Traducción
Original
Capítulo XI
Aventura maravillosísima
Carlota, cuya imaginación se había risueñamente exaltado con la vista de los chapiteles de Londres, hizo a su prima el catálogo de las diversiones que iba a disfrutar, pero con tan gran volubilidad de lengua que su padre, fastidiado, la impuso silencio. Llegaron a la plaza de San Jacobo, donde tenía su casa el barón; este había mandado que se preparase para su sobrina la habitación que sirvió a su difunta esposa153. Inmediatamente la ocupó Arabela y lo primero que hizo fue arreglar su pequeña biblioteca portátil, que nunca separaba de ella. Carlota despachó un ciento de esquelas154, noticiando a las amigas suyas su llegada y, después, pasó al cuarto de Arabela, en donde, bebiendo el té, dispuso todas las diversiones de una semana, las que fueron tantas que Arabela, admirada, preguntó si podría verificarse aquello en un año.
—¡Un año! Esto es cosa de pocos días.
—Pues siendo así, el modo de vivir de Londres me parece muy extraordinario.
—Eres tan seria, prima mía, que es bien difícil divertirte, pero no tendrás precisión de ir a los espectáculos que no te gustaren y, a lo más, si te parece, recibirás algunas visitas155.
—Ciertamente que sí, y como, entre las damas que yo vea, haya algunas tan amables como la condesa de *** tendré mucha complacencia de estrechar con ellas amistad.
—La condesa de *** no es despreciable, pero me disgusta sin saber por qué: tiene unas rarezas que todo el mundo nota, como, por ejemplo, las de abominar del juego y hablar de modo que molesta a las gentes de fina sociedad. Pocos días antes de que fuese a verte estuve con ella en una concurrencia e hizo bostezar a los más que la componían. p. 219
Arabela, allá en lo interior de su alma, ni gustaba del carácter de su prima ni de sus opiniones y, aunque quedó mortificada de oír hablar mal de una persona que la arrebataba la admiración, respondió, no obstante, sin acritud, que la condesa ocupaba el primer lugar en su estimación, hasta encontrar otra dama de mérito superior al suyo. Educó a Arabela su padre entre preocupaciones contra la corte. Propúsola Glanville el ir a un gran baile que se daba en ella, pero no quiso ir sino incógnita. Sus lecturas la habían de tal manera familiarizado con la grandeza y el brillo, que de nada se admiró y notó sencillamente que no había hombre alguno que correspondiese a la idea que tenía formada de Artabano, de Orondates y de Juba, ni mujer alguna semejante a Elisa, Mandana o Estatira; pero sin decir cosa que pudiese hacerla reparable. Glanville quedó pagado de su manejo, la inclinó a que fuese a ver lo más notable de la capital y sufrió la mortificación de hallarse engañado en su concepto, porque Arabela continuó en sus quimeras por todas partes. Preguntó al alcaide de la Torre los nombres de los caballeros a quienes pertenecían las corazas que vio en la sala de armas y se admiró de ver los escudos sin divisas, y los morriones sin penachos; notó que el león que mató Lisimaco era más corpulento y fiero que el que la enseñaron; sostuvo que la iglesia de San Pablo no era tan magnífica como el templo en que Ciro oyó a Mandana dar gracias al cielo por su muerte; se informó de si era estilo de corte el ir a pasearse por las orillas del Támesis, como Augusto por las del Tíber, y también de cuáles eran los días en que se celebraban los juegos y los torneos en la plaza de San Jacobo. La estación de Vaux-Hall, o sala de concurrencia general, aún no había pasado y quiso ver aquel jardín magnífico que, según se lo había ella figurado, debía parecerse al de Lúculo156. Lo extraño del vestido de Arabela le atrajo muchas miradas y llegó hasta verse oprimida de la multitud, de modo que quiso volverse a su casa, pero, en aquel instante mismo, paró su atención una aventura singularísima. Cierto oficial de distinción había acompañado a su querida disfrazada de hombre. La moza, algo tomada del vino, se comportó de manera que descubrió su sexo; un pisaverde, que quiso hacer reír a los espectadores, armó con ella quimera por un leve motivo e intentó precisarla a admitir desafío. La vista de una espada desnuda asustó a la amazona; protestó que era mujer y buscó a su protector, mas este se había quedado dormido y no estaba para defenderla. Carlota, curiosísima de averiguar qué era aquello, se entró por la muchedumbre, arrastró consigo a Arabela y se informó de la causa de la popular conmoción. Dijéronla que un joven había sacado la espada contra una mujer disfrazada de hombre.
