The Greatest Regency Romance Novels. Maria EdgeworthЧитать онлайн книгу.

with those Pangs, which none in her Condition are exempt from:—She could not conceal the sudden Rack which all at once invaded her; or had her Tongue been mute, her wildly rolling Eyes, the Distortion of her Features, and the Convulsions which shook her whole Frame, in spite of her, would have reveal’d she labour’d under some terrible Shock of Nature.—Every Body was surpris’d, every Body was concern’d, but few guessed at the Occasion.—Her Mother griev’d beyond Expression, doubted not but she was struck with the Hand of Death; and order’d her to be carried Home in a Chair, while herself follow’d in another.—A Physician was immediately sent for: But he presently perceiving what was her Distemper, call’d the old Lady aside, and told her, it was not a Doctor of his Sex, but one of her own, her Daughter stood in need of.—Never was Astonishment and Horror greater than that which seiz’d the Soul of this afflicted Parent at these Words: She could not for a Time believe the Truth of what she heard; but he insisting on it, and conjuring her to send for a Midwife, she was at length convinc’d of it.—All the Pity and Tenderness she had been for some Moment before possess’d of, now vanish’d, and were succeeded by an adequate Shame and Indignation:—She flew to the Bed where her Daughter was lying, and telling her what she had been inform’d of, and which she was now far from doubting, commanded her to reveal the Name of the Person whose Insinuations had drawn her to this Dishonour.—It was a great while before she could be brought to confess any Thing, and much longer before she could be prevailed on to name the Man whom she so fatally had lov’d; but the Rack of Nature growing more fierce, and the enraged old Lady protesting no Help should be afforded her while she persisted in her Obstinacy, she, with great Difficulty and Hesitation in her Speech, at last pronounc’d the Name of Beauplaisir. She had no sooner satisfy’d her weeping Mother, than that sorrowful Lady sent Messengers at the same Time, for a Midwife, and for that Gentleman who had occasion’d the other’s being wanted.—He happen’d by Accident to be at home, and immediately obey’d the Summons, though prodigiously surpris’d what Business a Lady so much a Stranger to him could have to impart.—But how much greater was his Amazement, when taking him into her Closet, she there acquainted him with her Daughter’s Misfortune, of the Discovery she had made, and how far he was concern’d in it?—All the Idea one can form of wild Astonishment, was mean to what he felt:—He assur’d her, that the young Lady her Daughter was a Person whom he had never, more than at a

Distance, admir’d:—That he had indeed, spoke to her in publick Company, but that he never had a Thought which tended to her Dishonour.—His Denials, if possible, added to the Indignation she was before enflam’d with:—She had no longer Patience; and carrying him into the Chamber, where she was just deliver’d of a fine Girl, cry’d out, I will not be impos’d on:The Truth by one of you shall be reveal’d.—Beauplaisir being brought to the Bed-side, was beginning to address himself to the Lady in it, to beg she would clear the Mistake her Mother was involv’d in; when she, covering herself with the Cloaths, and ready to die a second Time with the inward Agitations of her Soul, shriek’d out, Oh, I am undone!—I cannot live, and bear this Shame!—But the old Lady believing that now or never was the Time to dive into the Bottom of this Mystery, forcing her to rear her Head, told her, she should not hope to Escape the Scrutiny of a Parent she had dishonour’d in such a Manner, and pointing to Beauplaisir, Is this the Gentleman, (said she,) to whom you owe your Ruin? or have you deceiv’d me by a fictitious Tale? Oh! no, (resum’d the trembling Creature,) he is, indeed, the innocent Cause of my Undoing:—Promise me your Pardon, (continued she,) and I will relate the Means. Here she ceas’d, expecting what she would reply, which, on hearing Beauplaisir cry out, What mean you, Madam? I your Undoing, who never harbour’d the least Design on you in my Life, she did in these Words,Though the Injury you have done your Family, (said she,) is of a Nature which cannot justly hope Forgiveness, yet be assur’d, I shall much sooner excuse you when satisfied of the Truth, than while I am kept in a Suspence, if possible, as vexatious as the Crime itself is to me. Encouraged by this she related the whole Truth. And ’tis difficult to determine, if Beauplaisir, or the Lady, were most surpris’d at what they heard; he, that he should have been blinded so often by her Artifices; or she, that so young a Creature should have the Skill to make use of them. Both sat for some Time in a profound Resvery; till at length she broke it first in these Words: Pardon, Sir, (said she,) the Trouble I have given you: I must confess it was with a Design to oblige you to repair the supposed Injury you had done this unfortunate Girl, by marrying her, but now I know not what to say:—The Blame is wholly her’s, and I have nothing to request further of you, than that you will not divulge the distracted Folly she has been guilty of.—He answered her in Terms perfectly polite; but made no Offer of that which, perhaps, she expected, though could not, now inform’d of her Daughter’s Proceedings, demand. He assured her, however, that if she would commit the new-born Lady to his Care, he would discharge it faithfully. But neither of them would consent to that; and he took his Leave, full of Cogitations, more confus’d than ever he had known in his whole Life. He continued to visit there, to enquire after her Health every Day; but the old Lady perceiving there was nothing likely to ensue from these Civilities, but, perhaps, a Renewing of the Crime, she entreated him to refrain; and as soon as her Daughter was in a Condition, sent her to a Monastery in France, the Abbess of which had been her particular Friend. And thus ended an Intreague, which, considering the Time it lasted, was as full of Variety as any, perhaps, that many Ages has produced.