The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 322: what you’re looking at

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

' £48 MYSUKRIBS OF THR COURT. 3iL again speaking in the voice of coldly calm autho- rity. “Turning to your Majesty's left haad,” ocon- tinued Marchmont, “I behold seated next to you a woman who lives upon her profligacy : and think you for a moment that the word of such a wreteh would have the slightest weight with a jury of my countrymen in a legitimate Court of Justice P Let her proclaim ber antecedentse—let her charac- ter be unmasked as her face hae ere now been un- veiled; and who would attsach the remotest credence to a syllable flowing from such polluted lipe f” “It is easy to use harsh epithets, my lord,” ex- claimed Mrs. Oxenden, her dark eyes fashing ightning even more vivid than those which the eyes of Amy Sutton had shot forth: “but abuse is not argument—and the testimony against you would be already overwhelming, were you not borne up by that very desperation which compels you to struggle unto to the last {” “As for the villain who is seated next,” com tinued the Duke, his eyes now settling upon the Barker, “the gaol yawns for him; and {t were an insalt to any juryin thie country to produce the testimony of such a man !” “If i¢ wasn’t for such men eas you, my lord,” gtowled the Barker, “there would be fewer such men aes me! Your day is gone by—and it’s of no ase your making long epeeches and abusing them as you was accustomed to use as your touls.” “As for Madame Angelique,” continued the Duke of Marchmont, who affected to turn away with loathing and disgust from the fierce regards of the Burker,—“as for Madame Angelique, her character befits her to teke ber place in this com- pany with which your Majesty has chosen to sur- round yuureelf. The whule career of that vile Frenchwoman has been one of hardened iniquity ; and she has accumulated wealth by means the most d g, the most , the most abominable! Is it such testimony as bers that ean all in a moment ruin the character of a noble- man bearing one of the proudest of British titles f Place that woman in a witnese-box, and any judge will indignantly command her to stand down |— Bo jury would listen to her |” “ And yet, bad as I may have been,” exclaimed Madame Angelique, “I have had the honour of yeckoning the Duke of Marchmoat among my most intimate friends |” “J will now address myself to your Majesty,” the Duke, who choses to have the ap- pearance of disdaining to bandy a word with Madame Angelique. servediy of the cbaracters of your witnesese; and your Majesty’s own good sense must tell you that I have spoken only too truly. I will not pretend to fathem the purposes which you may have in view : but whatever they may be, you must confess by this time that you have failed in carrying them out. That I have been gay—perhapes dissipated, -—that I have been a man of ~all this it ie not worth my while to deny: but on the other hand these things assuredly concern not yourself. That Mre. Oxenden has been my mistress—that Amy Satton has received me in her arms—or that my visite have been paid to the house of Madame Angelique, are facts which I might readily have admitted without the necessity of this dark parade and solemn ordeal. ‘bat wy purse has been open to Mr. Stanbope—and that 1 bave beeu plundered as weil as personally maltreated by that villain who sits on your Majesty’s left hand—are likewise facts. But that I have ever been their suborner or the instigator of their iniquities, is something too monstrous for belief. That I, so proudly placed, shoald have condescended to such folly, is repugnant to your Majesty’s good sense. You see, Queen Indora, that I am addressing you with the respect that is due to your sex and to your rank. But let me warn your Majesty that it ie no light deed on your pert to adopt all these proseedings againet an Englishman, bowever humble bis rank might be: but when you reflect what I am—what my rank is—and that I am even exempt from the jurisdiction of the ordinary tribunals of my country—and if accused of misdeeds, can be tried only by my peere—you cannot shut out from yourself the fact that you have taken a most serious step in subjecting me @ an ordeal which can end in naught. Therefore I demand that your Majesty at once restores me to that freedom which these myrmidons of your’s”—and he glanced towards the Hindoos—“ have so grossly violated.” As the reader may su ppose, it cost the Duke o — Marchmont no mean effort to maintain the de- mesnour which eorresponded with the language that thus flowed from his lipa, and which was se completely at variance with that inward eonecious- ness of a thousand erimes that he expericneed: bat it was still by the very desperation of his cir- cumstances that he was supported ; and he was ia ® condition of the most awful suspense as to whad might be coming next. Queen Indurea listened to him with all that calm attention which a righteous judge bestows upom a captive who is accused s there was nothing however ia her look nor bear againet bim, or to feel uneasy at the respon¢ sibility of the pusition in which she had placed her- The Duke of Marchmont anxiously and eelf. wast be thes cbeurnll relied th eome iresh phase in the proceedings that were now in progress-—but what it might be he eould not possibly com- ure. “I bave heard you with sttention, prisoner,” said the Queen; “ but it is unnecessary for me to offer the slightest comment upon your speceh. Follow me.” She descended from her throne—grace and dig- nity in her movements—bub a deep solemnity in- vesting her as with a garment. Slowly she pro- ceeded towards that half.cpen dvor-the Dake of Marchmont mechanically following. The Hindoo- guards did not now accompany him: the witnesses remained stationary in their seats upon the dais. The Queen entered firet into the room to which we have so often alluded; and the moment the Duke of Marchmont reached the threshold he be- ——@ iam « arte tinea awe op eliiirrdes, ee eaampeet ss eae See COMME HOG cS) (CO