The Greatest Regency Romance Novels. Maria EdgeworthЧитать онлайн книгу.
'Me!' said Miss Betsy; 'what would he see me for?'—'Nay, I know not; but it is his whim, and he is obstinate: therefore, my dear Madam, in christian charity, and in compassion to his soul, hear what he has to say.'
'What good can I do him by going, Mrs. Modely?' said Miss Betsy. 'None, as to his share in the world,' answered she: 'but, dear Madam, consider the other, think what a sad thing it is for a man to die without the rites of the church; I'll warrant he has sins enough upon him, as most young gentlemen have; and, sure, you would not be the cause of his being miserable to all eternity!'
'Indeed, Mrs. Modely, I do not care to go,' said Miss Betsy. 'The sight is very terrible, indeed,' cried the other; 'but you need not stay two minutes; if you but just step in and speak to him, I fancy it will be enough: but, Lord! he may be dead while we are talking; and if he should leave the world in this manner, I should not be able to live in my house; and I have a lease of eleven years to come—I should think I saw his ghost in every room—so, dear, dear Miss Betsy! for my sake, if not for his, go with me—I came in a hackney-coach for haste, and it is still at the door.'
'Well, Modely, you shall prevail,' answered Miss Betsy: 'but you shall stay in the room all the time I am there.'—'That you may be sure I will,' returned the other: 'but come, pray Heaven we are not too late!'
They said little more to each other till they came to the house of Mrs. Modely; where the first sound that reached the ears of Miss Betsy were groans, which seemed to issue from the mouth of a person in the pangs of death.
Mrs. Modely led her into Sir Frederick's chamber, which was judiciously darkened, so as to leave light enough to discern objects, yet not so much as to render them too perspicuous. Miss Betsy saw him lying on the bed, as Mrs. Modely described, with a sword sticking upright in his breast, a clergyman, and another person, who appeared to be the surgeon, were sitting near him. 'Miss Betsy is so good,' said Mrs. Modely, 'to come to visit you, Sir Frederick.'—'I am glad of it,' replied he, in a low voice.—'Pray, Madam, approach.'
'I am sorry, Sir Frederick, to find you have been guilty of so rash an action,' said Miss Betsy, drawing towards the bed. 'I could not live without you,' rejoined he; 'nor would die without leaving you as happy as it is in my power to make you: I have settled two thousand pounds a year upon you during your natural life; but, as I would consult your honour in every thing I do, and people might imagine I made you this settlement in consideration of some favours which I had too true a regard for you ever to desire, you must enjoy it as my widow, and with it the title of Lady Fineer.'
Miss Betsy was so much amazed at this proposal that she had not the power to speak; but Mrs. Modely cried out, 'Was ever any thing so generous!'—'Truly noble, indeed!' added the surgeon; 'and worthy of himself and the love he has for this lady.'—'Bless me!' said Miss Betsy, 'would you have me marry a dying man?—You ought, Sir Frederick, to have other thoughts, as you are going out of the world.'
'Aye, Sir Frederick,' cried the parson, 'think of your immortal part.'—'I can think of nothing,' answered he, groaning bitterly, 'of my own happiness till I have fixed that of Miss Betsy.'—'Lord, Madam!' cried Mrs. Modely, softly, 'you would not be so mad to refuse: what! two thousand pounds a year, and a ladyship, with liberty to marry who you will!'
'This is the most generous offer I ever heard of,' said the parson: 'But I wish the lady would resolve soon; for it is high time Sir Frederick should prepare for another world.'—'He cannot live above an hour,' rejoined the surgeon: 'even if the sword is not withdrawn; therefore, good Madam, think what you have to do.'
While they were speaking, Sir Frederick redoubled his groans, and they went on pressing her to accept the terms he offered. 'Do not plunge a man into a sad eternity, merely for his love to you,' said the parson. 'All the world would condemn you, should you refuse,' cried the surgeon. 'A virgin-widow with two thousand pounds a year!' added Mrs. Modely.
