British -- Italy -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Rome (Italy) -- Fiction; Short stories
As to ambition, generally as the world agrees with Mark Antony in
stigmatising it as a grievous fault, I am myself clear that it is a
virtue; but with ambition at present we have no concern. Enthusiasm
also, as I think, leans to virtue's side; or, at least, if it be a fault,
of all faults it is the prettiest. But then, to partake at all of
virtue, or even to be in any degree pretty, the enthusiasm must be true.
Bad coin is known from good by the ring of it; and so is bad enthusiasm.
Let the coiner be ever so clever at his art, in the coining of enthusiasm
the sound of true gold can never be imparted to the false metal. And I
doubt whether the cleverest she in the world can make false enthusiasm
palatable to the taste of man. To the taste of any woman the enthusiasm
of another woman is never very palatable.
We understood at Home that Mrs. Talboys had a considerable family,--four
or five children, we were told; but she brought with her only one
daughter, a little girl about twelve years of age. She had torn herself
asunder, as she told me, from the younger nurslings of her heart, and had
left them to the care of a devoted female attendant, whose love was all
but maternal. And then she said a word or two about the General, in
terms which made me almost think that this quasi-maternal love extended
itself beyond the children. The idea, however, was a mistaken one,
arising from the strength of her language, to which I was then
unaccustomed. I have since become aware that nothing can be more
decorous than old Mrs. Upton, the excellent head-nurse at Hardover Lodge;
and no gentleman more discreet in his conduct than General Talboys.
And I may as well here declare, also, that there could be no more
virtuous woman than the General's wife. Her marriage vow was to her
paramount to all other vows and bonds whatever. The General's honour was
quite safe when he sent her off to Rome by herself; and he no doubt knew
that it was so. Illi robur et aes triplex, of which I believe no weapons
of any assailant could get the better. But, nevertheless, we used to
fancy that she had no repugnance to impropriety in other women,--to what
the world generally calls impropriety. Invincibly attached herself to
the marriage tie, she would constantly speak of it as by no means
necessarily binding on others; and, virtuous herself as any griffin of
propriety, she constantly patronised, at any rate, the theory of
infidelity in her neighbours. She was very eager in denouncing the
prejudices of the English world, declaring that she had found existence
among them to be no longer possible for herself. She was hot against the
stern unforgiveness of British matrons, and equally eager in reprobating
the stiff conventionalities of a religion in which she said that none of
its votaries had faith, though they all allowed themselves to be
enslaved.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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