Riperdá, Juan Guillermo, Duke of, 1680-1737 -- Fiction; Wharton, Philip Wharton, Duke of, 1698-1731 -- Fiction
As he spoke, he relaxed his hand from the grasp he held of Louis's arm,
and with a smothered sigh, which he sought to hide under a cough, he
turned hastily across the corridor. Louis's heart smote him.
"I have been selfish and arrogant! I have been accessible to ill
impressions; and, even now, to suspicions of the motives of him, I once
so devoutly honoured.--Alas!" said he, to himself, "I have not acted
like a friend! I might have broken from him, since duty required it,
but I need not thus have wounded him!"
As at one instant of time all these thoughts flashed over his mind,
he stood, without attempting to follow his friend; but he could not
help exclaiming,--"Wharton!" Wharton still passed on. "He quits me
in deserved resentment!" said Louis, his heart overflowing with
contrition; and extricating his feet from the spot, where they had
seemed rooted, he made two or three swift steps towards him.
"Wharton!" repeated he, when he drew near, "that farewell must not be
for ever!"
Wharton turned round with a lofty and serious air;--"and, why should
you wish it otherwise?"
"Because," returned Louis, catching his hand, "I value your friendship
as my life, but not beyond my honour." Wharton gazed a moment on his
agitated countenance. In a softened voice, though yet maintaining his
unusual gravity, he replied, "you could not suppose I should ask you to
betray that in yourself, which is my own impugnable estate!"
Louis did not speak; but, with bent eyes, to conceal the tears which
filled them, pressed the Duke's hand. Wharton returned the cordial
re-assurance; and with a smile playing through his seriousness, he
added, "and least of all, when one of the dear sex, I have so long
adored to my cost, holds your honour in the charming fetters you have
just been hugging to your heart!"
Louis dropped the hand he was so affectionately clasping; and exclaimed
with energy, "by that honour, I swear that no amorous passion brought
me hither to-night!"
"Nor any night? nor any morning?" replied Wharton, with more of his
wonted gaiety! "I will believe just what you please; only make me a
vow that she shall not absorb you entirely; and, though I admire the
lady and love the sex, I will promise never to wish a reversion in my
favour!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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