—¡Ah, cielos! –exclamó Arabela–. Apuesto a que van a descubrirse circunstancias semejantes a las de Aspasia… ¿No podré ver a esa infeliz?
Procuró Glanville contenerla, mas viéndolo imposible, se determinó a seguirla. Hendió Arabela por entre la gente157, se quitó el velo y mostró una cara tan hermosa que todos la abrieron paso; de lo que sí se admiraban era de verla seria, cuando todos reían. Estaba la trémula amazona sentada sobre un banco de piedra y a sus pies su antagonista, dándola chistosas disculpas. Habíasela caído el sombrero y su pelo suelto y esparcido la presentó a tan buena luz, que Arabela se aficionó instantáneamente a su persona.
—Desconocida encantadora –la dijo–, ignoro vuestro nombre, mas no dudo que sois bien nacida; me obligáis a que os estime y os ofrezco, de corazón, cuantos socorros pendan de mi arbitrio. p. 220
Estaba Glanville confundido y mortificado de ver a su prima representar un papel tan ridículo en una escena tan pública y aguantaba dolorosamente las hablillas y bufonadas que le llegaban a los oídos. Agarró de la mano a su prima y procuró apartarla de aquel sitio, pero ella lo miró con severidad, desatendió a Carlota, que la suplicaba que no se expusiera, y reiteró sus ofertas a la desconocida. Aquella moza, algo repuesta de su temor, clavó los ojos en Arabela y, movida a veneración al aspecto de una bienhechora de aquella especie, la dio gracias humildísimas.
—Dejemos este sitio –la dijo nuestra heroína tomándola por la mano–, porque sin duda es necesario que se ignore quién sois: conozco a un hombre, igualmente generoso que valiente, sobre quien tengo tanto imperio que puedo persuadirme a que, por mi recomendación, os libertará de vuestros perseguidores.
El pisaverde, arrodillado todavía y haciendo mil monadas, le tomó la otra mano a la amazona y juró que no habían de quitársela hasta hacer con ella las paces. Desesperado ya Glanville, se esforzó de nuevo a llevarse a su prima.
—Es una extravagancia –la dijo al oído– tomar la defensa de una prostituida... No miráis, prima, que todos se burlan de vos… os estáis dando en espectáculo… por amor de Dios que nos vayamos.
—¡Cómo! –replicó Arabela encolerizada–. ¡Seriáis tan bajo que dejaseis a esa desgraciada entre las manos de un raptor, llevando al lado una arma que!...
—¡Hola… hola! –gritó el oficial amante de la moza, así que despertó–. ¿De qué tratamos? ¿Dónde está mi Lucía? ¿Es con ella con quien las han? ¡Cuánta gente hay aquí junta!... Amigo –dijo al calavera, que tenía asida la mano de su moza–, ¿qué queréis hacer de mi Lucía?...
Dijo algunas cosas más en estilo soldadesco, tiró de su espada y, en breve rato, desembarazó el puesto de curiosos. Arabela asió a Carlota por la mano y, huyendo como iba, encomendó a Glanville el cuidado de la desdichada. Algunos instantes después fue Glanville a reunirse con su prima y la dijo, para sosegarla, que el adorado amante de aquella dama acababa de arrancarla de las manos de sus perseguidores y que se había adquirido mucha gloria.
—¿Estáis bien seguro de ello, Glanville? Ya sabéis que Candaza, reina de Etiopía, fue robada mientras se la estaban disputando otros dos raptores.
