Traducción
Original
Capítulo XI
Renuévase una equivocación y aclárase otra
Arabela, que vio a su tío venir, procuró evitar su conversación; pero este avivó el paso y la alcanzó.
—¡No te escaparás, sobrina mía! –la dijo, tomándola una mano.
Arabela, cortada, lo miró con miedo y con desvío.
—Soltad mi mano, señor, y no me forcéis a olvidar el respeto que os debo y a castigar el insulto que me hacéis.
Maravillado el barón, soltó la mano, fijó los ojos callando en su sobrina y luego la preguntó si era a él a quien se dirigía el término de insulto.
—Ciertamente que sí –replicó Arabela– y me mortifica mucho la precisión de haberlo de usar.
—Pídote que me digas, sobrina, ¿qué motivo te mueve a propasarte conmigo de ese modo?
—Sois hermano de mi padre y conozco el respeto que este título aconseja. Siempre que os limitéis a él, encontraréis en mí cuantas consideraciones os son debidas.
—Nada de eso entiendo y quisiera que me dijeses de que estás resentida, en términos menos ambiguos.
—Mejor que yo podéis conocer la especie de ofensa de que me quejo, porque no me parece decente revelar lo que la honestidad no permite sufrir.
—¡Por Dios santo! –exclamó encolerizado el barón–. ¿Qué es lo que quieres decir? ¿Has jurado volver locos a cuantos te rodean?
—¡Ay, tío! No permitáis que una pasión ciega vulnere para siempre vuestras virtudes.
—Sosiégate, sobrina: soy dueño de mí mismo, pero sí creo que, en mi lugar, pocos tendrían tanta paciencia debida solo al tierno afecto que te tengo.
—No digáis más, os lo suplico; llevad a otra parte esos afectos odiosos y dejad de perseguir a una sobrina que se reprende únicamente la flaqueza de compadeceros.
—¡Dios eterno! –gritó el tío, dando algunos pasos atrás–. ¡Cuánto compadezco a mi hijo! ¡Qué no diera yo porque estuviese enamorado de una criatura tan ridícula! p. 146
—No creáis que vuestro hijo sea para vos un obstáculo: os juro que del mismo modo pensaría si no existiese.
—No creí, sobrina, que mis procederes hubiesen merecido el odio y el desprecio que expresas con tanta libertad; mas pues ello es así, dejo tu quinta y te entrego a tu ingratitud.
—¡Ah, no! No me acuséis de ingrata: pongo por testigo el cielo de que jamás entró en mi corazón ese vicio. Si no hubiérais olvidado que era vuestra sobrina os hubiera mirado siempre como un segundo padre, que debía suplir la pérdida del que me dio el ser; pero una vez que la providencia dispuso que no tuviese yo este consuelo, me someto a sus decretos resignada: partid, pues, tío sobradamente infeliz –añadió vertiendo lágrimas–, partid y ¡ójala que, con la ausencia, recobréis vuestra tranquilidad! Cuando me deis pruebas de haber triunfado de los sentimientos que nos hacen mutuamente infelices, estad cierto de que hallaréis en mí consideraciones, miramiento y veneración.
Acabó de hablar así, se separó de su tío y lo dejó admiradísimo, de manera que estuvo algún tiempo en ademán de muy apesadumbrado y tan absorto que no oyó la voz de su hijo, que llegaba a saber el resultado de la conversación.
—¿Conque, padre mío –preguntó Glanville–, he hecho algunos progresos en el corazón de mi prima? Sin duda acabáis de hablarla de nuestro matrimonio.
—Te pido, hijo mío, que no vuelvas a hablarme de Arabela, porque es tan indigna de mi ternura como de tu amor.
Al oír esto Glanville, quedó pasmado: saliole al rostro la pena y la sangre que de sus venas se retiraba era anuncio de un movimiento violentísimo en su corazón.
—Estoy pesaroso –continuó el anciano– de que ames a una mujer tan ridículamente caprichosa. Si llegase a serlo tuya (que aún lo dudo) preveo que serás el hombre más desventurado; créeme, hijo, no pienses más en ello, conténtate con lo que mi hermano te dejó, que estos bienes, juntos con los míos, te pondrán en el caso de encontrar una mujer que, acaso, se glorifique de ser tuya.
