LETTER XIV.
The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH to LORD DARCEY.
London.
Was every any thing so forgetful, to bring no other clothes here but mourning?
Really, my Lord, this favours a good deal of the matrimonial stile. Was you, commenced Benedict, I should think you had received lessons from the famous L——, who takes such pains with his pupils, that those whose attendance is frequent, can, in, the space of three months after the knot is tied, bring their wives to hear patiently the words—forgetful,—ridiculous,—absurd,—pish—poh,—and a thousand more of the same significant meaning.—I hear you, my Lord:—it is true, I am in jest; and know you would scorn to say even a peevish thing to a wife.
Why fret yourself to a skeleton about an absence of eight days?—How could you suppose she would let you go into Oxfordshire?—Proper decorums must be observed by that sex.—Are not those despicable who neglect them?—What would you have said, had she taken Edmund with her?—Don't storm:—on reflection you will find you had no greater right to expect that indulgence.
I have this morning had a letter from Dick Risby, that unfortunate, but worthy cousin of mine, just returned from the West-Indies to take on him the command of a company in Lord ——'s regiment. What a Father his!—to abandon such a son.—Leave him to the wide world at sixteen,—without a shilling, only to gratify the pride and avarice of his serpent daughter,—who had art sufficient to get this noble youth disinherited for her waddling brat, whose head was form'd large enough to contain his mother's mischief and his own.—In vain we attempted to set aside the will:—my brother would not leave England whilst there remained the least hopes for poor Risby.
I always dreaded Dick's going abroad, well knowing what a designing perfidious slut his sister was, from her very infancy.—Her parents drew down a curse by their blind indulgence:—even her nurse was charg'd not to contradict her; she was to have every thing for which she shewed the least inclination.
Lord Eggom and myself being near of an age with our cousins, were sometimes sent to play with them in their nursery; and, though boys of tolerable spirit, that vixen girl has so worried us by her tyrannic and impatient temper, that we have often petitioned, at our return home, to be put to bed supperless.—If sweet-meats were to be divided, she would cry to have the whole; the same in regard to cards,—shells,—money, or whatever else was sent for our entertainment.—When she has pinched us black and blue,—a complaint to her mother has been made by Dick, who could not bear to see us so used, though he was obliged to take such treatment himself, the only redress we should receive was—Poh! she is but a baby.—I thought you had all known better than to take notice of what such a child as Lucy does—Once, when this was said before her, me flew at me, and cry'd, I will pinch again, if I please;—papa and mamma says I shall,—and so does nurse; and I don't mind what any body else says.—I waited only for my revenge, till the two former withdrew; when sending the latter for a glass of water, I gave Miss such a glorious tacking, as I believe she has never tasted the like before or since.—In the midst of the fray, I heard nurse running up, which made me hasten what I owed on my own account, to remind her of the favours she had conferred on Lord Eggom and her brother.—If such a termagant in her infant state,—judge what she must be at a time of life when her passions are in full vigour, and govern without controul!—I have just shewn the method of rearing this diabolical plant, that you may not wonder at its productions.—I shall see justice overtake her, notwithstanding the long strides she is making to escape.
Dick will be in town with us most part of the winter:—I have wrote him to that purpose, and mention'd your name. He will rejoice to see you:—I have often heard him regret your acquaintance was of so short standing.—Bridgman set out for York the day before I arrived; his servants inform me he is not expected back this three weeks.
I like our lodgings vastly; but more so as the master and mistress of the family are excessively clean and obliging; two things so material to my repose, that I absolutely could not dispense patiently with either.—This it was which made me felicitous about taking a house; I am now so happily situated, I wish not to have one in town whilst I remain a batchelor. Heaven knows how long that will be!—Your nonpareil has given me a dislike to all my former slight prepossessions.
Lady Elizabeth Curtis!—I did once indeed think a little seriously of her:—but such a meer girl!—Perhaps the time she has spent in France, Germany, and the Lord knows where, may have changed her from a little bewitching, smiling, artless creature—to a vain, designing, haughty,—I could call a coquet by a thousand names;—but Lady Elizabeth can-not, must not be a coquet.—Cupid, though, shall never tye a bandage over my eyes.—The charms that must fix me are not to be borrow'd;—I shall look for them in her affection to her relations;—in a condescending behaviour to inferiors;—above all, when she offers up her first duties.—If she shines here, I shall not follow her to the card-table, or play-house:—every thing must be right in a heart where duty, affection, and humility, has the precedence.
The misfortune of our sex is this: when taken with a fine face, we enquire no further than, Is she polite?—Is she witty? Does she dance well?—sing well?—in short, is she fit to appear in the Beau Monde; whilst good sense and virtues which constitute real happiness, are left out of the question.
How does beauty,—politeness—wit,—a fine voice,—a graceful movement, charm!—But how often are we deceiv'd by them.—An instance of which I have lately seen in our old friend Sir Harry. No man on earth can pity that poor soul more than I do; yet I have laughed hours to think of his mistake. So mild—so gentle—said he, George, a week before his marriage, I should have said execution,—it is impossible to put her out of humour.—If I am not the happiest man breathing, it must be my own fault.
What was my astonishment when I call'd on him in my way to town, and found this mild gentle mate of his, aided by a houseful of her relations, had not only deprived him of all right and authority in the Castle, but almost of his very speech!
I dropt in about one, told the Baronet I came five miles out of my way for the pleasure of saluting his bride, and to drink a bottle of claret with him.—He was extremely glad to see me; and ventured to say so, before I was introduced to the Ladies:—but I saw by his sneaking look, no such liberty must be taken in their presence.—My reception was gracious enough, considering all communication is cut off between him and his former acquaintance.
Scarce was I seated, before the old Dowager asked me, if her daughter had not made great alterations in the little time she had been at the Castle.
Alterations, Madam! I reply'd;—upon my honour, they are so visible, no person can avoid being struck with them.—How could your father and mother, Sir Harry, bear to live in such an wood? looking and speaking disdainfully.—He smiled obsequious—hemm'd—trembled, and was silent.—I hope, continued she, not to see a tree remaining near this house before the next summer.—We want much, Mr. Molesworth, turning to me with quite a different look and voice, to have the pleasure-ground laid out:—but really her Ladyship has had so much to set in order within doors, that it has taken off her attention a good deal from what is necessary to be done without.—However, Sir, you shall see our design; so, my dear, speaking to her daughter, let Sir Harry fetch the plan.
It is in my closet, returned her Ladyship, and I don't chuse to send him there;—but I'll ring for Sally.
I had like that moment to have vow'd a life of celibacy—I saw him redden;—how could he avoid it, if one spark of manhood remain'd?
The indignation I felt threw such a mist before my eyes, that when the plan was laid on the table, I could scarce distinguish temples from clumps of shrubs, or Chinese seats from green slopes.—Yet this reptile of a husband could look over my shoulder, hear the opinion of every one present, without daring to give his own.
I was more out of patience at dinner.—Bless me, says her Ladyship, how aukward you are when I bid you cut up any thing!—the mother and daughter echoing, Never was there such a carver as Sir Harry!—Well, I vow, cry'd the latter, it is a strange thing you will not remember, so often as I have told you, to lay the meat handsome in the dish.
Good God! thought I, can this man live out half his days?—And, faith, if I had not drank five bumpers of Madeira, I could not have stood the sight of his fearful countenance.
He perceived I was distress'd, and whisper'd me as I mounted my horse,—You see how it is, Molesworth; breeding women must not be contradicted.—
I do, I do see how it is, return'd I; and could not for my soul forbear saying, I shall rejoice to hear of a delivery.
This is the day when the important affairs of the m——y are to be settled; the papers will inform you; but can a man in love have any relish for politics?—Pray, divest yourself of that plague, when you attend the house.—I should drop to hear you say you espouse this or that cause, for the love of Miss Warley, instead of your country.
Next Friday!—Well, I long to see you after a dreadful, dreadful absence of eight days.—There is something confounded ridiculous in all this stuff; nor can I scarce credit that man should pine, fret, and make himself unhappy, because he is loosed from the apron-strings of his Phillida for a few days.—I see you shrug;—but my fate is not dependent on your prognostications.—Was it so, I know where I should be,—down amongst the dead men;—down amongst the dead men.—
However, I would consent to be rank'd in the number of Cupid's slain, could I be hit by just such a dart as pierc'd you.
Vulcan certainly has none ready made that will do, unless he sharpens the points of those which have already recoiled.
But hold; I must descend from the clouds, to regale myself on a fine turtle at the Duke of R——d's. What an epicure! Talk of feasting my palate, when my eyes are to meet delicacies of a far more inviting nature!—There was a time I should have been envy'd such a repast:—that time is fled;—you are no longer a monopolizer of beauty;—can sing but of one,—talk but of one—dream but of one,—and, what is still more extraordinary, love but one.—
Give me a heart at large;—such confin'd notions are not for
MOLESWORTH.