The Stranger Part 12

_Bar._ And that is--

_Countess._ Whether Mrs. Haller will have you or not.

_Bar._ There, sister, I just want your a.s.sistance.--[_Seizing her hand._] Good Henrietta!

_Countess._ Well, here's my hand. I'll do all I can for you. St!--We had near been overheard. They are coming. Be patient and obedient.

_Enter COUNT, and MRS. HALLER, leaning on his arm._

_Count._ Upon my word, Mrs. Haller, you are a nimble walker: I should be sorry to run a race with you.

_Mrs. H._ Custom, my lord. You need only take the same walk every day for a month.

_Count._ Yes; if I wanted to resemble my greyhounds.--But what said the Stranger?

_Countess._ He gave Charlotte a flat refusal; and you see his door, and even his shutters, are closed against us.

_Count._ What an unaccountable being! But it won't do. I must show my grat.i.tude one way or other. Steinfort, we will take the ladies home, and then you shall try once again to see him. You can talk to these oddities better than I can.

_Bar._ If you wish it, with all my heart.

_Count._ Thank you, thank you. Come, ladies: come Mrs. Haller.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_A close walk in the Garden._

_Enter COUNTESS, and MRS. HALLER._

_Countess._ Well, Mrs. Haller, how do you like the man that just now left us?

_Mrs. H._ Who?

_Countess._ My brother.

_Mrs. H._ He deserves to be your brother.

_Countess._ [_Curtseying._] Your most obedient! That shall be written in my pocket-book.

_Mrs. H._ Without flattery then, madam, he appears to be most amiable.

_Countess._ Good!--And a handsome man?

_Mrs. H._ [_With indifference._] Oh, yes.

_Countess._ "Oh, yes!" It sounded almost like, "Oh, no!" But I must tell you, that he looks upon you to be a handsome woman [_MRS. HALLER smiles._] You make no reply to this?

_Mrs. H._ What shall I reply? Derision never fell from your lips; and I am little calculated to support it.

_Countess._ As little as you are calculated to be the cause of it. No; I was in earnest.--Now?

_Mrs. H._ You confuse me!--But why should I play the prude? I will own there was a time, when I thought myself handsome. 'Tis past. Alas! the enchanting beauties of a female countenance arise from peace of mind--The look, which captivates an honourable man, must be reflected from a n.o.ble soul.

_Countess._ Then Heaven grant my bosom may ever hold as pure a heart, as now those eyes bear witness lives in yours!

_Mrs. H._ [_With sudden wildness._] Oh! Heaven forbid!

_Countess._ [_Astonished._] How!

_Mrs. H._ [_Checking her tears._] Spare me! I am a wretch. The sufferings of three years can give me no claim to your friendship--No, not even to your compa.s.sion. Oh! spare me! [_Going._

_Countess._ Stay, Mrs. Haller. For the first time, I beg your confidence.--My brother loves you.

_Mrs. H._ [_Starting, and gazing full in the face of the COUNTESS._] For mirth, too much--for earnest, too mournful!

_Countess._ I revere that modest blush. Discover to me who you are. You risk nothing. Pour all your griefs into a sister's bosom. Am I not kind?

and can I not be silent?

_Mrs. H._ Alas! But a frank reliance on a generous mind is the greatest sacrifice to be offered by true repentance. This sacrifice I will offer.

[_Hesitating._] Did you never hear--Pardon me--Did you never hear--Oh!

how shocking is it to unmask a deception, which alone has recommended me to your regard! But it must be so.--Madam--Fie, Adelaide! does pride become you? Did you never hear of the Countess Waldbourg?

_Countess._ I think I did hear, at the neighbouring court, of such a creature. She plunged an honourable husband into misery. She ran away with a villain.

_Mrs. H._ She did indeed. [_Falls at the feet of the COUNTESS._] Do not cast me from you.

_Countess._ For Heaven's sake! You are--

_Mrs. H._ I am that wretch.

_Countess._ [_Turning from her with horror._] Ha!--Begone! [_Going. Her heart draws her back._] Yet, she is unfortunate: she is unfriended! Her image is repentance--Her life the proof--She has wept her fault in her three years agony. Be still awhile, remorseless prejudice, and let the genuine feelings of my soul avow--they do not truly honour virtue, who can insult the erring heart that would return to her sanctuary.

[_Looking with sorrow on her._] Rise, I beseech you, rise! My husband and my brother may surprise us. I promise to be silent.

[_Raising her._

_Mrs. H._ Yes, you will be silent--But, oh! conscience! conscience! thou never wilt be silent. [_Clasping her hands._] Do not cast me from you.

_Countess._ Never! Your lonely life, your silent anguish and contrition, may at length atone your crime. And never shall you want an asylum, where your penitence may lament your loss. Your crime was youth and inexperience; your heart never was, never could be concerned in it.

_Mrs. H._ Oh! spare me! My conscience never martyrs me so horribly, as when I catch my base thoughts in search of an excuse! No, nothing can palliate my guilt; and the only just consolation left me, is, to acquit the man I wronged, and own I erred without a cause of fair complaint.

_Countess._ And this is the mark of true repentance. Alas! my friend, when superior sense, recommended too by superior charms of person, a.s.sail a young, though wedded--

_Mrs. H._ Ah! not even that mean excuse is left me. In all that merits admiration, respect, and love, he was far, far beneath my husband. But to attempt to account for my strange infatuation--I cannot bear it. I thought my husband's manner grew colder to me. 'Tis true I knew, that his expenses, and his confidence in deceitful friends, had embarra.s.sed his means, and clouded his spirits; yet I thought he denied me pleasures and amus.e.m.e.nts still within our reach. My vanity was mortified! My confidence not courted. The serpent tongue of my seducer promised every thing. But never could such arguments avail, till, a.s.sisted by forged letters, and the treachery of a servant, whom I most confided in, he fixed my belief that my lord was false, and that all the coldness I complained of was disgust to me, and love for another; all his home retrenchments but the means of satisfying a rival's luxury. Maddened with this conviction, (conviction it was, for artifice was most ingenious in its proof,) I left my children--father--husband--to follow--a villain.