The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 241: what you’re looking at

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me, ] should go mad—or else I should end my days in suicide? I could not survive the loses of your love; it is the sir which [ breathe—it seems to have ab- anorbed all other ties that bound me to existence exe I knew the happinéss of thus loving and being be- leved. And I will teli you what a strange—what a dreadful dream I had the other night :—indeed, it was on the very night following the day on which I | peocared the portrait that I call yours. On retiring to my chamber, and after Pauline was asleep, I sate up for an hour contemplating that picture, and com- paring all its lmeaments with your own: for your image is so faithfully and accurately impressed upon | my mind, that I see you before me, even when we | are separated, as plainly as I behold you now. Well, | having studied that portrait until its lips appeared to smile at me and its eyes to look love to mine, I re- tired to rest. Sleep came upon me; and then me- thought that I was seated with you in a delicious ar- _ bour. It was Spring-time: the blossoms fed the air | with their fragrance—the heavens were of cloudless | bine and stainiessly sunny—and the birds carolled in | their verdant retreats. We sate gazing upon each , other in silence — our looks speaking more elo- |e" the dream wae elysian my soul ws Oh! thus the dream was elysian: my soul was bathed in rth ineffable. But suddenly a gorgeous train of nobles and brilliantly-dressed :adies appeared in sight; and starting from your seat—tearing yourself from my arms—you burried towards the procession, as ti to command that it should pess on withont re- | Sepiing 70 Bat a name was spaken by some voice—and that name was the Prince of Walea. The uit came over me—and J fainted. When I returned to consciousness, I fancied that utter darkness had closed in around ma Rising from the cold ground to which I had fallen, I groped my way amidst densely interwoven shrubs and | thickly growing trees, the dew from the foliage moistening all my garments and damping my hair which I believed tc be streaming wildly and dis | hevelled over my shoulders. Suddenly I saw a light in the distance: I advanced towards it ;—every in- | stant it grew stronger and stronger—until a glorious nurries us on in our dreams, and which indeed some- | tines prompts us in our actions when we are awake, I entered the sacred edifice. With trembling and an appalling presentiment of evil lying like a weight of lead upon my heart, I approached the altar, around which I beheld aseambijed that gorgeous train of nobles and ladies whom I had seen in the earlier portion of my vision. But one form stood out | % proud contrast trom all the rest; and that form was thine, my George. But scarcely had my eyes thus settied upon you, when the solemn verce of the clergyman bestowed the nuptial blessing upon your- sel and a lady whose hand you helu in your own, A rending shriek escaped my lips—and I awoke. Nor was that shriek a part of the dream—but a real ex- pression of indescribable anguish; for Pauline had been awakened by it—and, seriousiy alarined, she in- quired what was the matter. I soothed her appre- hensions on my account by telling her that 1 iad exper:enced 2 horrible dream, but the nature of which [ did not unfold to her. For the remainder of the wight my feverish brow pressed a sleepless pillow; and rever—never was the dawn of inorning more welooae. Oh! this dream has haunted me ofteutiues = y a - a = @ ®& = + —— since—yes, a hundred times during the fow days : which Lave elapsed since it occurred.” “But you pat no faith in idle visions, my be- | loved f” said the Prince, more profoundly troubled | than before at the strange narrative which had come from Octavia’s lips, and which he would have inter- ‘ rupted more than once during the recital, had he not been enchained by the species of fearful and pro- , phetic interest wherewith it was invested. “Such g | dream is easily accounted for, dearest,” he continued. “you had been gasing on a portrait in which you . traced a resemblance to me—-it was the predominant . idea in your mind when sleep fell upon your eyes— and your imagination wreathed a host of wild and romantic fancies into the vivid and strongl y-coloured texture of a vision.” “Oh! I am well aware that this is the true mode to account for it,” exclaimed Octavia: “ but it was not the less painful at the time—and the frequent trains of melancholy thought which its remem- - brance engenders, distress me vccasionally more than J coald possibly make you understand.” “Of what nature are those thoughts, my be- ’ loved ?” inquired the Prince, determined to probe the young lady’s mind to the very bottom, since the discourse had turned on this subject; and moreover, he felt that he was already standing on the verge ofan abyss. “ You will only chide me if I give you tbe expla. | nation you desire, dear George,” seid Octavia, caste ting a timid look upon her lover. “ No—on the contrary, I wish you to’be frank | and explicit, my angel,” returned the Prince: “ fur it is my duty and my desire to tranquillise all your misgivings,” he added insidiously. “ Miugivings! Oh! I have none when with you,” : cried the lovely creature, pressing her lips upon his cheek. “But you asked me for an explana- tion of those thoughts which my dream has left behind, and which steal upon me at times in spite of every effort which I make to throw them off. For, when alone, or if at al! dispirited, I find my- self giving way to sad imaginings, akin to that vi- sion, and which canse me infinite torture. I re- flect that if you were indeed other than you have represented yourself—if the portrait should prove to be so perfect a resemblance of you, because you are its real original—and if I have surrendered up my heart, and what is more—my honour—to the heir-apparent to the throne of these realms,—Oh ! * then madness or suicide would be the result. For | heart ¢ - innocence is a balm even to the b bat that anodyne would not be mine! On occa- sions, my thoughts are continaed in another strain ; —and instead of fureseeing madness or suicide as - the crowning catastrophe, it appears to me as if all my love would turn to the bitterest hate, and that . 1 would even throw myself at the feet of the King and demand justice against his son, my seducer { Bat, when Isucceed in arousing my mind from these most painful reveries, 1am so ashamed—so vexed—so angry at having given way to specule- tuons so wild and tv suspicions so injurious, my be- loved George, to yoo, that,l am thrown into a per- fect fever of excitement ; ; and the s ood circulates like lightning in my veins—my eara tingle—my tongue grows parched—my temples throb—my ~ eye-balis burn! And now you will pardon me, ; my George, fur having thus frankly unbosomed my-elf to you;—aud you will cease to be asto-~ | COMIC SOOkKS —_? — ma =” a o-=> Ge GP _— co