—No conozca ninguna*, padre y señor –replicó Glanville suspirando–, capaz de borrar de mi alma el amor que tengo a mi prima: me lisonjeaba de que empezaba a amarme... Por Dios, decidme lo que entre vos y ella ha pasado y cuáles son sus motivos de repulsa o sus razones.
—¡Razones! Tan imposible es hallar razón en ella como hacérsela entender: cuantas* veces he querido hablar de ti me ha interrumpido con frases obscuras y misteriosas de que nada he podido comprender.
—¡Ah, padre! Supuesto que no se ha explicado, todavía no debo desesperar.
—Pero me ha dicho cosas que me han parecido muy impertinentes, aunque no las he entendido; en fin, su modo de portarse conmigo me repugna tanto que ni quiero vivir más tiempo con ella ni entender en sus negocios.
—Suspended, porque os lo ruego, vuestro resentimiento: aquí hay alguna equivocación; tiene mi prima, es cierto, un carácter muy raro, pero también un alma honrada y sensible. Voy a buscarla y a procurar ponerlo todo en claro. p. 147
—Haz lo que quieras, hijo mío, pero preveo que tus diligencias serán inútiles. Su cabeza está trastornada, no se la debe entregar el manejo de sus bienes y conozco que, cargándome con este manejo, tendré disgustos.
Persuadido, pues, Glanville a que su prima tenía culpa, no intentó justificarla. Acompañó a su padre a su cuarto y fue a ver a Arabela. Tenía esta apoyada la cabeza sobre una de sus manos y los ojos fijos sobre un libro abierto. Alegrose Glanville de encontrarla sola, la dio disculpas de haberla interrumpido y se sentó a su lado. Cerró Arabela su libro, notó agitación en los ojos de su primo y mostró deseos de saber la causa.
—Acabo de dejar a mi padre inquietísimo por algunas proposiciones que os ha oído; teme haberos agraviado e ignora sus culpas.
—¿Os ha informado vuestro padre del asunto de nuestra conversación?
—Sé lo que tenía que deciros, si hubierais usado la bondad de escucharlo: era cosa relativa a mí.
—¿A vos? ¡Pobre Glanville! ¡Cuánto compadezco vuestra ciega credulidad! No soy la que debo desengañaros, pero sí la que debo daros un consejo... Creedme: nunca confiéis vuestros negocios a persona interesada en abogar mal por vuestra causa.
Contento quedó Glanville con saber que la desavenencia entre su padre y ella procedía de una sospecha que le era favorable; asegurola de que nada anhelaba tanto su tío como merecer su estimación y que su objeto, en procurar hablarla a solas, no era otro que manifestarla lo mucho que deseaba darla el título de hija. Como Glanville conocía tanto el carácter de su prima, no se atrevió a hablarla naturalmente y usó de rodeos y de astucias. Arabela, no queriendo confesar lo que pensaba del anciano, respondió fríamente: que deseaba que así fuera, pero que dudaba de la sinceridad de su tío hasta que tuviese pruebas de ella. Impaciente Glanville de noticiar a su padre el error en que estaba, corrió a buscarlo.
—¿Es posible, hijo mío –le dijo el anciano, así que le hubo enterado– que fuese tan loca tu prima que creyese que yo la proponía otro marido que tú? ¿Qué razón tiene para forjarse semejantes quimeras?... Piensa unas extravagancias que disgustan mucho, pero es uno de los mejores partidos de Inglaterra... la pobre muchacha tenía razón para enfadarse si tal cosa creía; me acuerdo que lloró cuando la dije que me ausentaba y, no obstante, tuvo valor para conformarse... ¿Podía yo adivinar tal pensamiento? Voy, hijo mío, a reconciliarme con ella.
Fue en efecto a buscarla.
—Sobrina mía, vengo a disculparme contigo de haberte, sin intención, inducido a creer que...
—Vuestro proceder es sobradamente humilde: sois mi tío y no debo permitir sumisiones de parte vuestra; este título os dispensa de disculpas.
—Te protesto que nunca he…
—De todo me olvido, tío y señor: no recapitulemos nada. ¿Puedo, en fin, esperar que...? ¡Ay, cielos! ¿Tendréis aun presunción para alimentar una esperanza que la naturaleza y las leyes desaprueban? No, no esperéis cosa alguna.
—El demonio anda en esto –dijo entre dientes el barón–. Te juro, por lo más respetable y santo que hay en el mundo, que quería hablarte en favor de mi hijo. p. 148
—¡En favor de vuestro hijo! En fin, sois justo, pero ¿persistiréis?
