CHAPTER LVIII.

Peregrine, almost distracted with his Disappointment, conjures the

fair Fleming to permit his Visits at Brussels--She withdraws from his

Pursuit.

Things being thus adjusted, and all the company dressed, they went to

breakfast about five in the morning; and in less than an hour after were

seated in the diligence, where a profound silence prevailed. Peregrine,

who used to be the life of the society, was extremely pensive and

melancholy on account of his mishap, the Israelite and his dulcinea

dejected in consequence of their disgrace, the poet absorbed in lofty

meditation, the painter in schemes of revenge; while Jolter, rocked by

the motion of the carriage, made himself amends for the want of rest he

had sustained; and the mendicant, with his fair charge, were infected

by the cloudy aspect of our youth, in whose disappointment each of

them, for different reasons, bore no inconsiderable share. This general

languor and recess from all bodily exercise disposed them all to receive

the gentle yoke of slumber; and in half-an-hour after they had embarked,

there was not one of them awake, except our hero and his mistress,

unless the Capuchin was pleased to counterfeit sleep, in order to

indulge our young gentleman with an opportunity of enjoying some private

conversation with his beauteous ward.

Peregrine did not neglect the occasion; but, on the contrary, seized

the first minute, and, in gentle murmurs, lamented his hard hap in

being thus the sport of fortune. He assured her, and that with great

sincerity, that all the cross accidents of his life had not cost him one

half of the vexation and keenness of chagrin which he had suffered last

night; and that now he was on the brink of parting from her, he should

be overwhelmed with the blackest despair, if she would not extend her

compassion so far as to give him an opportunity of sighing at her feet

in Brussels, during the few days his affairs would permit him to spend

in that city. This young lady, with an air of mortification, expressed

her sorrow for being the innocent cause of his anxiety; said she hoped

last night's adventure would be a salutary warning to both their souls;

for she was persuaded, that her virtue was protected by the intervention

of Heaven; that whatever impression it might have made upon him, she was

enabled by it to adhere to that duty from which her passion had begun to

swerve; and, beseeching him to forget her for his own peace, gave him to

understand, that neither the plan she had laid down for her own conduct,

nor the dictates of her honour, would allow her to receive his visits,

or carry on any other correspondence with him, while she was restricted

by the articles of her marriage-vow.

This explanation produced such a violent effect upon her admirer, that

he was for some minutes deprived of the faculty of speech; which he no

sooner recovered, than he gave vent to the most unbridled transports of

passion. He taxed her with barbarity and indifference; told her, that

she had robbed him of his reason and internal peace; that he would

follow her to the ends of the earth, and cease to live sooner than cease

to love her; that he would sacrifice the innocent fool who had been the

occasion of all this disquiet, and murder every man whom he considered

as an obstruction to his views. In a word, his passions, which had

continued so long in a state of the highest fermentation, together with

the want of that repose which calms and quiets the perturbation of the

spirits, had wrought him up to a pitch of real distraction. While he

uttered these delirious expressions, the tears ran down his cheeks; and

he underwent such agitation that the tender heart of the fair Fleming

was affected with his condition: and, while her own face was bedewed

with the streams of sympathy, she begged him, for Heaven's sake, to be

composed; and promised, for his satisfaction, to abate somewhat of the

rigour of her purpose. Consoled by this kind declaration, he recollected

himself; and, taking out his pencil, gave her his address, when she had

assured him, that he should hear from her in four-and-twenty hours, at

farthest, after their separation.

Thus soothed, he regained the empire of himself, and, by degrees,

recovered his serenity. But this was not the case with his Amanda, who,

from this sample of his disposition, dreaded the impetuosity of his

youth, and was effectually deterred from entering into any engagements

that might subject her peace and reputation to the rash effects of

such a violent spirit. Though she was captivated by his person and

accomplishments, she had reflection enough to foresee, that the longer

she countenanced his passion, her own heart would be more and more

irretrievably engaged, and the quiet of her life the more exposed to

continual interruption. She therefore profited by these considerations,

and a sense of religious honour, which helped her to withstand the

suggestions of inclination; and resolved to amuse her lover with

false hopes, until she should have it in her power to relinquish his

conversation, without running any risk of suffering by the inconsiderate

sallies of his love. It was with this view that she desired he would not

insist upon attending her to her mother's house, when they arrived at

Brussels; and he, cajoled by her artifice, took a formal leave of her,

together with the other strangers, fixing his habitation at the inn to

which he and his fellow-travellers had been directed, in the impatient

expectation of receiving a kind summons from her within the limited

time.

