The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

148 THE MYSTERIES. a and cutting. “ Look at me, l’ernanda—gaze intently upon me—see to what [ am reduced! Anunknown and terrible malady has seized upon me,—I am dying by inches,—I have not a year’s—no, nor six months’ life in me,—and I am come to offer you the only reparation which it is in my power to propose. But surely the Countess of Desborough has already explained this much to you 2” “She has told me that you would now become my husband—and she has urged me to accept the offer,” answered Fernanda, who did not require to be told to contemplate the wreck to which the young man was reduced: for from the first moment that he en- tered the room she had secretly gloated over that human ruin! “The Countess of Desborough,” con- tinued Fernanda, “used every possible argument which her generous nature could suggest or her bril- liant intellect devise, in order to induce me to accept this proposal which you have made so tardily—so very tardily. I was inexorable : but she implored me to see you. At first I refused—until it struck me that I should like to gaze upon your altered appearance and assure myself that the information I had re- ceived concerning you was correct.” ‘Then is it possible that you rejoice in this fright- ful malady which has seized upon me and which baffles the art of the first physicians of the day 2?” exclaimed Eaton, horror and dismay depicted upon his countenance. “Would you learn the truth?” asked Fernanda, bending upon him a look so full of fiend-like hatred that it enhanced ten thousand-fold the exquisite tor- tures which his mind was already enduring. “‘No—no!” he ejaculated, starting wildly from his seat. “IT will hurry away from your presence—I never ought to have ventured hither! You loathe— hate—and abhor me;—and I am frightened by your looks—horrified by your manner! T[arewell, Fer- nanda—farewell !” And he hastened towards the door of the chamber. “Stay !’ she exclaimed, in a tone so thrilling and penetrating that it seemed to pierce through his ears and his brain down into his very heart. He stopped short, as if transfixed: then, stagger- ing back, he sank into the seat which he had just quitted. “You must not leave me thus!’ resumed Fer- nanda: “I cannot permit you to depart while any doubt remains in your mind respecting my feelings. For as yet you only suspect that I loathe—hate—and abhor you,” she continued, dwelling with demoniac bitterness upon the words : “ whereas it is necessary that you should be convinced. Listen to me, Arthur Eaton—and interrupt menot. My heartis a withered and blighted thing—a crushed and ruined rose-bud: and yet when I contemplate its depths, I can well re- member and well understand how ineffable was the aroma of love which it once exhaled. And all that love was thine—freely given and joyously accepted. In return you pledged your own affections, which surrounded me as witha halo of happiness. Then you took advantage of my tenderness—and I re- signed my honour into your keeping. Perhaps I also was weak—frail—feeble: but a young woman is never the seducer of a young man! When you had possessed me you began to discover faults in my temper—you accused me of whims—and you up- braided me for caprices. But it was because you desired to play the tyrant and the despot with me, that I asserted my own independence--the in- dependence of a woman! When I knew that I was wrong, and reflection told me that I had behaved unjustly towards you, I besought your par- don—with tears I invoked your forgiveness. And I take God to witness the truth of my assertion, that when I seemed most capricious I loved you the most ardently. Oh! you cannot understand all that there is noble and elevated in the mind of a woman who truly loves. At the very instant when I was vexing you with some whim, I[ could have torn to pieces any other human being that dared only to Jook insultingly upon you: at the very moment that I was piquing you with some frivolous coquetry on my part, I could have laid down my life to save you from a single pang. Was this a heart to be trampled be- neath your foot? Who is perfect in this world? But no allowance is made for poor Woman! You de- foliated the flower of my chastity—you robbed me of my purity—and you then discovered that I was capricious. When [I had become to you asa wife in the sight of heaven, you began to find out my faults and my foibles, Just God! did not the im- mensity of my love in the other scale outweigh them all? But Man conceives that he may trifle as he will with the best and purest affections of Woman’s heart—that he may lead her into frailty and seduce her into folly—and then raise up a thousand excuses for not fulfilling the solemn pledges that elicited those concessions of her weak and confiding nature. Yes —these are the ideas which your sex entertains: and Woman encourages you in your iniquity because she so seldom avenges her shame and her dishonour. She weeps in secret—but rouses not herself to exertion. She pines—but does not punish, Such will not be the case with me!” Fernanda fell back exhausted, and panting for breath: for the excitement and the vehemence with which she had spoken were terrible in the extreme. Arthur Eaton had remained seated in utter stupe- faction. He lost not a single word which fell from her lips—but these words petrified him. Statue-like, the unhappy young man listened to those dread re- proaches—those dire denunciations—those conclud- ing menaces ;—and it appeared to him that he was the victim of some horrible dream. But he saw how much of the upbraiding was true: and he who had endeavoured to cheat himself into the belief that ad/ the fault lay on her side, was compelled to confess in the depths of his spirit that the preponderance was indeed on his own. “ Now, then, can you answer me?” inquired Fer- nanda, suddenly raising herself up in the bed again. ‘¢ And do you comprehend me ?—do you understand why I indeed loathe—hate—and abhor you?—do you know wherefore I crave for vengeance, or why I can be satisfied with that which heaven is wreak- ing on you ?”’ she demanded, suddenly struck by the fear that she had said too much and that her mean- ing might perhaps become intelligible. “Oh! think not for a single instant that I could so far forget my wrongs as to accompany you to the altar:—think not that I can now receive as a boon that which you denied me as a right—or that I will accept as a tardy reparation the alliance which you were once proud and happy to propose! No—ten thousand times no! And if, when your last hours come—and they cannot be far distant—if then a thought of the injured Fernanda should rise up in your soul and wring you with remorse—Oh! I shall rejoice—I shall rejoice: for I look upon you as my deadliest com ElOOOKS. COM