In this manner did they urge her; and the parson getting on the one side of her, and the surgeon on the other, plied her so close with arguments, both on the advantages accruing to herself, and the compassion owing from her to a gentleman who had committed this act of desperation on himself, merely through his love for her, that she neither could nor knew how to make any answer; when Sir Frederick, giving two or three great groans, which seemed more deep than before, and the surgeon, pretending to take Miss Betsy's silence for consent, cried out, 'Madam, he is just going—we must be speedy!' And then turning to the parson, 'Doctor,' said he, 'proceed to the ceremony; pass over the prelude, and begin at the most essential part, else my patient won't live to the conclusion.'
The parson knew very well what he had to do, having his book ready, began at—'Sir Frederick Fineer, Baronet, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?' and so on. To which Sir Frederick answered in the same dismal accents he had hitherto spoken, 'I will!' Then the parson, turning to Miss Betsy, said, 'Betsy Thoughtless, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband?' and so forth. Miss Betsy, in the confusion of her mind, not well knowing what she said or did, replied in the affirmative; on which he was hurrying over the rest of the ceremony; but she, recollecting herself, cried out, 'Hold, doctor! I cannot be married in this manner.' But he seemed not to regard her words, but read on; and the surgeon taking hold of her hand, and joining it with Sir Frederick's, held it, in spite of her resistance, till the ring was forced upon her finger.
This action so incensed her, that the instant she got her hand at liberty, she plucked off the ring, and threw it on the ground. 'What do you mean?' said she. 'Do you think to compel me to a marriage?—Modely, you have not used me well!' With these words she was turning to go out of the room, but perceived, not till then, that Mrs. Modely had slipped out, and that the door was locked; she then began to call, 'Mrs. Modely, Mrs. Modely!' To which no answer was made.
'Come, come, Madam,' said the surgeon, 'this passion will avail you nothing; you are effectually married, whatever you may imagine to the contrary.'—'Yes, yes,' rejoined the parson, 'the ceremony is good and firm: I will stand to what I have done before any bishop in England.'—'There wants only consummation,' cried the surgeon; 'and that we must leave the bridegroom to compleat before he dies.' With these words they both went out, making the door fast after them.
Miss Betsy made use of her utmost efforts to pass at the same time they did, but they pushed her back with so much violence as almost threw her down; and Sir Frederick at the same time jumping off the bed, and throwing away the sword, which she imagined sheathed in his body, catched her suddenly in his arms.
It is hard to say whether rage for the imposition she now found had been practised on her, or the terror for the danger she was in, was the passion now most predominant in the soul of Miss Betsy; but both together served to inspire her with unusual strength and courage.
'Your resistance is vain,' cried he; 'you are my wife, and as such I shall enjoy you: no matter whether with your will or not.' She made no answer to these words; but, collecting all her force, sprung from him, and catching hold of one of the posts at the bed's foot, clung so fast round it, that all his endeavours to remove her thence were ineffectual for some moments, though the rough means he made use of for that purpose were very near breaking both her arms.
Breathless at last, however, with the continual shrieks she had sent out for help, and the violence she had sustained by the efforts of that abandoned wretch, who had as little regard to the tenderness of her sex, as to any other principle of humanity, she fell almost fainting on the floor; and was on the point of becoming a victim to the most wicked strategem that ever was invented, when on a sudden the door of the chamber was burst open, and a man, with his sword drawn, at that instant rushed in upon them.
'Monster!' cried he that entered, 'what act of villainy are you about to perpetrate?' Miss Betsy rising from the ground, at the same time, said to him, 'Oh, whoever you are, that Heaven has sent to my deliverance, save me, I conjure you, from that horrid wretch!'—'Fear nothing, Madam,' answered he. He had time for no more; the intended ravisher had snatched up his sword, and was advancing towards him with these words, 'That woman is my wife,' said he; 'how dare any one interfere between us?'—'O, it is false! it is false! believe him not!' cried Miss Betsy. Her protector made no reply; but, flying at his antagonist, immediately closed with