The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 109: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

again: I could know not a greater misery than that of being separated from you for ever. Now, then, adored lady—tell me whether you think I love you f” “Yes—I believe that you experience an interest in me, Eugene,” said the unknown, interrapting herself at every word to bestow upon him the tenderest kisses; “and I at once promise you that we shall meet again.” “Tianks—ten thousand thanks, sweet lady, for this assurance,” cried the Ea, in unfeigned rapture. “Bat you will not allow too long an interval to elapse——”" “ No,” was the soft response: “for I myself shall be only too happy to renew the pleasures of this M4 % “Then you ‘ove me, dear lady—you love me?’’ exclaimed Montgomery, in a tone evincing the anxiety with which he awaited her answer. “Yes—I love you, Eugene,” said the mysterious aoknown; “ for I now find that you are as amiable and agreeable as you are grandiy handsome. And at some future meeting,” she continued, in a atill lower and softer tone, as if her entire being were meltmg under the influence of her emotions,—“ at some future meeting it may be that I shali throw aside the mask of nystery and tell you who I am.” “ Beloved friend,” said the nobleman, “I care not who you may be, inasmuch as I adore you for ourself only—and whether you are a Duchess or 2 humble gentlewoman, my sentiments must ever re- main the same. But there does exist a reason where- fore I should rejoice in the dissolution of the mystery which at present surrounds you—and that is because I should then behold with my eyes that countenance which I can only now contemplate with my imagi- nation. On this account shall I hail with-an inde- scribable ecstacy the moment when you may choose to place a full and complete confidence in me.” “ And the arrival of that moment depends alto- gether upon yourself, Eugene,” said the lady, one of her fair hands playing caressingly with his counte- nance. “ Upon myself!” he repeated. “Oh! explain the mieaning of your words, my well-beloved—and teach me how I can merit your confidence.” “Listen to me, Eugene—and I will be candid with you,” said the lady, in a tone of tender gravity. “The ardonr of my temperament induces me to seek the pleasures of love in the manner which brought Lord Florimel to my arms, and which has this night thrown you and me together. [ am un- married—immeneely rich—and entirely my own mistress. But you will ask wherefore I have not sought in marriage the legitimate gratification of my passions? In explanation I must inform you that I have ever held in abhorrence the idea of being chained to one individual; and moreover, knowing the frailty of my nature, I should have shrunk from the bare thought of becoming the wife of an honour- able and perhaps kind-hearted and confiding man, to whom it would have been impossible for me to re- main constant. Under all these circamstances I preferred the adoption of that luxurious, free, and unshackled existence which was led by the celebrated Manon Lescaut of France—with this difference, however, that whereas she threw neither veil nor gloss over her amours, I have hitherto concealed mine beneath that impenetrable mystery which hides may name, rank, and even personal identity at this (~~ moment from yourselfi Weill, for sone years have I led this life: and yet my lovers have been comparatively few—and those all selected accordiag to the passing whim of a moment. Now, however, I begin to grow weary of that existence; and I ey- perience the necessity of having some one whom | may love and by whom I shall be beloved. I do not think of marriage—no, not a whit more now than 1 did when first abandoning myself to this career ot what may be termed mysterious voluptuousness But I Jong to find a man who is handsome, elegant, and agreeable, and who possessas those honourable and delicate feelings that will render him ailent as the tomb in respect to the real position in which he stands towards me. For the world believes me pure and virtuous—my name is untarnished—and my reputation is spotless az tae mirror. To preserve this fair fame is naturally my object ;~and there- fore the man who secretly becomes my lover, mast be one deserving the confidence reposedin him. For my honour—and in that word are also comprised my happiness and my very life—would be in his ! keeping; and before I can bring my mind to put | so immense a trust in any human being, I must re- | ceive ample proofs of his worthiness. And here | will obeerve that so extraordinary are the precau- tions which I adopt to conceal my frailty from every eye, that not even the domestics who attended the carriage which brought you hither just now, sus- pect for a moment the real purpose of your coming. I shall not reveal to you the tale which I invent on such occasions and which they implicitly believe: suffice it to say that it is so feasible as to be convinc- ing to them—and not a suspicion exists in their mind as to the purity of their mistress. Thus, my dear Eugene, you perceive that hitherto my amours have been conducted with a security and a safety which leave my reputation untainted ; and I shall not lightly nor hastily break down a single one of all the defences and precautions with which I have | surrounded my proceedings.” “ And if I were to convince you, beloved lady,” said Montgomery, who had listened in a strange kind of bewilderment to the singular avowals and expla- nations which were wafted to his ear ina voice of such melting softness,—“ if I were to convince you that I am worthy of your confidence—that I possesa those feelings of honour and delicacy which you de- | scribed ——~"" “In that case, my handsome Eugene,” exclaimed the unkhaown, in a voice that trembled with ecstatic emotions, while her whole frame vibrated beneath the same influence as she lay embraced in his arms, —*“in that case, my handsome Eugene, you would | only have to demand the revelation of my name | and rank and to desire that the light of day should | shine upon my countenance in your presence—and | a you would be gratified. For I may say with truth that I bear a proud name—and without vanity that | I am beautiful © © | “ But of what nature is the proof you require with regard to myself, dear lady t” asked Montgomery, his curiosity exoited to an almost intolerable pitch, “On that head, Eugene, I will give you some ex- planations,” was the reply. “ Know, then, that ths man who would seek my confidence must begin by giving me his own; and to learn my secrets he must entrust me with all thoae which he cherishes in his own breast. He must unbosom himeelf entirely te me, even to the revelation of any little acts or deeds in his life en which he may look back with regret or ElOOO® aa; GEER Gh. ee@e =e! of ce Gees 6 Gr ewe eB ease wwe 4 SS