—Os aseguro, prima mía, que ha seguido a su amante gustosísima… con que así, no estéis más inquieta.
—Temo alguna equivocación: Candaza, por ejemplo…
—Candaza es una… En fin, repítoos que os tranquilicéis.
—Vuestro estilo enojado, Glanville, me hace creer que tenéis alguna parte en esta aventura… ¿Sabéis su historia?
—Sí, y os la contaré en tomando el coche.
Arabela, muerta de curiosidad, mostró deseo de dejar a Vaux-Hall y Glanville se aprovechó de aquel momento para volverla a casa de su padre. p. 221
Así que entraron en el coche, apremió Arabela a Glanville para que la cumpliera lo prometido; iba este de mal humor y respondió secamente que nada tenía que ver con personas de la especie de aquella por quien se interesaba tanto.
—¡Pues cómo! … ¿No me habéis ofrecido la narración de sus aventuras?... Queréis darme a entender ahora que no la conocéis.
—Por cierto que no... Solamente sé que es indigna de los miramientos que con ella habéis usado.
—Difícil es que sea más indiscreta que Hermiona, a quien, sin embargo, no se la puede negar un alma grande158.
—Ni a mí una paciencia bien probada –repuso Glanville.
—Voy, pues, a contaros lo que la sucedió… Bien sabéis el acaso que la proporcionó el conocimiento de la princesa Deidamia…
—No, en verdad, no lo sé.
—Pues bien, os lo referiré... pero es sobradamente largo de contar: mañana satisfaré vuestro curioso deseo.
Glanville, sin responder una palabra, hizo un movimiento de cabeza y llegó, pocos instantes después, a casa de su padre, bien determinado a nunca más llevar a su prima a paraje alguno público. Carlota no faltó a contar a su padre todo lo acaecido; tenía este anciano violentísimas sospechas de que su sobrina estaba loca y examinó detenidamente si le convendría, o no, hacerla su nuera. Comunicó a su hijo este pensamiento y le preguntó si podría tolerar en su mujer lo que lo avergonzaba en su querida. Glanville, aunque enamoradísimo, sintió toda la fuerza de aquel razonamiento y se convino a no casarse con Arabela, mientras estuviese tan locamente encaprichada con su heroísmo.
—Desespero –dijo con mucho dolor– de corregirla; todo cuanto ve lo refiere a sus ideas y todo, por la acalorada viveza de su imaginación, la afirma en sus errores.
153 St. James Square, en el distrito de St. James en Londres, es una plaza de estilo georgiano y neogeorgiano que incluye un jardín privado en el centro. Fue lugar muy de moda desde su construcción hasta el primer tercio del siglo xix.
154 ‘despachó un ciento de cartas’; una esquela es un «papel breve o pequeño que se escribe a alguna persona» (Terreros y Pando, NTLLE).
155 ‘no tendrás obligación’.
156 Se reúnen en este pasaje tres lugares característicos de la ciudad: la Torre de Londres, castillo medieval situado en la ribera norte del río Támesis utilizado como prisión durante siglos; la catedral de San Pablo, en la parte más alta de aquella, de estilo barroco inglés y construida entre 1676 y 1710 según los planos diseñados por sir Christopher Wren. Los jardines de Vauxhall, originalmente conocidos como New Spring Gardens, en Kennington, en la orilla sur del Támesis, constituían una amplia zona de recreo con numerosos árboles, plantas y paseos, que sirvieron de lugar de concurrencia a la población londinense. Mantuvieron su atractivo hasta mediados del siglo xix en que su solar se utilizó para la construcción. Los jardines de Vauxhall se comparan al de la villa romana de Lucio Licinio Lúculo (118–56 a.C.), que fue definido por Plutarco en los siguientes términos: «como los jardines de Lúculo se cuentan entre los más magníficos de los emperadores» (Lúculo XXXIX). La referencia al león que mató a Lisimaco aparece en Cassandre II.2 (Dalziel 413).
157 ‘Atravesó Arabela entre la gente’.
