The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 322: what you’re looking at

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

' 88 MYOUKRIBS OF THR COURT. again speaking in the voice of coldly calm eutho- rity. “Turning to your Majesty's left haad,” oon- tinued Marchmont, “I behold seated next to you a woman who lives apon her profligacy: and think you for a moment that the word of such a wreteh would have the slightest weight with a jury of my countrymen in a legitimate Court of Justice P Let her proclaim ber antecedents—let her charac- ter be anmasked as her face has ere now been un- veiled; and who would attach the remotest credence to a syllable flowing from such polluted lips ?”” “Tt is easy to use harsh epithets, my lord,” ex- claimed Mrs. Oxenden, her dark flashing ightning even more vivid than those which the eyes of Amy Sutton had shot forth: “ but abuse is not argument—and the testimony against you would be already overwhelming, were you not borne up by that very desperation which compels you to struggle unto the last!” “As for the villain who is seated next,” com? tinued the Duke, his eyes now settling upon the Barker, “the geol yawns for him; and it were an insalt to any jury in thie country to produce the testimony of such a man !” “If i¢ wasn’t for such men as you, my lord,” gtowled the Burker, “there would be fewer euch men as me! Your day is gone by—and it’s of no ase your making long epeeches and ebusing them as you was accustomed to use as your touls.” “As for Madame Angelique,” continued the Duke of Marchmont, who affected to turn away with loathing and diegust from the fierce regerde of the Burker,—“ as for Madame Angelique, her character befits her to teke her place in this com- pany with which your Majesty has chosen to sur- round yuurtelf. The whule career of that vile Frenchwoman bas been one of hardened iniquity ; and she has accumulated wealth by means the most degrading, the most disgusting, the moat abominable! Is it such testimony ae hers that ean all in o moment ruin the character of a noble- man bearing one of the proudest of British titles f Place that woman in a witnese-box, and any judge will indignantly command her to stand down J— Bo jury would listen to her!” “ And yet, bad as I may have been,” exclaimed Madame Angelique, “I have had the honour of yeckoning the Duke of Marchmoat among my most intimate friends {” “J will now sddress myself to yoar Majesty,” the Duke, who chose te have the ap- pearance of disdaining Madame Angelique. “I have spoken anre- servediy of the characters of your witnesses; and your Majesty's own good sense must tell you that I have spoken only too truly. I will not pretend to fathem the purposes which you may have in view : but whatever they may be, you must confess by this time that you have failed in carrying them out. That I have been gay—perhaps dissipated, -—¢hat I have been a man of pleasure—all this it is not worth my while to deny: but on the other hand these things assuredly concern not yourself. That Mrs. Oxenden has been my mistress—that Amy Satéon has received me in her arme—or that my visite have been paid to the house of Madame Angelique, are facts which I might readily have admitted without the necessity of this dark parade to bandy e word with | i 3LL and eolemn ordeal. bat wy purse bas been open to Mr. Stanbope—and that 1 bave beeu plundered as weil as personally maltreated by that villain who sits on your Majesty's left hand—are likewise facts. But that I have ever been their suborner or the instigator of their iniquities, is something too monstrous for belief. That I, eo proudly plaeed, shoald have condescended to such folly, is repugnant to your Majesty’s good sense, You see, Queen Indora, that I am addressing you with the respect that is due to your sex and to your rank. But let me warn your Majesty that it is no light deed on your pert to adopt all these proseedings againet an Englishman, bowever humble his rank might be: but when you reflect what I am—what my rank is—and that I am even exempt from the jurisdiction of the ordinary tribunals of my country—and if accused of misdeeds, oan be tried only by my peere—you cannot shut out from yourself the fact that you have taken a most serious step in subjecting me @ an ordeal which can end in naught. Therefore I demand that your Majesty at once restores me to that freedom which these myrmidons of your’s”—and he glaneed towards the Hindoos—“ have so grossly violated.” As the reader may su ppose, it cost the Dukeo © Marchmont no mean effort to maintain the de- meanour which with the language that thus flowed from his lips, and which was se completely at variance with that inward eoneciour- ness of a thousand crimes that he experienced: bat it was still by the very desperation of hie oir- cumstances that he was supported ; and he was ia a condition of the most awful suspense as to whad might be coming next. Queen Indura listened to him with all that calm attention which a righteous judge bestows upom sa captive who is sccused s there was nothing however in her look nor bearing to indicate that his words had produeed any effect apon her, either to make her think less than be- forehand of the amount of evidences brought to bear against biw, or to feel uneasy at the respon- sibility of the pusition in which she had placed her- self. The Duke of Marchmont anxiously and what i¢ might be jecture. “TI have heard you with sttention, prisoner,” said the Queen; “but it is unnecessary for me to offer the slightest comment upon your speceh. Follow me.” She descended from her throne—grace and dig- nity in her movemente—bub a deep solemnity in- guards did not Dow eceopany hit: the witneenes remained etationary in their seats upon the dais. The Queen entered first into the room to which we have so often alluded; and the moment the Duke of Marchmont reached the threshold he be- eaampe ets ee ae ee ee (COLL G OOO SS} (CO