Tales and Stories: Now First CollectedShelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
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Tales and Stories: Now First Collected
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
This exclamation produced a thousand questions. I feared to shock her by
owning the truth, but she drew it from me; and then, casting a look of
disdain on me, she said,—
“You pretend to love, and you fear to face the Devil for my sake!”
I protested that I had only dreaded to offend her;—while she dwelt on
the magnitude of the reward that I should receive. Thus
encouraged—shamed by her—led on by love and hope, laughing at my late
fears, with quick steps and a light heart, I returned to accept the
offers of the alchymist, and was instantly installed in my office.
A year passed away. I became possessed of no insignificant sum of money.
Custom had banished my fears. In spite of the most painful vigilance, I
had never detected the trace of a cloven foot; nor was the studious
silence of our abode ever disturbed by demoniac howls. I still continued
my stolen interviews with Bertha, and Hope dawned on me—Hope—but not
perfect joy; for Bertha fancied that love and security were enemies, and
her pleasure was to divide them in my bosom. Though true of heart, she
was somewhat of a coquette in manner; and I was jealous as a Turk. She
slighted me in a thousand ways, yet would never acknowledge herself to
be in the wrong. She would drive me mad with anger, and then force me to
beg her pardon. Sometimes she fancied that I was not sufficiently
submissive, and then she had some story of a rival, favoured by her
protectress. She was surrounded by silk-clad youths—the rich and gay.
What chance had the sad-robed scholar of Cornelius compared with these?
On one occasion, the philosopher made such large demands upon my time,
that I was unable to meet her as I was wont. He was engaged in some
mighty work, and I was forced to remain, day and night, feeding his
furnaces and watching his chemical preparations. Bertha waited for me in
vain at the fountain. Her haughty spirit fired at this neglect; and when
at last I stole out during the few short minutes allotted to me for
slumber, and hoped to be consoled by her, she received me with disdain,
dismissed me in scorn, and vowed that any man should possess her hand
rather than he who could not be in two places at once for her sake. She
would be revenged! And truly she was. In my dingy retreat I heard that
she had been hunting, attended by Albert Hoffer. Albert Hoffer was
favoured by her protectress; and the three passed in cavalcade before my
smoky window. Methought that they mentioned my name; it was followed by
a laugh of derision, as her dark eyes glanced contemptuously towards my
abode.
Jealousy, with all its venom and all its misery, entered my breast. Now
I shed a torrent of tears, to think that I should never call her mine;
and, anon, I imprecated a thousand curses on her inconstancy. Yet, still
I must stir the fires of the alchymist, still attend on the changes of
his unintelligible medicines.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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