The tranquillity which I now enjoyed did not
endure. Memory brought madness with it, and when I thought of what had
passed, a real insanity possessed me; sometimes I was furious and burnt
with rage, sometimes low and despondent. I neither spoke nor looked at
anyone, but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries
that overcame me.
Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits; her gentle
voice would soothe me when transported by passion and inspire me with
human feelings when sunk in torpor. She wept with me and for me. When
reason returned, she would remonstrate and endeavour to inspire me with
resignation. Ah! It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but
for the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the
luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of
grief. Soon after my arrival my father spoke of my immediate marriage
with Elizabeth. I remained silent.
"Have you, then, some other attachment?"
"None on earth. I love Elizabeth and look forward to our union with
delight. Let the day therefore be fixed; and on it I will consecrate
myself, in life or death, to the happiness of my cousin."
"My dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen
us, but let us only cling closer to what remains and transfer our love
for those whom we have lost to those who yet live. Our circle will be
small but bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251