SONG IN HONOUR OF THE FAIR SEX.—HYPOCRISY OF THE MAGICIAN.—THE TRIUMPH
OF IMOGEN.—DESPAIR AND CONSOLATION OF RODERIC.
So much was Roderic discouraged by the apparent spirit and firmness of
these declarations, that at the conclusion of them he abruptly quitted
his captive, and released her for a moment from his unjust
persecutions. His pride however was too strongly piqued, and his
passions too much alarmed to permit her a real respite. “Where ever,”
cried he, as he trod with hasty and irregular steps the level
green,—“where ever were found such simplicity, and so much strength of
judgment, and gaiety of wit in union? Is it possible for the extreme of
simplicity and the perfection of intellect to meet together? These
surely are paradoxes, that not all the goblins of the abyss can solve,
and which, had they been related instead of seen, must have appeared to
constitute an absurd and impossible fiction.
“Well then it is in vain to attack the inexorable fair one with
allurements that address themselves only to the understanding. She is
too well fortified with the prejudices of education, and the principles
of an imaginary virtue, to be reduced by an assault like this. The
pride of her virtue is alarmed, the little train of her sophistries are
awakened, and with that artless rhetoric, of the value of which she is
doubtless sensible, she set[s] all her enemies at defiance. My future
enticements shall therefore address themselves to her senses. Thus
approaching her, it is impossible that success should not follow my
undertaking. Even the most wary, circumspect, and suspicious, might
thus be overcome. But she is innocence itself. She apprehends no
danger, she suspects no ambuscade. Young and unexperienced, and the
little experience she has attained, derived only from scenes of
pastoral simplicity, she knows not the meaning of insincerity and
treachery; she dreads not the serpent that lurks beneath the flower.”
Having determined the plan of his machinations, and given the necessary
orders, he privately signified to the attendants, that they should
propose to their lovely charge to direct her course once again to the
mansion; and as she perceived that Roderic still continued upon a
distant part of the lawn; and as she saw no means of present escape
from her confinement, she consented to do as they desired.
They now entered the mansion, and passing through several splendid
apartments, at length reached a large and magnificent saloon. It was
hung with tapestry, upon which were represented the figures of Sappho
sweeping the lyre; of the Spartan mother bending over the body, and
counting the wounds of her son; of Penelope in the midst of her
maidens, carefully unravelling the funeral web of her husband; of
Lucretia inflicting upon herself a glorious and voluntary death; and of
Arria teaching her husband in what manner a Roman should expire. These
stories had been miraculously communicated to Roderic, and were now
explained by the attendants to the wondering Imogen. At the same time a
band of music, that was placed at the lower end of the hall, struck at
once their various instruments, and, without any previous preparation,
began the lofty chorus. At the upper end of the saloon stood a throne
of ivory, hung round with trappings of gold, and placed upon a floor of
marble, of which a numerous flight of steps, also of marble, composed
the ascent. The hangings were of crimson velvet, and the canopy of the
richest purple. With the musicians were intermingled a number of
supernatural beings under the command of Roderic. Their voices were
melodious beyond all example of human power; they were by turns lofty
and majestic, and by turns tender and melting; and the strain was
divine.
“Such are the honours of the tender sex; and who can speak their
praise? The lily is not so fair, the rose is not so attractive, the
violet and the jessamine have not so elegant a simplicity. By their
charms, by their eloquence, and by their merit, they have assumed an
empire over the bolder sex. How auspicious is the empire! They hold
them in silken chains. They govern, not by harsh decrees, and rigorous
penalties; but by smiles and soft compliances, and winning,
irresistible persuasion. The rewards they bestow are sweet, and
ravishing, and indescribable.
“What were man without the fair? A wild beast of the forest; a rough
and untamed savage; a hungry lion bursting from his den. Without them,
they are gloomy, morose, unfeeling, and unsociable. To them they owe
every civilization, and every improvement. Did Amphion, from the rude
and shapeless stones, raise by his power a regular edifice, houses,
palaces, and cities? Did Orpheus by his lay humanize the rugged beasts
and teach the forests to listen? No, these are wild, unmeaning fables.