—A fe mía, sobrina, que renuncio al intento de convencerte, porque es imposible.
—No, tío mío, no lo es: mis deseos, de acuerdo con lo que me decís, contribuirán a persuadirme.
Iba el barón a abrir la boca, pero Arabela lo interrumpió diciéndole:
—Tío, hay casos en que el silencio prueba más que las palabras: creedme y elegidlo.
Irritose el barón de una orden tan seca de parte de su sobrina y ya iba a salir de malísimo humor cuando avisaron que estaba la sopa en la mesa. Arabela, entonces, con graciosa sonrisa, le presentó la mano y lo acompañó hasta la sala de comer, donde estaban Belmur, Carlota, y Glanville.
i Elimino la coma después de la partícula negativa del comienzo que aparece en el original y mantengo la forma verbal en subjuntivo: creo que hay que entender la frase de Glanville como un desiderátum: ‘que no conozca a ninguna capaz de borrar de mi alma…’ Tanto el original inglés (V.5) como la traducción francesa (II.iii.14) apoyan esta lectura.
ii cuantas] cuántas.
Chapter V
In which will be found one of the former mistakes pursued, and another cleared up,
to the great satisfaction of two persons, among whom the reader, we expect, will
make a third.
Arabella no sooner saw Sir Charles advancing towards her than, sensible of the consequence of being alone with a person whom she did not doubt would make use of that advantage to talk to her of love, she endeavoured to avoid him, but in vain; for Sir Charles, guessing her intentions, walked hastily up to her; and, taking hold of her hand:
“You must not go away, Lady Bella,” said he, “I have something to say to you.”
Arabella, extremely discomposed at this behaviour, struggled to free her hand from her uncle; and giving him a look, on which disdain and fear were visibly painted:
“Unhand me, sir,” said she, “and force me not to forget the respect I owe you as my uncle, by treating you with a severity such uncommon insolence demands.”
Sir Charles, letting go her hand in a great surprise at the word 'insolent,' which she had used, asked her if she knew to whom she was speaking.
“Questionless, I am speaking to my uncle,” replied she. “And it is with great regret I see myself obliged to make use of expressions no [33] way conformable to the respect I bear that sacred character.”
“And, pray, madam,” said Sir Charles, somewhat softened by this speech, “who is it that obliges you to lay aside that respect you seem to acknowledge is due to your uncle?”
“You do, sir,” replied she, “and it is with infinite sorrow that I behold you assuming a character unbecoming the brother of my father.”
“This is pretty plain, indeed,” interrupted Sir Charles. “But pray, madam, inform me what it is you complain of.”
“You questionless know much better than I can tell you,” replied Arabella, blushing, “the offence I accuse you of; nor is it proper for me to mention what it would not become me to suffer.”p. 192
“Zounds!”* cried Sir Charles, no longer able to suppress his growing anger. “This is enough to make a man mad.”
“Ah! I beseech you, sir,” resumed Arabella, “suffer not an unfortunate and ill-judged passion to be the bane of all your happiness and virtue. Recall your wandering thoughts; reflect upon the dishonour you will bring upon yourself by persisting in such unjustifiable sentiments.”
“I do not know how it is possible to avoid it,” said Sir Charles. “And, notwithstanding all this fine reasoning, there are few people but would fly into greater extremities; but my affection for you makes me—”
“Hold, hold, I conjure you, sir,” interrupted Arabella. “Force me not to listen to such injurious [34] language; carry that odious affection somewhere else; and do not persecute an unfortunate maid who has contributed nothing to thy fault, and is only guilty of too much compassion for thy weakness.”
“Good God!” cried Sir Charles, starting back, and looking upon Arabella with astonishment. “How I pity my son! What would I not give if he did not love this girl?”
“Think not,” replied Arabella, “that the passion your son has for me makes your condition a bit the worse; for I would be such as I am with respect to you, were there no Mr. Glanville in the world.”
