Bungay Castle: A Novel. v. 1/2Bonhote, Mrs. (Elizabeth)
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Bungay Castle: A Novel. v. 1/2
Bonhote, Mrs. (Elizabeth)
English fiction -- 18th century
The dancing was begun with avidity and spirit, which some very excellent
music served to heighten and keep up. The Baron not ungracefully
exhibited his well-dressed person, and this great personage had the
satisfaction of seeing that the eyes of the company were chiefly fixed
upon him who had procured them this unexpected indulgence,--a
circumstance unusual in an age when expensive pleasures were confined to
the higher ranks of life, and by that means less coveted by those in
inferior stations, which certainly tended to the good of society in
general, as it served to render all parties contented with their lot. We
now often see, with pity and regret, if young people are thrown by
chance into a walk of life some degrees higher than their habitual one,
they seldom know how to return to their former humble path without
discontent and regret, which will too often lead them to sacrifice
virtue, and every real good, for the frivolous nonsense of the dress and
the parade of ceremony, while, to obtain the enjoyment of pleasures
destructive to time and real happiness, they will give up their peace of
mind, not repent the poor bargain they have made so long as they can
live in stile.
Some few pitied, but a far greater number envied Roseline for having
made so important a conquest, and were surprised to see how little she
was animated amidst the exhilirating scene of gaiety and splendor,
wholly occupying the attention of one of the first barons in the
kingdom, whose smile by most people would be reckoned an honour, and
whose frown among many was destruction from which there was often no
appeal.
Every rarity that could be procured was set before the party.
Hospitality and festivity went hand in hand, and, to a careless and
uninterested spectator, it would have seemed that universal happiness
prevailed; but it was far otherwise. Happiness is seldom found amidst
a crowd. In the more retired scenes of serene unambitious enjoyment,
we have a much better change of finding that rara avis, and of
retaining it in our possession, if possible to be found.
Sir Philip de Morney was tormented with fears that the obstinacy of his
daughter would disappoint his ambition, while the tenderness of her
mother had so far subdued the influence of her pride, that, to see her
daughter restored to her former health and spirits, she would gladly
have yielded up the honour of an alliance with the Baron.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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