The Mummy!. Jane C. Loudon
I agree with you perfectly. I thought you could not mean all you before asserted."
"Excuse me, Emma, I did mean what I said. But I did not then speak of real love; I spoke only of the passion, or rather fancy, that usurps its name. Real, pure, undefiled love is that absorbing affection that prefers another's happiness to its own; that devotion that would sink unknown to the grave, to procure another's happiness; that seeks not its own gratification, but would sacrifice all the world can give, to promote the welfare of another; that can taste of no pleasure and partake of no delight, unless it be participated by the beloved object, and even then, joys in his satisfaction more than in its own. This is what I call love. I can imagine such a passion, though I shall never feel it. However, that it may be felt I am firmly convinced: though even you must acknowledge, it is rare to find it."
"Alas! my dear mistress!" said Emma, sighing heavily. "Every word you utter, convinces me you deceive yourself. For God's sake, do not marry Lord Edmund. You could have no idea of the romantic feelings you describe, if your heart were not open to receive them. Lord Edmund does not——"
"Hush! hush, Emma!" exclaimed Elvira, playfully interrupting her. "It is of no use. Say what we will, like most people that argue, we are sure to remain of the same opinion when we have done. I don't believe anybody ever yet was convinced by words; we must wait for facts, and, en attendant, suppose we consult upon what dress will be most becoming for us to wear at the approaching ceremony."
Emma gladly consented; and the princess and her companion were soon involved in a maze of ribbons, crapes, gauzes, silks and satins, from which it would be quite in vain for me to attempt to extricate them.
When Edric next saw his father, after the partial explanation that had taken place between them, he was excessively surprised to find him behave exactly as usual. The youthful philosopher was rather disconcerted at this conduct, which completely deranged all his speculations. In the course of his meditations in the grove, he had magnanimously made up his mind to endure every species of persecution rather than submit in the slightest degree to alter his opinions; and such is the strange and whimsical inconsistency of the human mind, that he was actually disappointed when he found there appeared little prospect of his heroic resolutions being called into practice.
It may seem strange to those who are feelingly convinced of the substantial comforts of an hospitable mansion and well supplied table, that any one should be found quixotic enough to lament that he had lost the chance of being deprived of them; but Edric's was the age of romance. His life had hitherto passed in one dull monotonous round, and the prospect of bustle and adventure has, in such cases, most irresistible charms. He also knew nothing of the world; and was almost as ignorant of the real evils of life, as the French princess, who, hearing that some persons had died of hunger, wondered at their folly, and said that for her part, rather than be famished, she would eat bread and cheese. Thus, as we said before, Edric was rather chagrined than delighted, when his father greeted him the morning after their conference as affectionately as before, and very amicably proposed that as soon as breakfast was ended, they should take a walk together to the castle of the duke.
Unwilling to vex his father needlessly by refusing, and yet fearful of compromising his firmness, by appearing to accede to what might be treachery on the part of his opponents, our young philosopher gave a rather ungracious assent to this proposition, and remained apparently absorbed in meditation during the whole walk. They found the duke extremely busy. Like many other people who have few real affairs to occupy them, he was quite delighted with any thing that seemed to promise a little bustle, and was firmly resolved to make the most of it. He was then giving orders for an illumination, and a public dinner to his tenants; bell-ringing, speech-making, and a variety of other things, we have really neither time nor patience to enumerate. Busy as he was, however, he was glad to see our friends, and greeted them most cordially.
"You are come in the very nick of time," said he: "I was just upon the point of sending for you. Do you know, Sir Ambrose, it has struck me that this triumph of Edmund's will be an admirable opportunity for his marriage; ay, and for yours too, Edric. What say you, Sir Ambrose?"
"Oh! of course I can have no objection."
"And of course," resumed the Duke, "I do not suppose the young men can have any. What do you say, Edric?"
But Edric did not speak: for, to own the truth, he did not exactly know what to say.
"Edric is so delighted, that it has deprived him of the power of utterance," observed the baronet, rather maliciously, perceiving the duke grow impatient.
"I trust your grace will excuse me," said Edric, at length recovering himself; "but——but——"
"But what?" said the duke, impatiently.
"I thought," resumed Edric, with considerable hesitation, "that your grace did not intend that the princesses should marry—till—till they had passed the age that would render—that is to say, that does render them eligible candidates for the throne.—"
Edric did not express himself very clearly; as he was not altogether certain of what he was saying. The duke, however, heard enough to put him into a passion.
"So I did," exclaimed he, "I know that perfectly; but I have altered my mind, I tell you: Claudia isn't above thirty, and she's likely to live these fifty years—so it is of no use waiting for her death. Besides, I should like to see my children married before I die. I am getting old; and anxiety in these respects increases with declining years."
"Then my anxiety ought to be greater than yours, duke, for I am the eldest," said Sir Ambrose.
"By a couple of years, at least," returned the duke, laughing, "for I suppose that is about the difference in our ages. But you don't answer me, Edric. Do you think you have eloquence enough to persuade your mistress to relinquish the prospect of a throne in your behalf?"
"I would not wish her to make any sacrifice upon my account," replied Edric.
"Confound such coldness! why, when I was a young man, my heart would have beat like a pendulum in perpetual motion at such a proposition. Go to her, man! and try your fortune.—
'She is a woman, therefore to be wooed;
She is a woman, therefore to be won;'
or rather what, perhaps, will be better, I will send for her here, and tell her my will. Egad! I have a mind to surprise Edmund, and let you grace his triumph as bride and bridegroom."
"Rosabella would never consent to such a proposition," exclaimed Edric, willing to postpone the dreaded explanation as long as possible.
"I think not," resumed the duke, "if you woo her with that face. However, you need not distress yourself, as you will have nothing to say till you get to the altar. I'll take all the rest upon myself, and I've a notion I shall prove the better suitor. I know women well, and how to manage them. I'll defy any woman in the world to have a will of her own whilst she is in my custody. I know how to quiet them and bring them round. You shall see how I will manage Rosabella. She won't have a word to say for herself. Here Augustus, tell the Princess Rosabella I wish to speak with her."
"Hold!" cried Edric, "I cannot allow you to send for the princess till I have first explained my real sentiments——"
"Nonsense!" said the duke. "However, I see there is no occasion to send for her; for yonder she comes. I will meet her and explain my sentiments, and then it will be quite time enough to talk about yours."
So saying, he broke from Edric, who attempted to detain him; and advanced to meet Rosabella.
"Good God!" exclaimed Edric, "what will become of me? this obstinate old man will tell her, I wish our union: and for worlds, I would not mortify the proud spirit of Rosabella, by publicly declining her hand. What shall I do? I must request a private interview, and throwing myself upon her mercy, persuade her to reject me."
"Then you still persist in your determination," said Sir Ambrose. "I had hoped my kindness in appearing to forget what passed yesterday, had disposed you to comply with my wishes. However, since you seem inclined to adhere to your resolution, you cannot be surprised that I should