The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES. There was a pause—a silence in that room;— and thea a sob—a half-stifled sob—came floating upon the lady’s ear. She started—raised her head—and looked rapidly towards her husband. He had reseated himself: both his elbows rested upon the table—and his hands supported his face, which they likewise con- cealed. He was evidently wrestling against emo- tions profoundly excited—-but vainly wrestling : for his chest heaved conyulsively—and the strong, powerful, vigorous man was weeping like a child. Oh! not for another instant could the naturally eenerous-hearted Eleanor brook this moving spec- tacle: but, springing towards him, she tore his hands away from his eountepance-— she raised his head—and pressing her lips to his forehead, while the tears rained downfrom her long dark lashes upon his cheeks, she murmured, “ Forgive me, Feancis—forgive me! I am a wretch to have tor- tured you thus !” * Tt was your kindness—your goodness which un- manned me, adorable woman!” he exclaimed, press- ing her in his arms: “ it was the mercy you showed towards me, that awakened all the tenderest feelings of my soul !” He remained seated—and his beautiful wife stood by bis side, leaning upon him with one arm thrown around his neck, and one hand pressing his own to her lips,—while her eyes, usually of such dazzling lustre, contemplated his handsome features with a melting softness and a mournful tenderness. « Never again ask me to forgive you, Eleanor,” said the nobleman : “for I have so much for which to implore your pardon! But you can form no idea of the extent of that love which I bear for you, and which rendered me so diabolically selfish as to seal your misery by making you mine. Never—never shall I forget the first time that I beheld you! An eichantment was upon me—the very atmosphere which you breathed was intoxicating—the air through which you seemed to float in the mazy dance was fraught with ravishment! My senses were enthralled —niy spirit was bathed in a fount of love. I went home—and then came the terrible reflection that you never could be mine,—although the sweetest remini- scences of my life would ever be associated with your image. Like Orpheus, I could cherish the memory and i in imagination look upon the shade of her whom I loved: but the deep and impassable gulf appeared to be still between us! Again I saw you—and we were introduced to each other. Then did I comprehend all that celestial passion which poets love to paint,—I felt all its mystic influence, thrilling me like an elysian essence,—and I sate like one enehanted by your side, gazing in respectful ad- miration upon you. You spoke—and your voice fell like soft music on my ear ;—and when some one came to lead you off to the dance, it seemed to me as if a delicious melody which had enchained my senses, were passing away. Again I went home—to ponder throughout the live-long night on your image. And then I was madman enough to think and to hope that there might be such a sentiment as a love of divine nature, apart from gross enjoyment, and existing rather as an essence than a sensuousness. And I fancied that if I made you my wife—sur- rounded you with every element of happiness which wealth could purchase—anticipated all your slightest wishes—miinistered unto you the most delicate yet unwearied attentions—converted you into the goddess 135 (of my incessant worship—elevated you as dat mice | Of iy ideetient. mObipceeMA/ wou as the ais di- vinity to which it would be my only joy and desire to kneel --and studied your felicity even to those minute details that embrace the veriest trifles which the most affectionate husbands are prone to overlook,—I flat- tered myself, I say, that if I did all this, you would appreciate my good intentions—you would become contented with your lot—and you would regard me with a generous compassion—if not with friendship! Your dove I could not hope to gain:—and yet there were inoments when the starry wings of my imagi- nation wafted me, in delicious visions, away from this gross earth, and taught me to believe that a young, amiable, and intellectual woman, placed in the midst of the glowing feelings and gentle fascina- tions which my idolatry towards her was calculated to engender, would have perhaps learnt even to love the man who thus undertook to make her welfare and her happiness his sole and constant care.” By degrees, as the Earl of Desborough gave utter- ance to these sentiments in a tone plaintively touch- ing, the Countess grew deeply—deeply interested in the language that thus conveyed such ingenuous re- velations: her whole attention became absorbed in words which, though spoken with no sinister intent, but in the spirit of manly frankness and candouy, had the eflect of a powerful appeal to her feelings ; —and when, towards the close, they assumed the air and expression of a gentle reproach and a tender up- braiding, the conviction gradually stole upon her that she was unworthy of even the notice of the man in whose mind dwelt such elevated thoughts and such chastening ideas. The tint of the rose re-appeared upon her peck: which the former emotions had left so pale;—and that hue, deepening rapidly as the sense of shame grew stronger in her breast, flushed into a glowing crimson which overspread her coun- tenance—her neck—her very bosom! “ Francis,” she said, ina low and solemn voice, as she bent over him in such a way that he could not see her blushing cheeks, although he felt the gentle pressure of ers warm arm round his neck,—* I am humiliated—ashamed—confused, to an extent which you cannot possibly understand. What can I say— what can I do to convince you that I am thus pro- foundly touched? You have made me comprehend all the grossness of my mortal nature:—you have forced me to regard and study my own imagination in aJl its impurity—my soul in all its sensuousness. And yet—though possessing an ardent temperament, and at times devoured by desires and rendered rest- less by fierce passions—I take the Almighty to witness that I am pure and chaste in body,—I call heaven to hear the solemn oath which I pledge to you that never, never have I proved faithless to the vows breathed by my lips at the altar.” “Hush! not a word more, Eleanor — dearest Eleanor!” eried the Earl, springing from his chair and straining her to his breast. “ It were a flagrant insult towards you, were I even to thank you for an assurance on a point regarding which I was already assured. Never—no, not for a single instant—have I suspected that the rich offering of your virgin af- fections has been surrendered to aeiotivor ;—and it is the conviction of your chastity which enhances into a worship—an idolatry the love that I bear you! Oh!—yes—it is for this that [ have made you the goddess of my adoration;—and when I am not in your presence, my thoughts are with you all the same. Your image is never absent from my me- Com ElooolkkS. Con