CHAPTER XXIV.

Fresh calamities.

The next morning the sun rose with peculiar warmth for the season; so

that we agreed to breakfast together on the honeysuckle bank: where,

while we sate, my youngest daughter, at my request, joined her voice to

the concert on the trees about us. It was in this place my poor Olivia

first met her seducer, and every object served to recall her sadness.

But that melancholy, which is excited by objects of pleasure, or

inspired by sounds of harmony, sooths the heart instead of corroding

it. Her mother too, upon this occasion, felt a pleasing distress, and

wept, and loved her daughter as before. ‘Do, my pretty Olivia,’ cried

she, ‘let us have that little melancholy air your pappa was so fond of,

your sister Sophy has already obliged us. Do child, it will please your

old father.’ She complied in a manner so exquisitely pathetic as moved

me.

When lovely woman stoops to folly,

And finds too late that men betray,

What charm can sooth her melancholy,

What art can wash her guilt away?

The only art her guilt to cover,

To hide her shame from every eye,

To give repentance to her lover,

And wring his bosom—is to die.

As she was concluding the last stanza, to which an interruption in her

voice from sorrow gave peculiar softness, the appearance of Mr

Thornhill’s equipage at a distance alarmed us all, but particularly

encreased the uneasiness of my eldest daughter, who, desirous of

shunning her betrayer, returned to the house with her sister. In a few

minutes he was alighted from his chariot, and making up to the place

where I was still sitting, enquired after my health with his usual air

of familiarity. ‘Sir,’ replied I, ‘your present assurance only serves

to aggravate the baseness of your character; and there was a time when

I would have chastised your insolence, for presuming thus to appear

before me. But now you are safe; for age has cooled my passions, and my

calling restrains them.’

‘I vow, my dear sir,’ returned he, ‘I am amazed at all this; nor can I

understand what it means! I hope you don’t think your daughter’s late

excursion with me had any thing criminal in it.’

‘Go,’ cried I, ‘thou art a wretch, a poor pitiful wretch, and every way

a lyar; but your meanness secures you from my anger! Yet sir, I am

descended from a family that would not have borne this! And so, thou

vile thing, to gratify a momentary passion, thou hast made one poor

creature wretched for life, and polluted a family that had nothing but

honour for their portion.’

‘If she or you,’ returned he, ‘are resolved to be miserable, I cannot

help it. But you may still be happy; and whatever opinion you may have

formed of me, you shall ever find me ready to contribute to it. We can

marry her to another in a short time, and what is more, she may keep

her lover beside; for I protest I shall ever continue to have a true

regard for her.’

I found all my passions alarmed at this new degrading proposal; for

though the mind may often be calm under great injuries, little villainy

can at any time get within the soul, and sting it into rage.—‘Avoid my

sight, thou reptile,’ cried I, ‘nor continue to insult me with thy

presence. Were my brave son at home, he would not suffer this; but I am

old, and disabled, and every way undone.’

‘I find,’ cried he, ‘you are bent upon obliging me to talk in an

harsher manner than I intended. But as I have shewn you what may be

hoped from my friendship, it may not be improper to represent what may

be the consequences of my resentment. My attorney, to whom your late

bond has been transferred, threatens hard, nor do I know how to prevent

the course of justice, except by paying the money myself, which, as I

have been at some expences lately, previous to my intended marriage, is

not so easy to be done. And then my steward talks of driving for the

rent: it is certain he knows his duty; for I never trouble myself with

affairs of that nature. Yet still I could wish to serve you, and even

to have you and your daughter present at my marriage, which is shortly

to be solemnized with Miss Wilmot; it is even the request of my

charming Arabella herself, whom I hope you will not refuse.’

‘Mr Thornhill,’ replied I, ‘hear me once for all: as to your marriage

with any but my daughter, that I never will consent to; and though your

friendship could raise me to a throne, or your resentment sink me to

the grave, yet would I despise both. Thou hast once wofully,

irreparably, deceived me. I reposed my heart upon thine honour, and

have found its baseness. Never more, therefore, expect friendship from

me. Go, and possess what fortune has given thee, beauty, riches,

health, and pleasure. Go, and leave me to want, infamy, disease, and

sorrow. Yet humbled as I am, shall my heart still vindicate its

dignity, and though thou hast my forgiveness, thou shalt ever have my

contempt.’

‘If so,’ returned he, ‘depend upon it you shall feel the effects of

this insolence, and we shall shortly see which is the fittest object of

scorn, you or me.’—Upon which he departed abruptly.

My wife and son, who were present at this interview, seemed terrified

with the apprehension. My daughters also, finding that he was gone,

came out to be informed of the result of our conference, which, when

known, alarmed them not less than the rest. But as to myself, I

disregarded the utmost stretch of his malevolence: he had already

struck the blow, and now I stood prepared to repel every new effort.

Like one of those instruments used in the art of war, which, however

thrown, still presents a point to receive the enemy.

We soon, however, found that he had not threatened in vain; for the

very next morning his steward came to demand my annual rent, which, by

the train of accidents already related, I was unable to pay. The

consequence of my incapacity was his driving my cattle that evening,

and their being appraised and sold the next day for less than half

their value. My wife and children now therefore entreated me to comply

upon any terms, rather than incur certain destruction. They even begged

of me to admit his visits once more, and used all their little

eloquence to paint the calamities I was going to endure. The terrors of

a prison, in so rigorous a season as the present, with the danger, that

threatened my health from the late accident that happened by the fire.

But I continued inflexible.

‘Why, my treasures,’ cried I, ‘why will you thus attempt to persuade me

to the thing that is not right! My duty has taught me to forgive him;

but my conscience will not permit me to approve. Would you have me

applaud to the world what my heart must internally condemn? Would you

have me tamely sit down and flatter our infamous betrayer; and to avoid

a prison continually suffer the more galling bonds of mental

confinement! No, never. If we are to be taken from this abode, only let

us hold to the right, and wherever we are thrown, we can still retire

to a charming apartment, when we can look round our own hearts with

intrepidity and with pleasure!’

In this manner we spent that evening. Early the next morning, as the

snow had fallen in great abundance in the night, my son was employed in

clearing it away, and opening a passage before the door. He had not

been thus engaged long, when he came running in, with looks all pale,

to tell us that two strangers, whom he knew to be officers of justice,

were making towards the house.

Just as he spoke they came in, and approaching the bed where I lay,

after previously informing me of their employment and business, made me

their prisoner, bidding me prepare to go with them to the county gaol,

which was eleven miles off.

‘My friends,’ said I, ‘this is severe weather on which you have come to

take me to a prison; and it is particularly unfortunate at this time,

as one of my arms has lately been burnt in a terrible manner, and it

has thrown me into a slight fever, and I want cloaths to cover me, and

I am now too weak and old to walk far in such deep snow: but if it must

be so—’

I then turned to my wife and children, and directed them to get

together what few things were left us, and to prepare immediately for

leaving this place. I entreated them to be expeditious, and desired my

son to assist his elder sister, who, from a consciousness that she was

the cause of all our calamities, was fallen, and had lost anguish in

insensibility. I encouraged my wife, who, pale and trembling, clasped

our affrighted little ones in her arms, that clung to her bosom in

silence, dreading to look round at the strangers. In the mean time my

youngest daughter prepared for our departure, and as she received

several hints to use dispatch, in about an hour we were ready to

depart.

The Vicar of Wakefield · 第 24 / 32 章