Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1Burney, Fanny
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Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1
Burney, Fanny
England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
The confusion of Cecilia at this public address, which drew upon her the
eyes and attention of all the company, was inexpressible; she arose from
her seat, covered with blushes, and saying, “I fancy the carriage must
be ready,” pressed forward to quit the room, followed by Sir Robert, who
answered, “No, no, they'll call it when it comes up. Arnott, will you go
and see where it is?”
Cecilia stopt, but whispered Mrs Harrel to stand near her.
“And whither,” cried Albany indignantly, “whither wouldst thou go? Art
thou already disdainful of my precepts? and canst thou not one short
moment spare from the tumultuous folly which encircles thee? Many and
many are the hours thou mayst spend with such as these; the world,
alas! is full of them; weary not then, so soon, of an old man that
would admonish thee,--he cannot call upon thee long, for soon he will be
called upon himself!”
This solemn exhortation extremely distressed her; and fearing to still
further offend him by making another effort to escape, she answered in
a low voice, “I will not only hear, but thank you for your precepts, if
you will forbear to give them before so many witnesses.”
“Whence,” cried he sternly, “these vain and superficial distinctions? Do
you not dance in public? What renders you more conspicuous? Do you not
dress to be admired, and walk to be observed? Why then this fantastical
scruple, unjustified by reason, unsupported by analogy? Is folly only
to be published? Is vanity alone to be exhibited? Oh slaves of senseless
contradiction! Oh feeble followers of yet feebler prejudice! daring to
be wicked, yet fearing to be wise; dauntless in levity, yet shrinking
from the name of virtue!”
The latter part of this speech, during which he turned with energy to
the whole company, raised such a general alarm, that all the ladies
hastily quitted the room, and all the gentlemen endeavoured to enter
it, equally curious to see the man who made the oration, and the lady
to whom it was addressed. Cecilia, therefore, found her situation
unsupportable; “I must go,” she cried, “whether there is a carriage or
not! pray, Mrs Harrel, let us go!”
Sir Robert then offered to take her hand, which she was extremely ready
to give him; but while the crowd made their passage difficult, Albany,
following and stopping her, said, “What is it you fear? a miserable old
man, worn out by the sorrows of that experience from which he offers
you counsel? What, too, is it you trust? a libertine wretch, coveting
nothing but your wealth, for the gift of which he will repay you by the
perversion of your principles!”
“What the d--l do you mean by that?” cried the Baronet.
“To shew,” answered he, austerely, “the inconsistency of false delicacy;
to show how those who are too timid for truth, can fearless meet
licentiousness.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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