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Capítulo IX
Carácter rarísimo, que se presenta en la escena
Envidiosa Carlota de las prendas de su prima, sintió mucho gozo de lo que esta se había ridiculizado en Bath; supo, con la mayor complacencia, que Tíncel la había pintado en las concurrencias de un modo que no la favorecía y dio noticia de esto a Glanville, quien se determinó a estorbarla que compareciese en público. No fue cosa difícil, porque Arabela únicamente salía por dar gusto. Carlota, que se vio, por aquel medio, libre de todo miramiento embarazoso, compareció en el público con más jovialidad, escuchó cuantas bufonadas se dijeron a cuenta de su prima y no se quedó corta en contribuir a ellas con cuanta hiel pudo mezclar. Las mujeres se desataron contra Arabela porque era más hermosa que todas y solo se reunieron para reír a costa suya. La célebre condesa de *** se halló en una de aquellas tertulias y tomó el partido de Arabela contra todos, y logró imponer algún silencio, así por el decoro y dignidad con que se explicaba, como por el concepto que se tenía de su mérito148. Se conocían pocas competidoras de esta dama en cuanto al talento y aventajaba a todas por su entendimiento y vasta lectura. Fue testigo del esplendor con que Arabela se presentó en el baile, a pesar de las sátiras con que la zahirieron, y la estudió lo suficiente para conocer que había en ella un buen caudal de ingenio, obscurecido con las ideas novelescas. Aquel descubrimiento promovió en ella la lástima y la impulsó a tomar la resolución generosa de libertar a tan bella mujer de las maliciosas zumbas a que se exponía. Alabó mucho la condesa el juicio de nuestra heroína, su hermosura, su gracia y su candor, y explicó delicadísimamente el cómo una joven dotada de imaginación viva, sola, sin guía y sin conocimiento del mundo podía concebir ideas tan originalmente extrañas, y para minorar las ridiculeces de Arabela, confesó que, cuando muchacha, se había también ella sumido en la lectura de las novelas heroicas y empezado a tener un modo de pensar muy parecido al de aquella señorita; el que no se le desvaneció hasta que se la presentaron ocasiones de ver el mundo y necesidades de conformarse a sus estilos149, y añadió a esto la condesa, que quería conocer a Arabela, a quien visitaría como más antigua residenta en Bath. Carlota contó a su hermano cuanto se había dicho en la concurrencia y le procuró con ello una satisfacción muy lisonjera. Conocía mucho, por su reputación, a la condesa de *** y concibió dulces esperanzas de que el trato y conversación de una mujer de aquel mérito causaría muy buenos efectos en el ánimo de Arabela.
Cumplió con su palabra la condesa, pues, dos días después, escribió una carta a Arabela anunciándola que tendría la honra de irla a ver después de comer. Así que llegó, la salió al encuentro nuestra heroína y la abrazó ansiosamente, como pudiera, a una amiga antigua que regresa de un viaje largo. Glanville, embarazadísimo, estudió la fisionomía de la condesa y sacó, por conjetura, que no la desagradaba aquella familiaridad. p. 214
—No podréis creer, extranjera amable –la dijo Arabela–, la impaciencia con que deseaba veros: me han hablado mucho de vuestras virtudes y os aseguro que me ha hecho tanta impresión que no vacilaría en viajar desde un extremo del mundo al otro, para daros una prueba de la sinceridad de mi afecto.
El barón, sorprendido, pegó un repullo al oír tal cumplimiento y Glanville se mordió los labios, sin atreverse a levantar los ojos150; pero la condesa, con dulzura y decoro, la contestó así:
—La satisfacción que siento en conoceros, preciosa Arabela, es tanta que me da a sospechar alguna desgracia próxima. La vida es un tejido de placeres y de amarguras, y sucede muy a menudo que los unos son precursores de las otras.
Embobada estaba Arabela, viendo un estilo semejante al suyo; pero Glanville, incomodadísimo porque sospechó a la dama con gana de divertirse y el barón, creyéndola de buena fe, tan extravagante como su sobrina.
