书城公版The Mysteries of Udolpho
19896600000127

第127章

'I am going from hence for ever,' said he: 'perhaps, I shall never see you again.I would carry with me your forgiveness, Emily; nay more--I would also carry your good wishes.'

'You have my forgiveness, then,' said Emily, 'and my sincere wishes for your recovery.'

'And only for my recovery?' said Morano, with a sigh.'For your general welfare,' added Emily.

'Perhaps I ought to be contented with this,' he resumed; 'I certainly have not deserved more; but I would ask you, Emily, sometimes to think of me, and, forgetting my offence, to remember only the passion which occasioned it.I would ask, alas! impossibilities: I would ask you to love me! At this moment, when I am about to part with you, and that, perhaps, for ever, I am scarcely myself.Emily--may you never know the torture of a passion like mine! What do I say?

O, that, for me, you might be sensible of such a passion!'

Emily looked impatient to be gone.'I entreat you, Count, to consult your own safety,' said she, 'and linger here no longer.I tremble for the consequences of Signor Verezzi's passion, and of Montoni's resentment, should he learn that you are still here.'

Morano's face was overspread with a momentary crimson, his eyes sparkled, but he seemed endeavouring to conquer his emotion, and replied in a calm voice, 'Since you are interested for my safety, Iwill regard it, and be gone.But, before I go, let me again hear you say, that you wish me well,' said he, fixing on her an earnest and mournful look.

Emily repeated her assurances.He took her hand, which she scarcely attempted to withdraw, and put it to his lips.'Farewell, Count Morano!' said Emily; and she turned to go, when a second message arrived from Montoni, and she again conjured Morano, as he valued his life, to quit the castle immediately.He regarded her in silence, with a look of fixed despair.But she had no time to enforce her compassionate entreaties, and, not daring to disobey the second command of Montoni, she left the corridor, to attend him.

He was in the cedar parlour, that adjoined the great hall, laid upon a couch, and suffering a degree of anguish from his wound, which few persons could have disguised, as he did.His countenance, which was stern, but calm, expressed the dark passion of revenge, but no symptom of pain; bodily pain, indeed, he had always despised, and had yielded only to the strong and terrible energies of the soul.He was attended by old Carlo and by Signor Bertolini, but Madame Montoni was not with him.

Emily trembled, as she approached and received his severe rebuke, for not having obeyed his first summons; and perceived, also, that he attributed her stay in the corridor to a motive, that had not even occurred to her artless mind.

'This is an instance of female caprice,' said he, 'which I ought to have foreseen.Count Morano, whose suit you obstinately rejected, so long as it was countenanced by me, you favour, it seems, since you find I have dismissed him.'

Emily looked astonished.'I do not comprehend you, sir,' said she:

'You certainly do not mean to imply, that the design of the Count to visit the double-chamber, was founded upon any approbation of mine.'

'To that I reply nothing,' said Montoni; 'but it must certainly be a more than common interest, that made you plead so warmly in his cause, and that could detain you thus long in his presence, contrary to my express order--in the presence of a man, whom you have hitherto, on all occasions, most scrupulously shunned!'

'I fear, sir, it was a more than common interest, that detained me,'

said Emily calmly; 'for of late I have been inclined to think, that of compassion is an uncommon one.But how could I, could YOU, sir, witness Count Morano's deplorable condition, and not wish to relieve it?'

'You add hypocrisy to caprice,' said Montoni, frowning, 'and an attempt at satire, to both; but, before you undertake to regulate the morals of other persons, you should learn and practise the virtues, which are indispensable to a woman--sincerity, uniformity of conduct and obedience.'