158 Las historias de Hermiona y Deidamia, a la que se menciona unas líneas más abajo, aparecen en Cassandre III.3 y V.1 (Dalziel 413).
BOOK IX
Chapter I
In which is related an admirable adventure.
Miss Glanville, whose spirits were greatly exhilarated at their entrance into London, that seat of magnificence and pleasure, congratulated her cousin upon the entertainment she would receive from the new and surprising objects which every day for a considerable time would furnish her with; and ran over the catalogue of diversions with such a volubility of tongue, as drew a gentle reprimand from her father, and made her keep a sullen silence till they were set down in [244] St. James’s Square, the place of their residence in town.
Sir Charles having ordered his late lady’s apartment to be prepared for the accommodation of his niece, as soon as the first civilities were over, she retired to her chamber where she employed herself in giving her women directions for placing her books, of which she had brought a moderate quantity to London, in her closet.
Miss Glanville, as soon as she had dispatched away some hundred cards to her acquaintance, to give them notice she was in town, attended Arabella in her own apartment; and as they sat at the tea she began to regulate the diversions of the week, naming the drawing room, park, concert, Ranelagh, Lady …’s assembly, the duchess of …’s rout,* Vauxhall and a long etcetera of visits, at which Arabella, with an accent that expressed her surprise, asked her if she supposed she intended to stay in town three or four years.
“Law, cousin” said Miss Glanville, “all this is but the amusement of a few days.”
“Amusement, do you say?” replied Arabella. “Methinks it seems to be the sole employment of those days. And what you call the amusement must of necessity be the business of life.”
“You are always so grave, cousin,” said Miss Glanville, “one does not know what to say to you. However, I shall not press you to go to public places against your inclination, yet you’ll condescend to receive a few visits, I suppose?”
“Yes,” replied Arabella, “and if among the ladies whom I shall see I find any like the amiable [245] countess of …, I shall not scruple to enter into the most tender amity with them.”
“The countess of … is very well, to be sure,” said Miss Glanville, “yet I don’t know how it is she does not suit my taste—She is very particular in a great many things, and knows too much for a lady, as I heard my lord Trifle* say one day. Then she is quite unfashionable: she hates cards, keeps no assembly, is seen but seldom at public places; and in my opinion, as well as in a great many others, is the dullest company in the world. I’m sure I met her at a visit a little before I went down to your seat, and she had not been a quarter of an hour in the room, before she set a whole circle of ladies a-yawning.”
Arabella, though she had a sincere contempt for her cousin’s manner of thinking, yet always politely concealed it; and vexed as she was at her sneers upon the countess, she contented herself with gently defending her, telling her at the same time that till she met with a lady who had more merit than the countess,* she should always possess the first place in her esteem.p. 303
Arabella, who had from youth adopted the resentments of her father, refused to make her appearance at court, which Sir Charles gently intimated* to her; yet being not wholly divested of the curiosity natural to her sex, she condescended to go incognito to the gallery on a ball night, accompanied by Mr. Glanville and his sister, in order to behold the splendour of the British Court.
[246] As her romances had long familiarised her thoughts to objects of grandeur and magnificence, she was not so much struck as might have been expected with those that now presented themselves to her view. Nor was she a little disappointed to find that among the men she saw none whose appearance came up to her ideas of the air and port of an Artaban, Oroondates, or Juba; or any of the ladies, who did not in her opinion, fall short of the perfections of Elisa, Mandana, Statira, etcetera. It was remarkable too that she never enquired how often the princesses had been carried away by love-captivated* monarchs, or how many victories the king’s sons had gained; but seemed the whole time she was there to have suspended all her romantic ideas of glory, beauty, gallantry, and love.
Mr. Glanville was highly pleased with her composed behaviour, and a day or two after entreated her to allow him the honour of showing her what was remarkable and worthy of her observation in this great metropolis. To this she also consented, and for the greater privacy began their travels in a hired coach.