—Verdad es –repuso Arabela– que la virtud está expuesta a los caprichos de la suerte. Las desventuras de Estatira o Casandra (porque los dos nombres tuvo) y la adversidad que experimentó Candaza y las aflicciones de Mandana prueban que las personas de mayor ilustración no están a cubierto de los golpes de la fortuna.
—Convengo –replicó la condesa– en que las princesas que acabáis de nombrar fueron desgraciadas, pero olvidáis a una que lo fue tanto como esas; olvidáis a Elisa, princesa de los Partos.
—Perdonad, señora –interrumpió Arabela–, no pienso del mismo modo. La princesa de los Partos puede sin duda incluirse en la clase de las desventuradas ilustres, pero lo fue más que ella la divina Cleopatra: ¿qué males sufrió a que no estuvo Cleopatra expuesta? Si Elisa, por la tiranía de su padre, estuvo para dar la mano a un hombre que aborrecía, la hija de Antonio se vio en el mismo caso con Tiberio, príncipe cruel, tan odiado de ella como de todo el mundo; si Elisa cayó en poder de un pirata, Cleopatra fue cautiva de un bárbaro y, en fin, si Elisa padeció la pena de ver en prisiones a su amado Artabano, por orden de Augusto, Cleopatra vio las angustias mortales de Coriolano condenado a una muerte ignominiosa.
—Preciso es confesar –dijo la condesa– que fueron grandísimas las desdichas de esos personajes. Mientras más se medita en las peligrosas aventuras a que estuvieron expuestas en sus tiempos, más parece que debemos felicitarnos de haber nacido en un siglo en que los modales, los estilos y las costumbres son tan diferentes. Personas hay que no pueden persuadirse a que haya habido princesas que navegasen por esos mares disfrazadas en trajes varios, que fuesen robadas con violencia, que habitasen en los bosques, que viviesen en islas desiertas y que todo esto lo hiciesen por huir de unos insolentes raptores. Como unas cosas así no han sucedido desde dos mil años acá, hacen creer al mayor número que son cuentos forjados a placer.
Arabela se paró al oír este discurso y no tuvo por conveniente decir lo que pensaba, pero su silencio, su ademán y sus ojos manifestaron lo que pasaba en su alma. Creyó la condesa haberse propasado algo para una conversación primera y se aprovechó diestramente de la ocasión de promover otra, y así que se dejó aparte el heroísmo, lució Arabela su talento y acreditó, con lo sólido de sus reflexiones, el juicio y discernimiento de que estaba dotada.
148 La posibilidad de que esta condesa cuyo nombre se evita pueda estar inspirada en un personaje real lo planteó Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (Dalziel 412), aristócrata y escritora británica (1689–1762), autora de una correspondencia muy interesante. Precisamente en una carta dirigida a su hija es donde aparece esta sugerencia no concretada.
149 ‘cuyo modo de pensar no se le desvaneció’.
150 ‘pegó un brinco’; repullo es un «movimiento violento del cuerpo» (Aut).
Chapter V
In which is introduced a very singular character.
Miss Glanville, whose envy and dislike of her lovely cousin were heightened by her suspicions that she disputed with her the possession of Sir George’s heart, she having been long in reality a great admirer of that gay gentleman, was extremely delighted with the ridicule her absurd behaviour had drawn upon her at Bath, which she found by enquiry was through Mr. Tinsel’s representation grown almost general.
In order therefore to be at liberty to go to the public places uneclipsed* by the superior beauty of Arabella, she acquainted her father and brother with part of what she had heard, which determined them to prevent that young lady’s appearance in public while they stayed at Bath; this being no difficult matter to bring about, since Arabella only went to the rooms or parade in compliance with the invitation of her cousins.
[229] Miss Glanville, being by these means rid of a rival too powerful even to contend with, went with more than usual gaiety to the assembly, where the extravagancies of Arabella afforded a perpetual fund* for diversion. Her more than passive behaviour upon this occasion, banishing all restraint among those she conversed with, the jest circulated very freely at Arabella’s expense. Nor did Miss Glanville fail to give new poignancy to their sarcasms, by artfully disclosing the bent of her cousin’s studies, and enumerating the many absurdities they had made her guilty of.