It was woman, charming woman, that led unpolished man forth from the
forests and the dens, and taught him to bend before thy shrine,
humanity! See how the face of nature changes! Where late the slough
mantled, or the serpent hissed among the briars and the reeds, all is
pasture and fertility. The cottages arise. The shepherds assume the
guise of gentleness and simplicity. They attire themselves with care,
they braid the garland, and they tune the pipe. Wherefore do they braid
the garland? Why are their manners soft and blandishing? And why do the
hills re-echo the notes of the slender reed? It is to win thy graces,
woman, charming woman!
“When nature formed a man, she formed a creature rational, and erect;
ten times more noble than the birds of the air, and the beasts of the
field. But when she formed a woman—it was then first, that she outdid
herself, and improved her own design. What are the broad and nervous
shoulders, what the compacted figure, and the vigorous step, when
contrasted with the well-turned limbs, the slender waist, the graceful
shoulders, and the soft and panting bosom? What are the manly front,
the stern, commanding eye, and the down-clad cheek, if we compare them
with the smooth, transparent complexion, the soft, faint blushes, and
the pretty, dimpled mouth? What are the strong, slow reason, the deep,
unfathomed science, and the grave and solemn wisdom, if they are
brought into competition with the sprightly sense, the penetrating wit,
and the inexhaustible invention? Does the stronger sex boast of its
learning, its deep researches, its sagacious discoveries? and have they
a coolness, a self-command, a never baffled prudence like that which
woman has exhibited? Do they pique themselves upon their courage, their
gallantry, and their adventure? Where shall we find among them a
patience, a mildness, a fortitude, a heroism, equal to that of the
fair?
“Virtue has dwelt beneath the sun. Themis has left her throne on the
right hand of Jove, and descended to the globe of earth. We have seen
examples of disinterested rectitude, of inviolable truth, of sublime
and heaven-born benevolence. They are written in the roll of fame; they
are handed down from age to age. They are the song of the poet, and the
favourite theme of the servants of the Gods. By whom were they
exhibited, or with whom did they originate? With woman, charming woman?
Well have justice and rectitude been represented under a female form,
for without the softer sex, all had been anarchy and confusion; every
man had preyed upon his neighbour; men, like beasts, had devoured each
other, and virtue fled affrighted to her native skies. This is the
source of all that is good and all that is excellent; of all that is
beautiful and all that is sublime: woman, charming woman!”
At this place the chorus ceased for a moment, and the attendants
observing, that Imogen was standing, intreated her to seat herself. She
was rendered weak and languid by the unexperienced anxieties and
terrors she had undergone, and she did not refuse their request. There
was no seat in the centre of the hall, or nearer than the sumptuous
throne that was placed at the upper end. Thither therefore they led
her. Imogen had been unused to the distinctions of rank and precedence.
Among the shepherds of the valley, every one, except the bards and the
priests, seated himself promiscuously; none sought to take the upper
hand of his neighbour; age was not distinguished by priority of place;
and youth thought not of ceding the _pas_. The shepherdess, as she
advanced towards the chair, paused for an instant, impressed with that
blaze of magnificence which is equally formed to strike every human
eye. She looked round her with an air of timidity and suspense, and
then going forward, ascended the steps and placed herself in the
throne. At this action, as at a signal, the song recommenced.