Part of several days were taken up in this employment; but Mr. Glanville had the mortification to find she was full of allusions to her romances upon every occasion, such as her asking the person who shows the armoury at the Tower the names of the knights to whom each suit belonged, and wondering there were no devices on the shields or plumes of feathers in the helmets. She observed that the lion Lysimachus killed was, according to the history of [247] that prince, much larger than any of those she was showed in the Tower, and also much fiercer; took notice that St. Paul’s was less magnificent in the inside than the temple in which Cyrus, when he went to Mandana, heard her return thanks for his supposed death; enquired if it was not customary for the king and his whole court to sail in barges upon the Thames, as Augustus used to do upon the Tyber, whether they had not music and collations in the Park, and where they celebrated the jousts and tournaments.
The season for Vauxhall being not yet over, she was desirous of once seeing a place, which by the description she had heard of it, greatly resembled the gardens of Lucullus at Rome, in which the emperor, with all the princes and princesses of his court were so nobly entertained, and where so many gallant conversations had passed among those admirable persons.
The singularity of her dress, for she was covered with her veil, drew a number of gazers after her, who pressed round her with so little respect that she was greatly embarrassed, and had thoughts of quitting the place, delightful as she owned it, immediately, when her attention was wholly engrossed by an adventure in which she soon interested herself very deeply.
An officer of rank in the sea-service* had brought his mistress disguised in a suit of man’s or rather boy’s clothes, and a hat and feather, into the gardens. The young creature being a little intoxicated with the wine she had taken too freely was thrown so much off her [248] guard as to give occasion to some of the company to suspect her sex; and a gay fellow, in order to give them some diversion at her expense, pretending to be affronted at something she said, drew his sword upon the disguised fair one, which so alarmed her that she shrieked out she was a woman, and ran for protection to her lover, who was so disordered with liquor that he was not able to defend her.p. 304
Miss Glanville, ever curious and inquisitive, demanded the cause why the company ran in crowds to that particular spot, and received for answer that a gentleman had drawn his sword upon a lady disguised in a man’s habit.
“Oh heavens!” cried Arabella. “This must certainly be a very notable adventure. The lady has doubtless some extraordinary circumstances in her story, and haply upon enquiry her misfortunes will be found to resemble those which obliged the beautiful Aspasia to put on the same disguise, who was by that means murdered by the cruel Zenodorus in a fit of jealousy at the amity his wife expressed for her. But can I not see this unfortunate fair one?” added she, pressing in spite of Mr. Glanville’s entreaties through the crowd. “I may haply be able to afford her some consolation.”
Mr. Glanville, finding his persuasions were not regarded, followed her with very little difficulty. For her veil falling back in her hurry, she did not mind to replace it, and the charms of her face joined to the majesty of her person, and singularity of her dress, attracting every person’s attention and respect, they made way for her to pass, not a little surprised [249] at the extreme earnestness and solemnity that appeared in her countenance upon an event so diverting to everyone else.
The disguised lady whom she was endeavouring to approach had thrown herself upon a bench in one of the boxes, trembling still with the apprehension of the sword, though her antagonist was kneeling at her feet, making love to her in mock-heroics* for the diversion of the company.
Her hat and peruke* had fallen off in her fright, and her hair, which had been turned up under it, hung now loosely about her neck, and gave such an appearance of woe to a face, which notwithstanding the paleness that terror had overspread it with, was really extremely pretty that Arabella was equally struck with compassion and admiration of her.
“Lovely unknown,” said she to her, with an air of extreme tenderness, “though I am a stranger both to your name and history, yet your aspect persuadeth me your quality is not mean, and the condition and disguise in which I behold you showing that you are unfortunate, permit me to offer you all the assistance in my power, seeing that I am moved thereto by my compassion for your distress, and that esteem which the sight of you must necessarily inspire.”
Mr. Glanville was struck dumb with confusion at this strange speech, and at the whispers and scoffs it occasioned among the spectators. He attempted to take hold of her hand in order to lead her away, but she disengaged herself from him with a frown of displeasure; and taking no notice of Miss Glanville—who whispered [250] with great emotion: “Lord, cousin, how you expose yourself!”—pressed nearer to the beautiful disguised, and again repeated her offers of service.