Arabella’s uncommon beauty had gained her so many enemies among the ladies that composed this assembly that they seemed to contend with each other who should ridicule her most. The celebrated countess of …, being then at Bath, approached a circle of these fair defamers, and listening a few moments to the contemptuous jests they threw out against the absent beauty, declared herself in her favour, which in a moment, such was the force of her universally acknowledged merit, and the deference always paid to her opinion, silenced every pretty impertinent around her.
This lady, who among her own sex had no superior in wit, elegance, and ease, was inferior to very few of the other in sense, learning, and judgment. Her skill in poetry, painting, and music, though incontestably great, was numbered among the least of her accomplishments. Her candour, her sweetness, her modesty and benevolence, while they secured her from the darts of envy, rendered her [230] superior to praise, and made the one as unnecessary as the other ineffectual.
She had been a witness of the surprise Arabella’s extraordinary appearance had occasioned, and struck with that as well as the uncommon charms of her person, had pressed near her with several others of the company, when she was discoursing in the manner we have related.p. 295
A person of the countess’s nice discernment could not fail of observing the wit and spirit, which though obscured, was not absolutely hid under the absurdity of her notions. And this discovery adding esteem to the compassion she felt for the fair visionary, she resolved to rescue her from the ill-natured raillery of her sex; praising therefore her understanding and the beauty of her person, with a sweetness and generosity peculiar to herself, she accounted in the most delicate manner imaginable for the singularity of her notions, from her studies, her retirement, her ignorance of the world and her lively imagination. And to abate the keenness of their sarcasms, she acknowledged that she herself had, when very young, been deep read in romances; and but for an early acquaintance with the world, and being directed to other studies, was likely to have been as much a heroine as Lady Bella.
Miss Glanville, though she was secretly vexed at this defence of her cousin, was however under a necessity of seeming obliged to the countess for it. And that lady expressing a desire to be acquainted with Lady Bella, Miss Glanville [231] respectfully offered to attend her cousin to her lodgings, which the countess as respectfully declined, saying, as Lady Bella was a stranger, she would make her the first visit.
Miss Glanville at her return gave her brother an account of what had happened at the assembly, and filled him with an inconceivable joy at the countess’s intention. He had always been a zealous admirer of that lady’s character, and flattered himself that the conversation of so admirable a woman would be of the utmost use to Arabella.
That very night he mentioned her to his beloved cousin; and after enumerating all her fine qualities, declared that she had already conceived a friendship for her, and was solicitous of her acquaintance.
“I think myself extremely fortunate,” replied Arabella, “in that I have (though questionless undeservedly) acquired the amity of this lovely person. And I beg you,” pursued she to Miss Glanville, “to tell her that I long with impatience to embrace her, and to give her that share in my heart which her transcendent merit deserves.”
Miss Glanville only bowed her head in answer to this request, giving her brother at the same time a significant leer, who, though used to Arabella’s particularities, could not help being a little confounded at the heroic speech she had made.p. 296
Chapter VI
Containing something which at first sight may possibly puzzle the reader.
The countess was as good as her word, and two days after sent a card to Arabella, importing her design to wait on her that afternoon.
Our heroine expected her with great impatience, and the moment she entered the room, flew towards her with a graceful eagerness, and straining her in her arms, embraced her with all the fervour of a long absent friend.
Sir Charles and Mr. Glanville were equally embarrassed at the familiarity of this address; but observing that the countess seemed not to be surprised at it, but rather to receive it with pleasure, they were soon composed.
“You cannot imagine, lovely stranger,” said Arabella to the countess as soon as they were seated, “with what impatience I have longed to behold you, since the knowledge I have received of your rare qualities and the friendship you have been pleased to honour me with—And I may truly protest to you that such is my admiration of your virtues that I would have gone to the farthest part of the world to render you that which you with so much generosity have condescended to bestow upon me.”
Sir Charles stared at this extraordinary speech, and not being able to comprehend a word of it, was concerned to think how the lady to whom it was addressed would understand it.