“Simplicity, child of nature, daughter of the plains, with thee alone
the queen of beauty dwells! What is it that adorns and enhances all the
wild and uncultivated scenes of nature? It is plainness and artless
simplicity. What is it that renders lovely and amiable her most
favourite productions in the animal creation: the tender lamb, the
cooing dove, and the vocal nightingale? It is simplicity; it is, that
all their gestures wear the guise, and their voice speaks the artless,
and unaffected language of nature. What is is that renders venerable
the characters of mankind; that ennobles the song of the bards; that
gives lustre and attraction to immortal, never-fading virtue? It is
simplicity, unaffected simplicity. Of the last and crowning work of
nature, woman, the form is grace; the visage is beauty; the eye
sparkles with intelligence, and smiles with soft and winning graces;
the tongue is clothed with persuasion and eloquence. But what are
these? A body without a soul, a combination of soft and harmonious
names without a meaning; a multitude of rich inestimable gifts, heaped
together in rude and inartificial confusion without the powers of
enchantment and attraction. What is it that can animate the mass, that
can give force and value to the whole, and reduce the shapeless chaos
into form? It is simplicity, unaffected simplicity. Without thee, child
of nature, daughter of the plains, beauty were no more. With thee she
dwells, and in thy mansion can she only dwell. Then be the palm
reserved for thee, and given to thee alone, simplicity, unaffected
simplicity!”
At these words, two supernatural figures appeared below the canopy of
the throne. They had the form of children; their figures appeared so
soft and waxen, that you would imagine they might be indented by the
smallest touch; upon their countenances sat the lively and unexpressive
smile, the sports, and the graces; and their shoulders were furnished
with wings of the softest plumage, variegated with all the colours of
the bow of heaven. In their hands they bore a coronet, at once rich
with jewels, and light and inconsiderable in its weight. The circle was
of gold, and studded with diamonds. With the diamonds were intermingled
every precious gem, the topaz, the jasper, the emerald, the chrysolite,
and the sapphire. The head was of Persian silk, and dyed with Tyrian
purple. This coronet they placed upon the head of Imogen, and then
descending to the footstool of the throne, bowed upon her feet. The
song immediately recommenced.
“Imogen is under the guardianship of simplicity, her favourite pupil.
Pollute not the ear of Imogen with the praises of beauty. What though
her eye be full of amiableness and eloquence; what though her cheeks
rival the peach, and her lips the coral; what though her bosom be soft
as wax and fairer than the face of honour; what though her tresses are
brighter than the shooting star? These are the bounties of nature;
these are the gifts of heaven, in which she claims no merit; these are
not the praises of Imogen. But this is her praise, that the graces
dwell upon her lips; that her words are attired with the garb of sense
and fancy; and that all her conduct is governed by the largest prudence
and the nicest discretion. Heard you the sound of merriment and
applause? They were the gay and unlaboured sallies of the wit of Imogen
that called them forth. Saw you the look of wonder and astonishment,
and the gaze of involuntary approbation and reverence? They were
excited by the modesty, the circumspection, and the virtue of Imogen.
And yet Imogen is artless, unaffected and innocent; her wit is
unconscious of itself, and her virtue the unstudied dictate of nature.
Imogen is under the guardianship of simplicity, her favourite pupil. Be
hers then the crown that simplicity alone can deserve. Simplicity
descends not in person to the surface of the earth; her abode is among
the Gods. But Imogen is her representative, her perfect resemblance.
Should simplicity descend upon the earth, she would not know herself;
she would be astonished to behold another divinity, equally beautiful,
equally excellent. The divinity is Imogen. Be hers then the crown, that
simplicity alone can deserve.”
This was a trying moment to the lovely and generous Imogen. Praise is
congenial to every human sense; the voice of praise is ever grateful to
the ear of virtue. The glory of the shepherd indeed lies within a
narrow compass. But let immortality be named, and the heart of man is
naturally attracted: it is impossible that the good and generous bosom
should not long for such a prize. Nor was this all. Imogen, though
loved and honoured by the borderers of Towey, had been little used to
studied commendation and laboured applause. Pastoral simplicity does
not deal in these; and though it seek to oblige, its endeavours are
unostentatious and silent. Beside, her reverence for song was radical
and deep. It had been instilled into her from her earliest infancy;
from earliest infancy she had considered poetry as the vehicle of
divine and eternal truth. How strange and tremendous an advantage must
he gain over the ear of simplicity, who can present his fascinations
under the garb of all that is sacred and all that is honourable?