The girl,* being perfectly recovered from her intoxication by the fright she had been in, gazed upon Arabella with a look of extreme surprise. Yet being moved to respect by the dignity of her appearance, and strange as her words seemed to be by the obliging purport of them, and the affecting earnestness with which they were delivered, she rose from her seat and thanked her, with an accent full of regard and submission.p. 305
“Fair maid,” said Arabella, taking her hand, “let us quit this place where your discovery may probably subject you to more dangers. If you will be pleased to put yourself into my protection, and acquaint me with the history of your misfortunes, I have interest enough with a valiant person who shall undertake to free you from your persecutions, and re-establish the repose of your life.”
The kneeling hero, who as well as everyone else that were present, had gazed with astonishment at Arabella during all this passage, perceiving she was about to rob him of the disguised fair, seized hold of the hand she had at liberty, and swore he would not part with her.
Mr. Glanville, almost mad with vexation, endeavoured to get Arabella away.
“Are you mad, madam,” said he in a whisper, “to make all this rout* about a prostitute? Do you see how everybody stares at you? What will they think?—For heaven’s sake, let us be gone!”
[251] “What, sir,” replied Arabella in a rage, “are you base enough to leave this admirable creature in the power of that man, who is questionless her ravisher, and will you not draw your sword in her defence?”
“Heyday!” cried the sea-officer,* waked* out of his stupid doze by the clamour about him. “What’s the matter here?—What are you doing? Where’s my Lucy? Zounds, sir!” said he to the young fellow who held her. “What business have you with my Lucy?”
And uttering a dreadful oath, drew out his sword, and staggered towards his gay rival, who observing the weakness of his antagonist, flourished with his sword to show his courage and frighten the ladies, who all ran away screaming. Arabella, taking Miss Glanville under the arm, cried out to Mr. Glanville as she left the place to take care of the distressed lady, and while the two combatants were disputing for her, to carry her away in safety.
But Mr. Glanville, without regarding this injunction, hastened after her and, to pacify her, told her the lady was rescued by her favourite lover, and carried off in triumph.
“But are you sure,” said Arabella, “it was not some other of her ravishers who carried her away, and not the person whom she has haply favoured with her affection? May not the same thing have happened to her, as did to the beautiful Candace, queen of Ethiopia, who, while two of her ravishers were fighting for her, a third whom she took for her deliverer came and carried her away.”
[252] “But she went away willingly, I assure you, madam,” said Mr. Glanville. “Pray don’t be in any concern about her—”p. 306
“If she went away willingly with him,” replied Arabella, “it is probable it may not be another ravisher. And yet if this person that rescued her happened to be in armour, and the visor of his helmet down, she might be mistaken as well as Queen Candace.”
“Well, well, he was not in armour, madam,” said Glanville, almost beside himself with vexation at her folly.
“You seem to be disturbed, sir,” said Arabella, a little surprised at his peevish tone. “Is there anything in this adventure which concerns you? Nay, now I remember you did not offer to defend the beautiful unknown. I am not willing to impute your inaction upon such an occasion to want of courage or generosity; perhaps you are acquainted with her history, and from this knowledge refused to engage in her defence.”
Mr. Glanville, perceiving the company gather from all parts to the walk they were in, told her he would acquaint her with all he knew concerning the disguised lady when they were in the coach on their return home; and Arabella, impatient for the promised story, proposed to leave the gardens immediately, which was gladly complied with by Mr. Glanville, who heartily repented his having carried her thither.p. 307
Chapter II
Which ends with a very unfavourable prediction for our heroine.
As soon as they were seated in the coach, she did not fail to call upon him to perform his promise. But Mr. Glanville, excessively out of humour at her exposing herself in the gardens, replied, without considering whether he should not offend her, that he knew no more of the disguised lady than anybody else in the place.
