By which it will appear how dangerous an advocate a lady is when she
applies her eloquence to an ill purpose.
When Lady Bellaston heard the young lord's scruples, she treated them
with the same disdain with which one of those sages of the law, called
Newgate solicitors, treats the qualms of conscience in a young
witness. “My dear lord,” said she, “you certainly want a cordial. I
must send to Lady Edgely for one of her best drams. Fie upon it! have
more resolution. Are you frightened by the word rape? Or are you
apprehensive----? Well! if the story of Helen was modern, I should
think it unnatural. I mean the behaviour of Paris, not the fondness of
the lady; for all women love a man of spirit. There is another story
of the Sabine ladies--and that too, I thank heaven, is very antient.
Your lordship, perhaps, will admire my reading; but I think Mr Hook
tells us, they made tolerable good wives afterwards. I fancy few of my
married acquaintance were ravished by their husbands.” “Nay, dear Lady
Bellaston,” cried he, “don't ridicule me in this manner.” “Why, my
good lord,” answered she, “do you think any woman in England would not
laugh at you in her heart, whatever prudery she might wear in her
countenance?----You force me to use a strange kind of language, and to
betray my sex most abominably; but I am contented with knowing my
intentions are good, and that I am endeavouring to serve my cousin;
for I think you will make her a husband notwithstanding this; or, upon
my soul, I would not even persuade her to fling herself away upon an
empty title. She should not upbraid me hereafter with having lost a
man of spirit; for that his enemies allow this poor young fellow to
be.”
Let those who have had the satisfaction of hearing reflections of this
kind from a wife or a mistress, declare whether they are at all
sweetened by coming from a female tongue. Certain it is, they sunk
deeper into his lordship than anything which Demosthenes or Cicero
could have said on the occasion.
Lady Bellaston, perceiving she had fired the young lord's pride, began
now, like a true orator, to rouse other passions to its assistance.
“My lord,” says she, in a graver voice, “you will be pleased to
remember, you mentioned this matter to me first; for I would not
appear to you in the light of one who is endeavouring to put off my
cousin upon you. Fourscore thousand pounds do not stand in need of an
advocate to recommend them.” “Nor doth Miss Western,” said he,
“require any recommendation from her fortune; for, in my opinion, no
woman ever had half her charms.” “Yes, yes, my lord,” replied the
lady, looking in the glass, “there have been women with more than half
her charms, I assure you; not that I need lessen her on that account:
she is a most delicious girl, that's certain; and within these few
hours she will be in the arms of one, who surely doth not deserve her,
though I will give him his due, I believe he is truly a man of
spirit.”
“I hope so, madam,” said my lord; “though I must own he doth not
deserve her; for, unless heaven or your ladyship disappoint me, she
shall within that time be in mine.”
“Well spoken, my lord,” answered the lady; “I promise you no
disappointment shall happen from my side; and within this week I am
convinced I shall call your lordship my cousin in public.”
The remainder of this scene consisted entirely of raptures, excuses,
and compliments, very pleasant to have heard from the parties; but
rather dull when related at second hand. Here, therefore, we shall put
an end to this dialogue, and hasten to the fatal hour when everything
was prepared for the destruction of poor Sophia.
But this being the most tragical matter in our whole history, we shall
treat it in a chapter by itself.