“I never thought, niece,” said Sir Charles, after a little pause, “that any part of my behaviour could give you the offence you complain of, or authorise that hatred and contempt you take the liberty to express for me. But since it is so, I promise you I will quit your house, and leave you to yourself; I have always been solicitous for your welfare, and ungrateful as you are—”
“Call me not ungrateful,” interrupted Arabella again. “Heaven is my witness that had you not forgot I was your niece, I would have always remembered you were my uncle; and not only have regarded you as such, but have looked upon you as another father, under whose direction Providence had placed me, since it had deprived me of my real father, and whose tenderness and care might have in some measure supplied the loss I had of him. But heaven has decreed it otherwise; and since it is its* will that I should be deprived of the [35] comfort and assistance my orphan state requires, I must submit, without murmuring, to my destiny. Go then, unfortunate and lamented uncle,” pursued she, wiping some tears from her fine eyes. “Go, and endeavour by reason and absence to recover thy repose; and be assured, whenever you can convince me you have triumphed over these sentiments, which now cause both our unhappiness, you shall have no cause to complain of my conduct towards you.”p. 193
Finishing these words, she left him with so much speed that it would have been impossible for him to have stopped her, though he had intended it. But indeed he was so lost in wonder and confusion at a behaviour for which he was not able to assign any other cause than madness that he remained fixed in the same posture of surprise, in which she had left him; and from which he was first interrupted by the voice of his son, who, seeing Arabella flying towards the house in great seeming emotion, came to know the result of their conversation.
“Sir,” said Mr. Glanville, who had spoken to his father before, but had no answer, “will you not inform me what success you have had with my cousin? How did she receive your proposal?”
“Speak of her no more,” said Sir Charles, “she is a proud ungrateful girl and unworthy the affection you have for her.”
Mr. Glanville, who trembled to hear so unfavourable an answer to his enquiries, was struck dumb with his surprise and grief; when [36] Sir Charles, taking notice of the alteration in his countenance:
“I am sorry,” said he, “to find you have set your heart upon this fantastic girl. If ever she be your wife, which I very much doubt, she will make you very unhappy. But, Charles,” pursued he, “I would advise you to think no more of her; content yourself with the estate you gain by her refusal of you. With that addition to your own fortune, you may pretend* to any lady whatever; and you will find many that are full as agreeable as your cousin, who will be proud of your addresses.”
“Indeed, sir,” said Mr. Glanville, with a sigh, “there is no woman upon earth whom I would choose to marry, but Lady Bella. I flattered myself I had been happy enough to have made some progress in her affection, but it seems I was mistaken; however, I should be glad to know if she gave you any reasons for refusing me.”
“Reasons!” said Sir Charles. “There is no making her hear reason, or expecting reason from her; I never knew so strange a woman in my life: she would not allow me to speak what I intended concerning you; but interrupted me every moment, with some high-flown stuff or other.”
“Then I have not lost all hopes of her,” cried Mr. Glanville eagerly, “for since she did not hear what you had to say, she could not possibly deny you.”p. 194
“But she behaved in a very impertinent manner to me,” interrupted Sir Charles, “complained of my harsh treatment of her; and said several [37] other things, which, because of her uncommon style, I could not perfectly understand. Yet they seemed shocking; and, upon the whole, treated me so rudely that I am determined to leave her to herself, and trouble my head no more about her.”
“For God’s sake, dear sir,” said Mr. Glanville, alarmed at this resolution, “suspend your anger till I have seen my cousin: there is some mistake, I am persuaded, in all this. I know she has some very odd humours, which you are not so well acquainted with, as I am. I’ll go to her, and prevail upon her to explain herself.”
“You may do so, if you please,” replied Sir Charles. “But I fear it will be to very little purpose, for I really suspect her head is a little turned. I do not know what to do with her: it is not fit she should have the management of herself, and yet it is impossible to live upon easy terms with her.
Mr. Glanville, who did not doubt but Arabella had been guilty of some very ridiculous folly, offered nothing more in her justification; but, having attended his father to his own chamber, went to Arabella’s apartment.
He found the pensive fair one in a melancholy posture, her head reclined upon one of her fair hands; and though her eyes were fixed upon a book she held in the other, yet she did not seem to read, but rather to be wholly buried in contemplation.
Mr. Glanville, having so happily found her alone (for her women were not then in her chamber), seated himself near her, having first [38] asked pardon for the interruption he had given to her studies; and Arabella, throwing aside her book, prepared to listen to his discourse, which by the agitation which appeared in his looks, she imagined would be upon some extraordinary subject.
“I left my father just now,” said he, “in a great deal of uneasiness, on account of something you said to him, Lady Bella. He apprehends you are disobliged, and he would willingly know how.”
