends also but feeble lights; so that those who are guilty of it, not knowing any thing clearly, cannot fasten on any thing with perseverance.
Mr. Glanville, when Arabella had finished this speech, cast a triumphing glance at his sister, who had affected great inattention all the while she had been speaking. Sir Charles, in his way, expressed much admiration of her wit; telling her, if she had been a man, she would have made a great figure in parliament, and that her speeches might have come perhaps to be printed in time.
This compliment, odd as it was, gave great joy to Glanville; when the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Selvin, who had slipped away unobserved at the time that Arabella's indisposition had alarmed them, and now came to enquire after her health; and also, if an opportunity offered, to set her right with regard to the suspicions she had entertained of his designing to pay his addresses to her.
Arabella, as soon as he had sent in his name, appeared to be in great disturbance; and upon his entrance, offered immediately to withdraw, telling Mr. Glanville, who would have detained her, that she found no place was likely to secure her from the persecutions of that gentleman.
Glanville stared, and looked strangely perplexed at this speech; Miss Glanville smiled, and poor Selvin, with a very silly look, hemm'd two or three times, and then with a faltering accent said, Madam, I am very much concerned to find your ladyship resolved to persist in——
Sir, interrupted Arabella, my resolutions are unalterable. I told you so before, and am surprised, after the knowledge of my intentions, you presume to appear in my presence again, from whence I had so positively banished you.
Pray, niece, said Sir Charles, what has Mr. Selvin done to disoblige you?
Sir, replied Arabella, Mr. Selvin's offence can admit of no other reparation than that which I required of him, which was a voluntary banishment from my presence; and in this, pursued she, I am guilty of no more severity to you, than the princess Udosia was to the unfortunate Thrasimedes. For the passion of this prince having come to her knowledge, notwithstanding the pains he took to conceal it, this fair and wise princess thought it not enough to forbid his speaking to her, but also banished him from her presence; laying a peremptory command upon him, never to appear before her again till he was perfectly cured of that unhappy love he had entertained for her—Imitate therefore the meritorious obedience of this poor prince: and if that passion you profess for me——
How, sir! interrupted Sir Charles: do you make love to my niece then?—
Sir, replied Mr. Selvin, who was strangely confounded at Arabella's speech, though I really admire the perfections this lady is possessed of, yet I assure you, upon my honour, I never had a thought of making any addresses to her; and I can't imagine why her ladyship persists in accusing me of such presumption.
So formal a denial, after what Arabella had said, extremely perplexed Sir Charles, and filled Mr. Glanville with inconceivable shame—
Miss Glanville enjoyed their disturbance, and, full of an ill-natured triumph, endeavoured to look Arabella into confusion; but that lady not being at all discomposed by this declaration of Mr. Selvin's, having accounted for it already, replied with great calmness—
Sir, it is easy to see through the artifice of your disclaiming any passion for me—Upon any other occasion, questionless, you would rather sacrifice your life, than consent to disavow these sentiments, which unhappily for your peace, you have entertained. At present the desire of continuing near me obliges you to lay this constraint upon yourself. However, you know Thrasimedes fell upon the same stratagem to no purpose. The rigid Udosia saw through the disguise, and would not dispense with herself from banishing him from Rome, as I do you from England——
How, madam! interrupted Selvin, amazed—
Yes, sir, replied Arabella hastily: nothing less can satisfy what I owe to the consideration of my own glory.
Upon my word, madam, said Selvin, half angry, and yet strongly inclined to laugh, I don't see the necessity of my quitting my native country, to satisfy what you owe to the consideration of your own glory. Pray, how does my staying in England affect your ladyship's glory?
To answer your question with another, said Arabella, pray how did the stay of Thrasimedes in Rome, affect the glory of the empress Udosia?
Mr. Selvin was struck dumb with this speech, for he was not willing to be thought so deficient in the knowledge of history, as not to be acquainted with the reasons why Thrasimedes should not stay in Rome.