The song had begun with celebrating a theme, that must for ever be
congenial to every female breast. The heart of the shepherdess had
instinctively vibrated to the praises of simplicity. Even the
commendations bestowed upon herself were not improper, or
indiscriminate; they had distinguished between the inanity of personal
charms, and the value of prudence, the beauty of innocence and the
merit of virtue. Even the honours she had received were attributed to
these, and not to the other. Were they not therefore such as virtue
would aspire to, and discretion accept?
Alas, Imogen, be not deceived with airy shadows! The reasoning may be
plausible, but it is no better than sophistry. Thou must be taught,
fair and unsuspecting virgin, under a beautiful outside to apprehend
deceit; and to guard against the thorn which closely environs the
flower. Thou must learn, loveliest of thy sex, to dread the poison of
flattery. It is more venemous than the adder, it is more destructive
than hebenon or madragora. It annihilates every respectable quality in
the very act of extolling it; it undermines all that adorns and
elevates the human character. Even now that thou listenest to it, and
drinkest in, without apprehension, its opiate sounds, thou art too near
to the sacrifice of those very excellencies it pretends to admire. For
the head of Imogen was made giddy by the applauses she heard; drunk
with admiration, she was no longer conscious of the things around her,
or of herself; she sunk vanquished and supine, and was supported by one
of the attendants.
At this moment Roderic came forth from an adjoining apartment, and
caught in his arms the vanquished beauty. In the mean time the
attendants, the musicians, and the supernatural beings disappeared, and
she was left alone with her betrayer.
Roderic surveyed his victim with an eye of avidity and triumph. His
eager curiosity wandered over her hoard of charms; and his brutal
passion was soothed with the contemplation of her disorder. Already in
imagination, he had possessed himself of a decisive advantage over so
apparent a weakness; and his breast was steeled against the emotions of
pity.
Imogen cast around her a languid and passive regard, and was in a
moment roused from her supineness by the sight of Roderic. Her subtle
adversary did not however allow her time for complete recollection,
before he discovered an apparent revolution in his sentiments and
language. He had heard, he said, the supernatural and celestial chorus,
and been caught in the extremest degree by the praises of innocence and
the triumph of virtue. He now felt the vanity and folly of those
pursuits in which he had been so deeply immersed, and was determined to
abjure the littleness of pride, and the emptiness of sensual
gratification. He did not now address his destined prize with the
commendations of beauty. He bestowed upon her with profusion the
epithets of discretion, integrity, and heroism; and poured into her ear
the insidious flattery, that was most soothing to her temper. Full, as
he pretended, of the infant purposes of virtue, he besought his captive
in the most importunate manner, to remain with him for a time, to
confirm his wavering rectitude, to instruct him in duty, and thus to
gain one human being to the standard of integrity, and to render so
extensive possessions subservient to the happiness of mankind. All this
he expressed with that ardour, which is congenial to the simplicity of
truth; and with that enthusiasm, which in all instances accompanies
recent conviction.
Imogen was totally uninured to the contemplation of hypocrisy, and
immediately yielded the most unreserved credit to these professions.
Her joy was extreme at the change in the dispositions of Roderic, and
her admiration of the irresistible charms of rectitude pious and
profound. The praises bestowed upon her seemed distinguishing and
sincere, and she drank them in with the most visible complacency. She
expressed however an ingenuous diffidence of her capacity for the task
of an instructor, and she intreated at any rate to be permitted to
withdraw for a short time to dry up the tears of her disconsolate
parents.
These difficulties were too obvious to create any embarrassment to so
consummate a deceiver. He described the danger of that vicious mistrust
of our powers, that is the enemy of all generous and heroic action. He
reminded his captive how recent were his purposes, and how many
unforeseen incidents might be crowded into so eventful a moment. There
were goblins, he said, ever ready to seduce the wanderer from his
wished return; and he had been too much their prey not to have every
thing to dread from the subtlety of their machinations. On the other
hand, no character was suspended on the longer or shorter duration of
the uneasiness of the parents of Imogen; and the joyful surprise they
would ere long experience, might abundantly compensate for any
temporary anxiety and solicitude. He told her of the worship and
reverence that were due to the immortal Gods. Could she imagine that
the scene that had just passed was produced for the mere honour and
gratification of a virtuous character, than for the instruction of the
ignorant, and the restoration of the wandering? Shall she be thus
honoured, and shall this be her gratitude?