“Has your father then acquainted you with the subject of our conversation?” interrupted Arabella.
“I know what would have been the subject of your conversation,” replied Mr. Glanville, “if you had been pleased to listen to what Sir Charles intended to say to you on my behalf.”
“On your behalf?” interrupted Arabella. “Ah, poor deceived Glanville! How I pity thy blind sincerity! But it is not for me to undeceive thee. Only thus much I must say to you: beware of committing your interests to a person who will be a much better advocate for another than for you.”
Mr. Glanville, rejoiced to find by these words that her resentment against his father was occasioned by a suspicion so favourable for him, assured her that Sir Charles wished for nothing more earnestly than that he might be able to merit her esteem; and that it was to dispose her to listen to his addresses that he wanted to discourse with her that morning.
[39] Mr. Glanville, being obliged, through his knowledge of his cousin’s temper, to speak to her in this distant manner, went on with his assurances of his father’s candour in this respect; and Arabella, who would not declare her reasons for doubting it, only replied that she wished Sir Charles meant all that he had said to him; but that she could not persuade herself to believe him sincere till his future actions had convinced her he was so.p. 195
Mr. Glanville, impatient to let his father know how greatly he had been mistaken in the cause of Arabella’s behaviour, made his visit shorter than he would otherwise have done, in order to undeceive him.
“Is it possible,” said Sir Charles, when his son had repeated the conversation he had just had with Arabella, “that she could be so foolish as to imagine I had a design to propose anyone else to her but you? What reason have I ever given her to think I would not be glad to have her for my daughter-in-law? Indeed, she has some odd ways that are very disagreeable, but she is one of the best matches in England for all that. Poor girl!” pursued he. “She had reason to be angry if that was the case; and now I remember she cried when I told her I would leave the house, yet her spirit was so great that she told me I might go. Well, I’ll go and make it up with her, but who could have imagined she would have been so foolish?”
Sir Charles, at the repetition of these words, hurried away to Arabella’s apartment.
[40] “Niece,” said he at his entrance, “I am come to ask you pardon, for having led you into a belief that I meant—”
“It is enough, sir,” interrupted Arabella. “I grant you my pardon for what is past; and as it does not become me to receive submissions from my uncle, while he remembers he is so, I will dispense with your acknowledgments at present; only to convince me that this sudden alteration is sincere, avoid, I beseech you, for the future, all occasions of displeasing me.”
“I protest,” cried Sir Charles, “that I never intended—”
“I will not hear you say a word more of your past intentions,” interrupted Arabella again. “I have forgot them all; and, while you continue to regard me as your niece, I will never remember them to your disadvantage.”
“Then I may hope—” said Sir Charles.
“Oh! Heavens!” cried Arabella, not suffering him to proceed. “Do you come to insult me thus, with a mock repentance? And has my easiness in being so ready to forget the injury you would have done me made you presumptuous enough to cherish an insolent hope that I will ever change my resolution?”
“How vexatious is this!” replied Sir Charles, fretting to see her continually mistaking him. “I swear to you, by all that is sacred, that it is my son for whom I would solicit your consent.”
“How!” said Arabella, astonished. “Will you then be just at last? And can you resolve to plead for that son, whose interest, but a moment ago, you would have destroyed?”
[41] “I see,” said Sir Charles, “it is impossible to convince you.”
“No, no!” interrupted Arabella, hastily. “It is not impossible but my own ardent wishes that it may be so will help to convince me of the truth of what you say. For, in fine, do you think, I shall not be as glad as yourself, to find you capable of acting honourably by your son, and to see myself no longer the cause of the most unjustifiable conduct imaginable?p. 196
Sir Charles was opening his mouth to press her in favour of Mr. Glanville, whom, notwithstanding her strange behaviour, he was glad to find she loved, when Arabella preventing him:
“Seek not, I beseech you,” said she, “to destroy that belief I am willing to give your words, by any more attempts at this time to persuade me; for truly, I shall interpret your solicitude no way in your favour; therefore, if you desire I should be convinced you are sincere, let the silence I require of you be one proof of it.”
Sir Charles, who looked excessively out of countenance at such a peremptory command from his niece, was going out of her chamber, in a very ill humour, when the dinner bell ringing, she gave him her hand with a very gracious air; and permitted him to lead her into the dining room, where they found Mr. Glanville, his sister and Sir George, who had been detained to dinner* by Miss Glanville, expecting their coming.