Gothic fiction; Ireland -- History -- Rebellion of 1798 -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Romans à clef
“Glenarvon,” Lady Avondale replied, weeping bitterly. “I am much more
miserable than you can be; I have more love for you than it is possible
you can feel for me. I am not worth half what you inspire. I never will
consent to part.” “Then you must accompany me,” he said, looking her
full in the face. “Alas! if I do thus, how will yourself despise me.
When society, and those whose opinion you value, brand her name with
infamy who leaves all for you, where shall we fly from dishonor? how
will you bear up under my disgrace?” “I will bear you in my arms from
the country that condemns you—in my heart, your name shall continue
spotless as purity,” he replied,—“sacred as truth. I will resist every
opposition, and slay every one who shall dare to breathe one thought
against you. For you I could renounce and despise the world; and I will
teach you that love is in itself such ecstacy, that all we leave for it
is nothing to it.”
“How can I resist you?” she answered. “Allow me to hear and yet forget
the lessons which you teach—let me look on you, yet doubt you—let me
die for you, but not see you thus suffer.” “Come with me now—even now,”
said Glenarvon fiercely,—“I must make you mine before we part: then I
will trust you; but not till then.” He looked upon her with scorn, as
she struggled from his grasp. “Calantha, you affect to feel more than I
do,” he cried; “but your heart could not exist under what I endure. You
love!—Oh you do not know how to love.” “Do not be so cruel to me: look
not so fierce Glenarvon. For you, for you, I have tempted the dangers
of guilt; for you, I have trembled and wept; and, believe it, for you I
will bear to die.” “Then give yourself to me: this very hour be mine.”
“And I am yours for ever: but it must be your own free act and deed.”
“Fear not; Lady Margaret is in my power; I am appointed to an interview
with her to-morrow; and your aunt dares not refuse you, if you say that
you will see me. It is on your firmness I rely: be prudent: it is but
of late I counsel it. Deceit is indeed foreign to my nature; but what
disguise would I not assume to see you?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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