Though the web of the sophistry woven by her betrayer might seem
inextricable, though Imogen had no sentiments more predominant than the
love of virtue, and the fear of the Gods, yet her heart involuntarily
resisted his persuasions, and she felt the yearnings of affection still
active in her bosom towards those, to whom she owed her existence.
“And cannot you,” cried the lovely maiden, “attend me in the short
absense I demand? That would prevent every danger, and supersede every
objection.” “Ah, shepherdess,” replied the magician, “this reluctance,
these studied expedients imply diffidence and disobedience. But
diffidence is much unworthy of the heart of Imogen. Your life has been
marked with one tenour of piety. Do not then begin to disobey. Do not
sully the unspotted whiteness of your character.”
“This,” rejoined Imogen, “is too much. This is mere savageness of
virtue. Why in the act of persuading me do you bestow upon me those
laboured commendations, which the very persuasions you employ are
intended to prove that I little deserve? Is it necessary, Roderic, that
your manners should be so strange and unaccountable, as to supply food
for eternal jealousy and suspicion? And what must be that conduct, that
inspires jealousy into a heart unguarded as mine? I talk of suspicion,
but I scarcely know the meaning of the term. And yet there is in your
carriage something precise, plausible and composed, that I have seldom
observed in any other man. Oh, shepherd! you know not what you do, when
you awake all these ideas in a maiden’s breast, when you thus confound
things that heaven and earth put asunder.”
“Ungenerous Imogen,” replied the magician, “wherefore this? Do I claim
any thing more of you than rectitude demands, and your own bosom will
another day approve? Am I not your better genius to guard you against
the errors that might be prompted by too tender a heart? Beside, does
the conduct of beings of a higher order depend upon my nod? Can I
control the spheres, and call down celestial essences from their bright
abodes? And will they be rendered subservient to the purposes of
treachery and guilt?”
“Roderic here break we off our conference. Sure I am that your conduct
is not dictated by a regard for my ease or my welfare. How unworthy
then, as well as how unjust is the pretence? With respect to the
supernatural scenes I have beheld, the question is more difficult. Of
such I have heard from the mouth of the consecrated priests, but never
till this day did I see them. At present however my mind is too much
distracted, to be able to decide. I have already gone far enough; as
far as my heart will permit me. I must now retire.’
“One thing however I will add. From the resolutions you at first
professed, and the impressions you appeared to feel, I had conceived
the most sanguine hopes, and the sincerest pleasure. These are all now
vanished. I cannot account for this. But your conduct is now as
mysterious to my comprehension, as it was before disgusting to my
judgment. I am bewildered in a maze of uncertainty. I am lost in
unwelcome obscurity. May your resolutions and designs be better than my
hopes! But ah, Roderic, for how much have you to answer, how deep must
be your guilt, if all this be mummery, dissimulation, and hypocrisy!”
The magician perceived that it was in vain to urge the stratagem any
further, and he retired from the presence of the shepherdess in
silence. If he had been able to distract her ingenuous mind between
contending duties, he had not however succeeded in his principal
object, that of undermining her virtue, and lessening her attachment to
her parents and her lover. If Imogen were perplexed and confounded,
Roderic was scarcely more happy. He looked back upon the scene with
mortification and astonishment. It was difficult for him to determine
where it had digressed from the auspicious appearances it had at first
exhibited, and yet he found himself in the conclusion of it wide, very
wide indeed, of the success of which he had aimed.