“How, sir!” replied Arabella. “Did you not promise to relate her adventures to me? And would you have me believe you knew no more of them than the rest of the cavaliers and ladies in the place?”
“Upon my soul, I don’t, madam,” said Glanville, “yet what I know of her is sufficient to let me understand she was not worth the consideration you seemed to have for her.”
“She cannot sure be more indiscreet than the fair and unfortunate Hermione,” replied Arabella, “who like her put on man’s apparel, through despair at the ill success of her passion for Alexander—And certain it is that, though the beautiful Hermione was guilty of one great error which lost her the esteem of Alexander, yet she had a high and noble soul, as was manifest by her behaviour and words when she was murdered* by the sword of Demetrius. ‘Oh! Death,’ cried she, as she was falling, ‘how sweet do I find [254] thee, and how much and how earnestly have I desired thee!’”
“Oh Lord! Oh Lord!” cried Mr. Glanville, hardly sensible of what he said. “Was there ever anything so intolerable!”
“You pity the unhappy Hermione, sir?” said Arabella, interpreting his exclamation her own way. “Indeed, she is well worthy of your compassion. And if the bare recital of the words she uttered at receiving her death’s wound affects you so much, you may guess what would have been your agonies, had you been Demetrius that gave it to her.”
Here Mr. Glanville groaning aloud through impatience at her absurdities.
“This subject affects you deeply, I perceive,” said Arabella. “There is no question but you would have acted in the same circumstance as Demetrius did. Yet let me tell you the extravagancy of his rage and despair for what he had innocently committed was imputed to him as a great imbecility, as was also the violent passion he conceived soon after for the fair Deidamia. You know the accident which brought that fair princess into his way.”p. 308
“Indeed I do not, madam,” said Glanville peevishly.
“Well, then I’ll tell you,” said Arabella, but, pausing a little: “The recital I have engaged myself to make,” added she, “will necessarily take up some hours’ time, as upon reflection I have found. So if you will dispense with my beginning it at present, I will satisfy your curiosity tomorrow, when I may be able to pursue it without interruption.”
[255] To this Mr. Glanville made no other answer than a bow with his head; and the coach a few moments after arriving at their own house, he led her to her apartment, firmly resolved never to attend her to any more public places while she continued in the same ridiculous folly.
Sir Charles, who had several times been in doubt whether Arabella was not really disordered in her senses, upon Miss Glanville’s account of her behaviour at the gardens, concluded she was absolutely mad, and held a short debate with himself whether he ought not to bring a commission of lunacy against her rather than marry her to his son, whom he was persuaded could never be happy with a wife so unaccountably absurd. Though he only hinted at this to Mr. Glanville, in a conversation he had with him while his dissatisfaction was at its height concerning Arabella, yet the bare supposition that his father ever thought of such a thing threw the young gentleman into such agonies that Sir Charles, to compose him, protested he would do nothing in relation to his niece that he would not approve of. Yet he expostulated with him on the absurdity of her behaviour, and the ridicule to which she exposed herself wherever she went, appealing to him whether in a wife he could think those follies supportable, which in a mistress occasioned him so much confusion.
Mr. Glanville, as much in love as he was, felt all the force of this inference, and acknowledged to his father that he could not think of marrying Arabella till the whims her romances [256] had put into her head were erased by a better knowledge of life and manners. But he added with a sigh that he knew not how this reformation would be effected; for she had such a strange facility in reconciling every incident to her own fantastic ideas that every new object added strength to the fatal deception she laboured under.
iRout] rant, 1752 (1st). obs. A gathering.
iiTrifle] fribble, 1752 (1st).
iiithe countess] the countess possessed, 1752 (1st).
ivintimated] To mention indirectly.
vlove-captivated] captivated, 1752 (1st).
visea-service] Naval service.
viimock-heroics] A burlesque imitation of the heroic style.
viiiperuke] A periwig, worn by men and women.
ixgirl] A prostitute.
xrout] A crowd.
xisea-officer] rare A naval officer.
xiiwaked] Variant form for woken.
xiiimurdered] run through, 1752 (1st).