Meanwhile, in order to divert his imagination, he went to see

the stadthouse, park, and arsenal, took a superficial view of the

booksellers' cabinet of curiosities, and spent the evening at the

Italian opera, which was at that time exhibited for the entertainment

of Prince Charles of Lorraine, then governor of the Low Countries. In

short, the stated period was almost lapsed when Peregrine received a

letter to this purport:--

“Sir,--If you knew what violence I do my own heart, in

declaring, that I have withdrawn myself for ever from your

addresses, you would surely applaud the sacrifice I make to

virtue, and strive to imitate this example of self-denial.

Yes, sir, Heaven hath lent me grace to struggle with my guilty

passion, and henceforth to avoid the dangerous sight of him,

who inspired it. I therefore conjure you, by the regard you

ought to have to the eternal welfare of us both, as well as by

the esteem and affection you profess, to war with your unruly

inclination, and desist from all attempts of frustrating the

laudable resolution I have made. Seek not to invade the peace

of one who loves you, to disturb the quiet of a family that

never did you wrong, and to alienate the thoughts of a weak

woman from a deserving man, who, by the most sacred claim,

ought to have the full possession of her heart.”

This billet, without either date or subscription, banished all remains

of discretion from the mind of our hero, who ran instantly to the

landlord in all the ecstasy of madness, and demanded to see the

messenger who brought the letter on pain of putting his whole family to

the sword. The innkeeper, terrified by his looks and menaces, fell upon

his knees, protesting in the face of Heaven that he was utterly ignorant

and innocent of anything that could give him offence, and that the

billet was brought by a person whom he did not know, and who retired

immediately, saying it required no answer. He then gave utterance to his

fury in a thousand imprecations and invectives against the writer,

whom he dishonoured with the appellations of a coquette, a jilt, an

adventurer, who, by means of a pimping priest, had defrauded him of his

money. He denounced vengeance against the mendicant, whom he swore he

would destroy if ever he should set eyes on him again.

The painter unluckily appearing during this paroxysm of rage, he seized

him by the throat, saying he was ruined by his accursed folly; and in

all likelihood poor Pallet would have been strangled had not Jolter

interposed in his behalf, beseeching his pupil to have mercy upon the

sufferer, and, with infinite anxiety, desiring to know the cause of

this violent assault. He received no answer but a string of incoherent

curses. When the painter, with unspeakable astonishment, took God to

witness that he had done nothing to disoblige him, the governor began to

think, in sad earnest, that Peregrine's vivacity had at length risen to

the transports of actual madness, and was himself almost distracted with

this supposition. That he might the better judge what remedy ought to

be applied, he used his whole influence, and practised all his eloquence

upon the youth, in order to learn the immediate cause of his delirium.

He employed the most pathetic entreaties, and even shed tears in the

course of his supplication; so that Pickle, the first violence of the

hurricane being blown over, was ashamed of his own imprudence, and

retired to his chamber in order to recollect his dissipated thoughts;

there he shut himself up, and for the second time perusing the fatal

epistle, began to waver in his opinion of the author's character and

intention. He sometimes considered her as one of those nymphs, who,

under the mask of innocence and simplicity, practise upon the hearts and

purses of unwary and inexperienced youths: this was the suggestion of

his wrath inflamed by disappointment; but when he reflected upon the

circumstances of her behaviour, and recalled her particular charms to

his imagination, the severity of his censure gave way and his heart

declared in favour of her sincerity.

Yet even this consideration aggravated the sense of his loss, and he was

in danger of relapsing into his former distraction, when his passion was

a little becalmed by the hope of seeing her again, either by accident

or in the course of a diligent and minute inquiry, which he forthwith

resolved to set on foot. He had reason to believe that her own heart

would espouse his cause in spite of her virtue's determination; and did

not despair of meeting with the Capuchin, whose good offices he knew he

could at any time command. Comforted with these reflections, the tempest

of his soul subsided. In less than two hours he joined his company with

an air of composure, and asked the painter's forgiveness for the freedom

he had taken, the cause of which he promised hereafter to explain.

Pallet was glad of being reconciled on any terms to one whose

countenance supported him in equilibrio with his antagonist the doctor;

and Mr. Jolter was rejoiced beyond measure at his pupil's recovery.

The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle · 第 58 / 108 章