The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — CompleteSmollett, T. (Tobias)
General
The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Adventure stories; Gothic fiction
Antonia seemed to vie with me in expressions of regard for this
accomplished stranger, whom she could not help supposing to be a person
of rank and family, reduced to his present situation by some
unfortunate vicissitude of fate. I was disposed to concur with this
opinion, and actually conjured him to make me his confidant, with such
protestations as left him no room to doubt my honour and beneficence;
but he still persisted in declaring himself the son of an obscure
mechanic in Bohemia; an origin to which surely no man would pretend who
had the least claim to nobility of birth. While I was thus undeceived
in my conjecture touching his birth and quality, I was confirmed in an
opinion of his integrity and moderation, and looked upon him as a man
of honour, in despite of the lowness of his pedigree. Nevertheless, he
was at bottom a most perfidious wretch, and all this modesty and
self-denial were the effects of the most villanous dissimulation, a
cloak under which he, unsuspected, robbed me of my honour and my peace.
Not to trouble you with particulars, the recital of which would tear my
heart-strings with indignation and remorse, I shall only observe, that,
by the power of his infernal insinuation, he fascinated the heart of
Serafina, brought over Antonia herself to the interests of his passion,
and at once detached them both from their duty and religion. Heaven and
earth! how dangerous, how irresistible is the power of infatuation!
While I remained in the midst of this blind security, waiting for the
nuptials of my daughter, and indulging myself with the vain prospect of
her approaching felicity, Antonia found means to protract the
negotiations of the marriage, by representing that it would be a pity
to deprive Serafina of the opportunity she then had of profiting by the
German’s instructions; and, upon that account, I prevailed upon Don
Manuel to bridle the impatience of his love.
During this interval, as I one evening enjoyed the cool air in my own
garden, I was accosted by an old duenna, who had been my nurse and
lived in the family since the time of my childhood.—“My duty,” said
she, “will no longer permit me to wink in silence at the wrongs I see
you daily suffer. Dismiss that German from your house without delay, if
you respect the glory of your name, and the rights of our holy
religion; the stranger is an abominable heretic; and, grant Heaven! he
may not have already poisoned the minds of those you hold most dear.” I
had been extremely alarmed at the beginning of this address; but,
finding the imputation limited to the article of religion, in which,
thank God, I am no bigot, I recovered my serenity of disposition,
thanked the old woman for her zeal, commended her piety, and encouraged
her to persevere in making observations on such subjects as should
concern my honour and my quiet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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