His silence therefore seeming to Arabella to be a tacit confession of the justice of her commands, a sentiment of compassion for this unfortunate lover intruded itself into her mind; and turning her bright eyes, full of a soft complacency, upon Selvin, who stared at her as if he had lost his wits—
I will not, said she, wrong the sublimity of your passion for me so much as to doubt your being ready to sacrifice the repose of your own life to the satisfaction of mine: nor will I do so much injustice to your generosity, as to suppose the glory of obeying my commands, will not in some measure soften the rigour of your destiny—I know not whether it may be lawful for me to tell you, that your misfortune does really cause me some affliction; but I am willing to give you this consolation, and also to assure you, that to whatever part of the world your despair will carry you, the good wishes and compassion of Arabella shall follow you——
Having said this, with one of her fair hands she covered her face, to hide the blushes which so compassionate a speech had caused—holding the other extended with a careless air, supposing he would kneel to kiss it, and bathe it with his tears, as was the custom on such melancholy occasions, her head at the same time turned another way, as if reluctantly and with confusion she granted this favour.—But after standing a moment in this posture, and finding her hand untouched, she concluded grief had deprived him of his senses, and that he would shortly fall into a swoon as Thrasimedes did: and to prevent being a witness of so doleful a sight, she hurried out of the room, without once turning about; and having reached her own apartment, sunk into a chair, not a little affected with the deplorable condition in which she had left her supposed miserable lover.
The company she had left behind her being all, except Mr. Glanville, to the last degree surprised at her strange words and actions, continued mute for several minutes after she was gone, staring upon one another, as if each wished to know the other's opinion of such an unaccountable behaviour. At last Miss Glanville, who observed her brother's back was towards her, told Mr. Selvin in a low voice, that she hoped he would call and take his leave of them before he set out for the place where his despair would carry him.
Mr. Selvin, in spite of his natural gravity, could not forbear laughing at this speech of Miss Glanville's, which shocked her brother; and not being able to stay where Arabella was ridiculed, nor entitled to resent it, which would have been a manifest injustice on that occasion, he retired to his own apartment, to give vent to that spleen which in those moments made him out of humour with all the world.
Sir Charles, when he was gone, indulged himself in a little mirth on his niece's extravagance, protesting he did not know what to do with her. Upon which Miss Glanville observed, that it was a pity there were not such things as Protestant nunneries; giving it as her opinion, that her cousin ought to be confined in one of those places, and never suffered to see any company, by which means she would avoid exposing herself in the manner she did now.
Mr. Selvin, who possibly thought this a reasonable scheme of Miss Glanville's, seemed by his silence to assent to her opinion; but Sir Charles was greatly displeased with his daughter for expressing herself so freely; alleging that Arabella, when she was out of those whims, was a very sensible young lady, and sometimes talked as learnedly as a divine. To which Mr. Selvin also added, that she had a great knowledge of history, and had a most surprising memory; and after some more discourse to the same purpose, he took his leave, earnestly entreating Sir Charles to believe that he never entertained any design of making his addresses to Lady Bella.
In the mean time, that lady, after having given near half an hour to those reflections which occur to heroines in the same situation with herself, called for Lucy, and ordered her to go to the dining-room, and see in what condition Mr. Selvin was, telling her she had certainly left him in a swoon, as also the occasion of it; and bade her give him all the consolation in her power.
Lucy, with tears in her eyes at this recital, went down as she was ordered, and entering the room without any ceremony, her thoughts being wholly fixed on the melancholy circumstance her lady had been telling her; she looked eagerly round the room without speaking a word, till Sir Charles and Miss Glanville, who thought she had been sent with some message from Arabella, asked her both at the same instant, what she wanted.
I came, sir, said Lucy, repeating her lady's words, to see in what condition Mr. Selvin is in, and to give him all the solation in my power.
Sir Charles, laughing heartily at this speech, asked her what she could do for Mr. Selvin? To which she replied, she did not know; but her lady had told her to give him all the solation in her power.
Consolation thou wouldst say, I suppose, said Sir Charles.
Yes, Sir, said Lucy, curtseying. Well, child, added he, go up and tell your lady, Mr. Selvin does not need any consolation.
Lucy accordingly returned with this message, and was met at the chamber-door by Arabella, who hastily asked her if Mr. Selvin was recovered from his swoon: to which Lucy replied that she did not know; but that Sir Charles bid her tell her ladyship, Mr. Selvin did not need any consolation.
Oh Heavens! cried Arabella, throwing herself into a chair as pale as death—He is dead, he has fallen upon his sword, and put an end to his life and miseries at once—Oh! how unhappy am I, cried she, bursting into tears, to be the cause of so cruel an accident—Was ever any fate so terrible as mine—Was ever beauty so fatal—Was ever rigour so unfortunate—How will the quiet of my future days be disturbed by the sad remembrance of a man whose death was caused by my disdain—But why, resumed she after a little pause—Why do I thus afflict myself for what has happened by an unavoidable necessity? Nor am I singular in the misfortune which has befallen me—Did not the sad Perinthus die for the beautiful Panthea—Did not the rigour of Barsina bring the miserable Oxyatres to the grave—And the severity of Statira make Oroondates fall upon his sword in her presence, though happily he escaped being killed by it—Let us then not afflict ourselves unreasonably at this sad accident—Let us lament, as we ought, the fatal effects of our charms—But let us comfort ourselves with the thought that we have only acted conformable to our duty.