[233] Mr. Glanville looked down, and bit his nails in extreme confusion; but the countess, who had not forgot the language of romance, returned the compliment in a strain as heroic as hers.
“The favour I have received from Fortune,” said she, “in bringing me to the happiness of your acquaintance, charming Arabella, is so great that I may rationally expect some terrible misfortune will befall me, seeing that in this life our pleasures are so constantly succeeded by pains that we hardly ever enjoy the one without suffering the other soon after.”
Arabella was quite transported to hear the countess express herself in language so conformable to her own; but Mr. Glanville was greatly confounded, and began to suspect she was diverting herself with his cousin’s singularities. And Sir Charles was within a little of thinking her as much out of the way as his niece.
“Misfortunes, madam,” said Arabella, “are too often the lot of excellent persons like yourself. The sublimest among mortals both for beauty and virtue have experienced the frowns of Fate. The sufferings of the divine Statira, or Cassandra, for she bore both names, the persecutions of the incomparable Cleopatra, the distresses of the beautiful Candace, and the afflictions of the fair and generous Mandana, are proofs that the most illustrious persons in the world have felt the rage of calamity.”p. 297
“It must be confessed,” said the countess, “that all those fair princesses you have named were for a while extremely unfortunate. Yet in the catalogue of these lovely and afflicted persons [234] you have forgot one who might with justice dispute the priority of sufferings with them all—I mean the beautiful Elisa, princess of Parthia.”
“Pardon me, madam,” replied Arabella. “I cannot be of your opinion. The princess of Parthia may indeed justly be ranked among the number of unfortunate persons, but she can by no means dispute the melancholy precedence with the divine Cleopatra—For in fine, madam, what evils did the princess of Parthia suffer which the fair Cleopatra did not likewise endure, and some of them haply in a greater degree? If Elisa, by the tyrannical authority of the king her father, saw herself upon the point of becoming the wife of a prince she detested, was not the beautiful daughter of Antony, by the more unjustifiable tyranny of Augustus likely to be forced into the arms of Tyberius, a proud and cruel prince, who was odious to the whole world as well as to her? If Elisa was for some time in the power of pirates, was not Cleopatra captive to an inhuman king who presented his sword to the fair breast of that divine princess, worthy the adoration of the whole earth? And, in fine, if Elisa had the grief to see her dear Artaban imprisoned by the order of Augustus, Cleopatra beheld with mortal agonies her beloved Coriolanus enclosed amidst the guards of that enraged prince, and doomed to a cruel death.”
“It is certain, madam,” replied the countess, “that the misfortunes of both these princesses were very great, though as you have shown me with some inequality. And when one reflects upon the dangerous adventures to which persons [235] of their quality were exposed in those times, one cannot help rejoicing that we live in an age in which the customs, manners, habits and inclinations differ so widely from theirs that it is impossible such adventures should ever happen.
“Such is the strange alteration of things that some people I dare say at present cannot be persuaded to believe there ever were princesses wandering through the world by land and sea in mean disguises, carried away violently out of their father’s dominions by insolent lovers—Some discovered sleeping in forests, other shipwrecked on desolate islands, confined in castles, bound in chariots, and even struggling amidst the tempestuous waves of the sea, into which they had cast themselves to avoid the brutal force of their ravishers. Not one of these things having happened within the compass of several thousand years, people unlearned in antiquity would be apt to deem them idle tales, so improbable do they appear at present.”
Arabella, though greatly surprised at this discourse, did not think proper to express her thoughts of it. She was unwilling to appear absolutely ignorant of the present customs of the world, before a lady whose good opinion she was ardently desirous of improving. Her prepossessions in favour of the countess made her receive the new lights* she held out to her with respect, though not without doubt and irresolution. Her blushes, her silence, and downcast eyes gave the countess to understand part of her thoughts, who for fear of alarming her too much for that time, dropped the [236] subject, and turning the conversation on others more general, gave Arabella an opportunity of mingling in it with that wit and vivacity which was natural to her when romances were out of the question.