The Greatest Regency Romance Novels. Maria EdgeworthЧитать онлайн книгу.
to chance the disposal of her fate, and treat all her lovers, as she hitherto had done, only as subjects of mere amusement.
She was now beginning to please herself with thoughts of how Mr. Munden, whom she expected that evening, would behave at the sight of his new rival, and how Sir Frederick Fineer would bear the preference of a man whom she was resolved to shew him had the same pretensions as himself: but though she happened to be disappointed in her expectation in this, she did not want other sufficient matter for her diversion.
Sir Frederick, to shew the impatience of his passion, came very soon after dinner: she received him with as grave an air as she could possibly put on; but it was not in her power, nor indeed would have been in any one else's, to continue it for any long time; his conversation was much of a piece with his letters, and his actions even more extravagant.
Never was such an Orlando Furioso in love: on his first approach, he had indeed the boldness to take one of her hands, and put it to his mouth; but, afterwards, whatever he said to her was on his knees. He threw himself prostrate on the carpet before her, grasped her feet, and tenderly kissed each shoe, with the same vehemence as he could have done her lips, and as much devotion as the pilgrims at Rome do the pantofle of his holiness!—'Darts!—Flames!—Immortal joys!—Death!—Despair!—Heaven!—Hell!—Ever-during woe!'—and all the epithets in the whole vocabulary of Cupid's legend, begun and ended every sentence of his discourse. This way of entertaining her was so extraordinary, and so new to her, that she could not forbear sometimes returning it with a smile; which, in spite of her endeavours to preserve a serious deportment, diffused a gaiety through all her air.
Those who had told Sir Frederick, that the way to please this lady, was to soothe her vanity, either knew not, or had forgot to inform him, she had also an equal share of good sense; so that, mistaking the change he had observed in her looks for an indication of her being charmed with his manner of behaviour, he acted and re-acted over all his fopperies, and felt as much secret pride in repeating them, as a celebrated singer on the stage does in obeying the voice of an encore.
It is probable, however, that he would have continued in them long enough to have tired Miss Betsy so much as to have made her give him some demonstrative remark that the pleasantry he had seen her in, proceeded rather from derision than satisfaction, if, divine service being ended, some ladies, as they came from church, had not called to visit her. The sound of company coming up stairs, obliged him to break off in the middle of a rhapsody, which he, doubtless, thought very fine; and he took his leave somewhat hastily, telling her, the passion with which he was inflamed, was too fierce to be restrained within those bounds which she might expect before witnesses, and that he would wait on her the next day, when he hoped she would be at more liberty to receive his vows.
Eased of the constraint which decency, and the respect which she thought due to his quality, had laid her under while he was there, her natural sprightliness burst with double force. Mr. Munden, who came in soon after, felt the effects of it: he, indeed, enjoyed a benefit he little dreamt of. The absurd conversation of a rival he as yet knew nothing of, served to make all he said sound more agreeable than ever in the ears of his mistress: in this excess of good-humour, she not only made a handsome apology for the treatment he had received at Mrs. Modely's, (a thing she had never before vouchsafed to do to any of her lovers) but also gave him an invitation to squire her to a country dancing, in which she had engaged to make one the ensuing night.
CHAPTER IV
If it were not for some particulars, might be as well passed over as read
Miss Betsy, one would think, had now sufficient matter to employ her meditations on the score of those two lovers who at present laid close siege to her, neither of whom she was willing to part with entirely, and to retain either she found required some management: Mr. Munden was beginning to grow impatient at the little progress his long courtship had made on her affections; and Sir Frederick Fineer, on the other hand, was for bringing things to a conclusion at once; she was also every day receiving transient addresses from many others; which, though not meant seriously by those who made them, nor taken so by her, served occasionally to fill up any vacuum in her mind; yet was it not in the power of love, gallantry, or any other amusement, to drive the memory of Mr. Trueworth wholly out of her head; which shews, that to a woman of sense, a man of real merit, even though he is not loved, can never be totally indifferent.
But she was at this time more than ordinarily agitated on that gentleman's account; she doubted not but her brother Frank either had, or would shortly have, a long conference with him, on the subject of his desisting his visits to her, and could not keep herself from feeling some palpitations for the event; for though she was not resolved to afford any recompence to his love, she earnestly wished he should continue to desire it, and that she might still preserve her former dominion over a heart which she had always looked upon as the most valuable prize of all that her beauty had ever gained.
Thus unreasonable, and indeed unjust, was she in the affairs of love: in all others she was humane, benevolent, and kind; but here covetous, even to a greediness, of receiving all, without any intention of making the least return. In fine, the time was not yet come when she should be capable of being touched with that herself which she took so much pains to inspire in others.
Though she could not love, she was pleased with being loved: no man, of what degree or circumstance soever, could offend her by declaring himself her admirer; and as much as she despised Sir Frederick Fineer for his romantick manner of expressing the passion he professed for her, yet to have missed him out of the number of her train of captives, would have been little less mortification to her than the loss of a favourite lover would have been to some other woman.
That inamorato of all inamoratoes, would not, however, suffer the flames which he flattered himself with having kindled in her, to grow cool; and, ambitious also of shewing his talents in verse as well as prose, sent to her that morning the following epistle—
'To the bright goddess of my soul, the adorable Miss Betsy Thoughtless.
Most divine source of joy!
To shew in what manner I pass the hours of absence from you, and at the same time represent the case of a lover racked with suspense, and tossed alternately between hopes and fears, I take the liberty to inscribe to you the inclosed poem, which, I most humbly beseech you to take as it is meant, the tribute of my duteous zeal, an humble offering presented at the shrine of your all-glorious beauty, from, lovely ruler of my heart, your eternally devoted, and no less faithful slave,
F. Fineer.
A true picture of my heart, in the different stages of it's worship; a poem, most humbly inscribed to the never-enough deified Miss Betsy Thoughtless.
When first from my unfinish'd sleep I start,
I feel a flutt'ring faintness round my heart;
A darksome mist, which rises from my mind,
And, like sweet sunshine, leaves your name behind.
When from your shadow to yourself I fly,
To drink in transport at my thirsty eye,
Each orb surveys you with a kindling sight,
And trembles to sustain the vast delight:
From head to foot, o'er all your heaven they stray,
Dazzled with lustre in your milky way:
At last you speak; and, as I start to hear,
My soul is all collected in my ear.
But when resistless transport makes me bold,
And your soft hand inclos'd in mine I hold,
Then flooding raptures swim through ev'ry vein,
And each swollen art'ry throbs with pleasing pain.
Fain would I snatch you to my longing arms,
And grasp in extasy your blazing charms: