"Palpably wrong! I'll prove it. Fifty husbands! How delightful—Beg pardon, madam."
"I tried the Douglas hardly for it. But he was too selfish, and would not die for me. Base, cruel knight! No, he would not die for me; even though I got him to believe that I was put to death, and my ghost haunting him, yet he would not kill himself. What a value those monstrous men set upon their lives! Musgrave died. Lady Jane has conquered, and I am married! I wish I were dead, Kirkmichael!"
"'Tis a pity but that you were, madam! If ladies are to live on these terms with the world, they had better be out of it. For you know if the man that one loves best will not condescend always to die when the gratification of his mistress' vanity requires it, why there is an end of all endurance. I managed otherwise with young Spinola."
"Mention the name of your Spinola again to me for the head that stands on your body, since you deprecate the more gentle prescription of bleeding below the tongue; and now find me some anodyne without delay for the distemper that is preying on my vitals. None of your jeers and your jibes, Kirkmichael, for I am not in humour to bear them. The worst thing of all is yet to come. This puppet,—this painted doll,—this thing of wax! after triumphing over me in my own country and among my own people,—after being died for, while I was only lived for,—after being courted, and flattered, and smiled on, while I was only bowed to and gazed on,—after being carressed by my father, and bedaubed with praises by my newfangled and volatile mother,—after all this, I say, there is she going to be set at liberty, and without all question wedded to one of the royal dukes, one of the princes of the blood! How shall the blood of the Bruce and the spirit of the Stuart brook this? Before I heard of that lady's name, I knew not what jealousy was. Ever since that time has she held me in misery. I thought I had once achieved the greatest conquest that ever was accomplished by heroine. And I did seize a noble prize! How has it turned out?—in every instance to her honour, and my disparagement. And there, through the unnatural fondness of my doating mother, will she return home, and be courted for her princely fortune, not for her beauty I am sure! But then, they will hear that the bravest and most chivalrous knight in England died for her; and as certainly as I speak to you, will she achieve a higher marriage than Margaret, and how shall she ever show her face again?"
"A higher marriage than you, dearest lady? Then must she be married to some of the kings on the continent, for in all the dominion of England there is not a subject of such power as your lord, the Earl of Douglas and Mar, nor one whose military honours flourish so proudly."
"My lord and husband is all that I could wish in man, only——"
"Only that he is not dead. That's all."
"You had better! Only I say that he is not a prince of the blood royal, Mary. Think of that. There are many such in England. And there to a certainty will my great and only rival be wedded to one of these. The Duke of York or Glocester, mayhap; or to Prince Henry, the heir of the house of Mortimer, and then she'll be a queen! Yes, Kirkmichael! then she will be queen of England!—And I—what will I be? No more than plain Lady Douglas! The wife of the Black Douglas!—Och! what shall I do, Mary? I'll go and wipe my shoes on her as long as I have it in my power."
"Tarry for a small space; there is time enough for that afterward, my dearest lady. Be staid for a little while, till I tell you a secret. A very important and profound one it is, and it behoves you to know it. There is a certain distemper that young newly married ladies are subjected to, which, is entitled PHRENZY, or some such delightful name. Some call it derangement of intellect, but that is too long a name, I hate long names, or very long things of any sort. So you must know, madam, that this delightful trouble, for it is delightful in its way, produces a great deal of animation. It is quite proper you should know this grand matrimonial secret, madam. This delicious, spirit-stirring trouble then soon goes off, and when it goes all the giddy vapours of youth fly with it. The mirror of the eye is changed, its convex being thence turned inward, reflecting all nature on the soul in a different light from that in which it had ever appeared before; and, at the same time the whole structure and frame of the character is metamorphosed, and the being that is thus transmuted becomes a more rational and respectable creature than it was previously, and at the same time a more happy one, although it must be acknowledged its happiness is framed on a different model. This is my secret, and it is quite proper that every young lady who is married should be initiated into it. As for the old ones, they are too wise to be initiated into any thing; or for any thing to be initiated into them."
"Now, you imagine you have said a very wise thing; and it is not without shrewdness. But I can add a principal part which you have wholly left out, and it is this: When the patient is labouring under this disease, it is absolutely necessary that she be indulged, and humoured in every one of her caprices, else her convalesence is highly equivocal. Don't you acknowledge this?"