“To what purpose,” exclaimed he, with a voice of anguish and rage,
“have I inherited the most inexhaustible riches? To what purpose is the
command which I boast over the goblins of the abyss, if one weak,
simple, and uninstructed woman shall thus defy my arts? I call the
hills my own. I mount upon the turrets of my castle, and as far as my
eye can survey, the bending corn and the grazing herds belong to me. My
palace is adorned with all that can sooth the wearied frame, or gratify
the luxurious desire. Couches of purple, and services of gold, the most
exquisite viands, and the blandishments of enticing beauty, charms of
which the ruggedness of pastoral life has not so much as the idea, all
these are circled within my walls. Beyond all this, I command myriads
of spirits, invisible, and reputedly omnipotent. If I but stamp my
foot, if I but wave this wand, they fly swifter than the wings of
thought to my presence. One look of favour inspires them with
tranquility and exultation; one frown of displeasure terrifies them
into despair. I dispatch them far as the corners of the moon. At my
bidding they engage in the most toilsome enterprises, and undertake the
labour of revolving years. Oh impotence of power! oh mockery of state!
what end can ye now serve but to teach me to be miserable? Power, the
hands of which are chained and fettered in links of iron; state, which
is bestowed only like a paper crown to adorn the brows of a baby, are
the most cruel aggravations of disappointment, the most fearful insults
upon the weak. But shall I always obey the imperious mandate?”
“Yes, Roderic, thou shalt obey,” exclaimed the inimical goblin, who at
this moment burst through a condensed cloud, that had arisen
unperceived in one corner of the apartment, and appeared before him.
“In vain dost thou struggle with the links of destiny. In vain dost
thou exert thyself to escape from the fillets that on every side
surround thee. The greater and the more obstinate are thy efforts, the
more closely art thou bound, and the more inextricably engaged. This is
the situation in which I wished to see thee. Every pang it wrings from
thy heart, every exclamation it forces from thy tongue, is solace to my
thoughts, and music to my ears. And wert thou vain and weak enough to
imagine, that riches would purchase thee every pleasure, that riches
would furnish an inexhaustible source of enjoyment? Of all mortal
possessions they are the most useless, mischievous, and baleful. The
Gods, when the Gods are willing to perfect a character of depravity, in
order to make vice consummately detestable, or to administer an
exemplary punishment to distinguished wickedness, bestow upon that man,
as the last of curses, and the most refined of tortures, extensive
possessions and unbounded riches. Indulge to the mistaken pride which
these inspire, and wrap thyself up in the littleness of thy heart.—But
no, rise above them. Suffer thy desires to wander into a larger and
more dangerous field. Run with open eyes into the mouth of that
destruction that gapes to devour thee! Why shouldst thou attend to the
voice of destiny, to the immutable laws of the Gods, and the curse that
is suspended over thee? Be a man. Bravely defy all that is most
venerable, and all that is most unchangeable. Oh how I long for thy
ruin! How my heart pants for the illustrious hour in which thy _palaces
shall be crumbled down to the dust of the balance, thy riches
scattered, and thyself become an unpitied, necessitous, miserable
vagabond_! In the mean time, remember, that riches like thine are not
bestowed with u[n]reserving hand, that commerce is not permitted with
the shadows of darkness, without some trifling fall to ill amid this
immensity of uniform happiness. For this end I am commissioned from
time to time to appear before thee in the midst of thy triumph, and to
mingle with thy exultations the boding voice of prophetic woe.”
Roderic did not listen to these bitter sarcasms without exhibiting
every mark of fury and impatience. At length he commanded the spectre
to depart, with a voice so fierce and stern as to terrify him into
submission. For though the authority of the magician was not formidable
enough to make him desist from persecuting him, yet the penalties he
had frequently been able to inflict, inspired the goblin in spite of
himself, with the fear of so potent an adversary. Still choaked however
with agony and resentment, Roderic waved his wand, and summoned his
favourite instrument and the prime minister of his pleasures, the
goblin Medoro, to his presence. The moment he appeared the magician was
relieved from that violent gust of passion, which had held him
motionless, a statue of horror, and throwing himself upon his couch, he
burst into a flood of tears.