Arabella having pronounced these last words with a solemn and lofty accent, ordered Lucy, who listened to her with eyes drowned in tears, to go down and ask if the body was removed. For, added she, all my constancy will not be sufficient to support me against that pitiful sight.
Lucy accordingly delivered her message to Sir Charles and Miss Glanville, who were still together, discoursing on the fantastical turn of Arabella; when the knight, who could not possibly comprehend what she meant by asking if the body was removed, bid her tell her lady he desired to speak with her.
Arabella, upon receiving this summons, set herself to consider what could be the intent of it. If Mr. Selvin be dead, said she, what good can my presence do among them? Surely it cannot be to upbraid me with my severity, that my uncle desires to see me—No, it would be unjust to suppose it. Questionless, my unhappy lover is still struggling with the pangs of death, and for a consolation in his last moments, implores the favour of resigning up his life in my sight. Pausing a little at these words, she rose from her seat with a resolution to give the unhappy Selvin her pardon before he died. Meeting Mr. Glanville as he was returning from his chamber to the dining-room, she told him, she hoped the charity she was going to discover towards his rival, would not give him any uneasiness; and preventing his reply, by going hastily into the room, he followed her, dreading some new extravagance, yet, not able to prevent it, endeavoured to conceal his confusion from her observation. Arabella, after breathing a gentle sigh, told Sir Charles, that she was come to grant Mr. Selvin her pardon for the offence he had been guilty of, that he might depart in peace.
Well, well, said Sir Charles, he is departed in peace without it.
How, Sir! interrupted Arabella: is he dead then already? Alas! why had he not the satisfaction of seeing me before he expired, that his soul might have departed in peace? He would have been assured not only of my pardon, but pity also; and that assurance would have made him happy in his last moments.
Why, niece, interrupted Sir Charles, staring, you surprise me prodigiously: are you in earnest?
Questionless I am, sir, said she: nor ought you to be surprised at the concern I express for the fate of this unhappy man, nor at the pardon I proposed to have granted him; since herein I am justified by the example of many great and virtuous princesses, who have done as much, nay, haply more than I intended to have done, for persons whose offences were greater than Mr. Selvin's.
I am very sorry, madam, said Sir Charles, to hear you talk in this manner: it is really enough to make one suspect you are——
You do me great injustice, sir, interrupted Arabella, if you suspect me to be guilty of any unbecoming weakness for this man. If barely expressing my compassion for his misfortunes be esteemed so great a favour, what would you have thought if I had supported his head on my knees while he was dying, shed tears over him, and discovered all the tokens of a sincere affliction for him?
Good God! said Sir Charles, lifting up his eyes: did any body ever hear of any thing like this?
What, sir, said Arabella, with as great an appearance of surprise in her countenance as his had discovered, do you say you never heard of any thing like this? Then you never heard of the princess of Media, I suppose——
No, not I, madam, said Sir Charles peevishly.
Then, sir, resumed Arabella, permit me to tell you, that this fair and virtuous princess condescended to do all I have mentioned for the fierce Labynet, prince of Assyria: who though he had mortally offended her by stealing her away out of the court of the king her father, nevertheless, when he was wounded to death in her presence, and humbly implored her pardon before he died, she condescended as I have said, to support him on her knees, and shed tears for his disaster. I could produce many more instances of the like compassion in ladies almost as highly born as herself, though, perhaps, their quality was not quite so illustrious, she being the heiress of two powerful kingdoms. Yet to mention only these——
Good Heavens! cried Mr. Glanville here, being quite out of patience, I shall go distracted——
Arabella, surprised at this exclamation, looked earnestly at him for a moment—and then asked him, whether any thing she had said had given him uneasiness?
Yes, upon my soul, madam, said Glanville, so vexed and confused that he hardly knew what he said——
I am sorry for it, replied Arabella, gravely; and also am greatly concerned to find that in generosity you are so much exceeded by the illustrious Cyrus; who was so far from taking umbrage at Mandana's behaviour to the dying prince, that he commended her for the compassion she had shown him. So also did the brave and generous Oroondates, when the fair Statira——
By Heavens! cried Glanville, rising in a passion, there's no bearing this. Pardon me, madam, but upon my soul you'll make me hang myself.
Hang yourself, repeated Arabella: sure you know not what you say? You meant, I suppose, that you'll fall upon your sword. What hero ever threatened to give himself so vulgar a death? But pray let me know the cause of your despair, so sudden and so violent.