The Castle of Otranto & The Old English Baron. Horace Walpole

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      “Lord! madam, how little you know of love!” replied Bianca: “why, lovers have no pleasure equal to talking of their mistress.”

      “And would you have me become a peasant’s confidant?” said the princess.

      “Well, then, let me talk to him,” said Bianca: “though I have the honour of being your highness’s maid of honour, I was not always so great. Besides, if love levels ranks, it raises them too: I have a respect for a young man in love.”

      “Peace, simpleton,” said the princess. “Though he said he was unhappy, it does not follow that he must be in love. Think of all that has happened to-day, and tell me, if there are no misfortunes but what love causes.—Stranger,” resumed the princess, “if thy misfortunes have not been occasioned by thy own fault, and are within the compass of the Princess Hippolita’s power to redress, I will take upon me to answer that she will be thy protectress. When thou art dismissed from this castle, repair to holy Father Jerome, at the convent adjoining to the church of St. Nicholas, and make thy story known to him, as far as thou thinkest meet. He will not fail to inform the princess, who is the mother of all that want her assistance. Farewell! It is not seemly for me to hold further converse with a man at this unwonted hour.”

      “May the saints guard thee, gracious lady!” replied the peasant; “but, oh! if a poor and worthless stranger might presume to beg a minute’s audience further—am I so happy?—the casement is not shut—might I venture to ask——”

      “Speak quickly,” said Matilda; “the morning dawns apace; should the labourers come into the fields and perceive us—what wouldst thou ask?”

      “I know not how—I know not if I dare,” said the young stranger, faltering; “yet the humanity with which you have spoken to me emboldens—lady, dare I trust you?”

      “Heavens,” said Matilda, “what dost thou mean? with what wouldst thou trust me?—speak boldly, if thy secret is fit to be entrusted to a virtuous breast.”

      “I would ask,” said the peasant, recollecting himself, “whether what I have heard from the domestics is true, that the princess is missing from the castle.”

      “What imports it to thee to know?” replied Matilda: “thy first words bespoke a prudent and becoming gravity. Dost thou come hither to pry into the secrets of Manfred? Adieu. I have been mistaken in thee.” Saying these words, she shut the casement hastily, without giving the young man time to reply.

      “I had acted more wisely,” said the princess to Bianca, with some sharpness, “if I had let thee converse with this peasant: his inquisitiveness seems of a piece with thy own.”

      “It is not fit for me to argue with your highness,” replied Bianca; “but perhaps the questions I should have put to him would have been more to the purpose than those you have been pleased to ask him.”

      “Oh, no doubt,” said Matilda; “you are a very discreet personage! may I know what you would have asked him?”

      “A bystander often sees more of the game than those that play,” answered Bianca. “Does your highness think, madam, that his question about my Lady Isabella was the result of mere curiosity? No, no, madam; there is more in it than you great folks are aware of. Lopez told me, that all the servants believe this young fellow contrived my Lady Isabella’s escape—now, pray, madam, observe—you and I both know that my Lady Isabella never much fancied the prince your brother—well, he is killed just in the critical minute—I accuse nobody. A helmet falls from the moon—so my lord, your father, says; but Lopez and all the servants say, that this young spark is a magician, and stole it from Alfonso’s tomb.”

      “Have done with this rhapsody of impertinence,” said Matilda.

      “Nay, madam, as you please,” cried Bianca; “yet it is very particular, though, that my Lady Isabella should be missing the very same day, and that this young sorcerer should be found at the mouth of the trap-door—I accuse nobody—but if my young lord came honestly by his death——”

      “Dare not, on thy duty,” said Matilda, “to breathe a suspicion on the purity of my dear Isabella’s fame.”

      “Purity or not purity,” said Bianca, “gone she is—a stranger is found that nobody knows. You question him yourself. He tells you he is in love, or unhappy, it is the same thing—nay, he owned he was unhappy about others; and is anybody unhappy about another unless they are in love with them? and at the very next word he asks innocently, poor soul, if my Lady Isabella is missing.”

      “To be sure,” said Matilda, “thy observations are not totally without foundation; Isabella’s flight amazes me. The curiosity of the stranger is very particular; yet Isabella never concealed a thought from me.”

      “So she told you,” said Bianca, “to fish out your secrets; but who knows, madam, but this stranger may be some prince in disguise? Do, madam, let me open the window, and ask him a few questions.”

      “No,” replied Matilda, “I will ask him myself: if he knows aught of Isabella, he is not worthy that I should converse farther with him.” She was going to open the casement, when they heard the bell ring at the postern gate of the castle, which is on the right hand of the tower where Matilda lay. This prevented the princess from renewing the conversation with the stranger.

      After continuing silent for some time, “I am persuaded,” said she to Bianca, “that whatever be the cause of Isabella’s flight, it had no unworthy motive. If this stranger was accessory to it, she must be satisfied of his fidelity and worth. I observed, did not you, Bianca? that his words were tinctured with an uncommon infusion of piety. It was no ruffian’s speech: his phrases were becoming a man of gentle birth.”

      “I told you, madam,” said Bianca, “that I was sure he was some prince in disguise.”

      “Yet,” said Matilda, “if he was privy to her escape how will you account for his not accompanying her in her flight? Why expose himself unnecessarily and rashly to my father’s resentment?”

      “As for that, madam,” replied she, “if he could get from under the helmet, he will find ways of eluding your father’s anger. I do not doubt but he has some talisman or other about him.”

      “You resolve everything into magic,” said Matilda; “but a man who has any intercourse with infernal spirits does not dare to make use of those tremendous and holy words which he uttered. Didst thou not observe with what fervour he vowed to remember me to Heaven in his prayers? yes; Isabella was undoubtedly convinced of his piety.”

      “Commend me to the piety of a young fellow and a damsel that consult to elope!” said Bianca. “No, no, madam; my Lady Isabella is of another guess-mould than you take her for. She used, indeed, to sigh and lift up her eyes in your company, because she knows you are a saint; but when your back was turned——”

      “You wrong her,” said Matilda. “Isabella is no hypocrite: she has a due sense of devotion, but never affected a call she has not. On the contrary, she always combated my inclination for the cloister; and though I own the mystery she has made to me of her flight confounds me—though it seems inconsistent with the friendship between us—I cannot forget the disinterested warmth with which she always opposed my taking the veil: she wished to see me married, though my dower would have been a loss to her and my brother’s СКАЧАТЬ