Medoro was the goblin that had appeared to Edwin in his return from the
feast of the bards, and had brewed the fatal storm that had preceded
the rape of Imogen. The figure of the spectre was uncouth, and his
countenance was full of savage and shapeless deformity. Nor did his
appearance bely his character. To all other beings, whether of the
terrestrial or the invisible world, his temper was hard, impracticable
and remorseless. To Rodogune alone, a similitude of minds, and a
congenial ferocity of heart had attached him; and the attachment had
descended to her son; though not equally destitute of every agreeable
and every plausible quality. He therefore beheld the affliction of
Roderic with sympathy and compassion.
“Wherefore,” cried Medoro, modulating a voice, that nature had made up
of dissonance and horror, into the most gentle and soothing accent of
which it was capable, and hanging over his couch, “wherefore this
sorrow? What is it that has seemed to mar a happiness so enviable? Art
thou not possessed”—“Talk not to me of possessions,” exclaimed Roderic,
with a tone of frenzy, and starting from his posture, “I give them to
the winds. I banish them from my thoughts for ever. Oh that the earth
would open and swallow them up! Oh that unburdened from them all, I
were free as the children of the vallies, and careless as the shepherd
that carols to the rising day. I had not then been thus entangled in
misfortune, thus every way closed in to remediless despair. I had not
then been a monument of impotence and misery for the world to gaze at.
Ye are all combined against me! Under a specious, smiling countenance
you all conceal a heart of gall. But your hypocrisy and your mummery
shall serve you to little purpose. Point me, this instant point me, to
a path for the gratification of my wishes, or dearly shall you rue the
shallowness of your invention and the treachery of your professions.”
Medoro was astonished at the vehemence of the passion of Roderic,
unusual even in a youth who had never been refused demands the most
unreasonable, and who had been inured to see all the powers of nature
bend to his will. “Is this,” cried he, “a return for services so
unwearied and sincere as mine? Foolish and ungrateful youth! Rut I will
point you to a remedy. Had you not been blinded with fury and
impatience, you would have seen that your situation was not yet
irremediable, by means the most obviously in your power. Did I not at
your birth bestow upon you a ring, that communicates to the wearer the
power of assuming what form he please? I gave it, in order to elude the
curse of the malignant goblin, to subdue the most obdurate female, and
to evade the most subtle adversary. The uses in which thou hast
hitherto employed it have been idle and capricious, governed by whim,
and dictated by the sallies of a sportive fancy. It is now first that
an opportunity is offered to turn it to those purposes for which it was
more immediately destined. Dost thou not now address an obdurate maid?
Is she not full of constancy and attachment for another? What avails it
then to a heart, simple and unvitiated as hers, to offer the bribe of
riches, and to lavish the incense of flattery and adulation. Attack her
in her love. Appear to her in the form of him to whom she is most
ardently attached. If Imogen is vulnerable, this is the quarter from
which she must be approached. Thus far Roderic thou mayest try thy
power; but if by this avenue thou canst not surprise her heart and
overpower her virtue, be then wise. Recollect thy courage, strengthen
thy resolution, and shake off for ever a capricious inclination, which
interrupts the tenour of a life that might otherwise wear the uniform
colour of happiness.”
The information of a new measure for the furthering his darling
pursuit, was a communication of the most reviving kind to the heart of
Roderic. The gloom and petulance that had collected upon his
countenance were dissipated in a moment. His cheek caught anew the
flush of expectation; his eye sparkled anew with the insolence of
victory. His gratitude to the propitious Medoro was now as immoderate
as his displeasure had lately been unreasonable. He walked along the
apartments with the stride of exultation and triumph. He forgot the
pathetic exclamations he had lately uttered upon the impotence of
power, and he was full of congratulation in the possession of that
which he had treated with contempt. The moral lessons which it was his
destiny to have from time to time poured into an unwilling ear were
erased for ever. He exclaimed upon his own stupidity and want of
invention, and he remembered not that vehemence of passion, which had
distracted his understanding, and drawn a cloud over all his ideas. It
was not instantly that he could assume a sufficient degree of
collectedness and composure to put into execution the scheme with which
he was so highly delighted. Presently however the ebriety of unexpected
hope dissipated, and he prepared for that scene which was to be
regarded as the summit of his power, and the irrevocable crisis of his
fate.