The Last Man

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by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley


  CHAPTER V.

  WHEN we arrived at Windsor, I found that Raymond and Perdita had departedfor the continent. I took possession of my sister's cottage, and blessedmyself that I lived within view of Windsor Castle. It was a curious fact,that at this period, when by the marriage of Perdita I was allied to one ofthe richest individuals in England, and was bound by the most intimatefriendship to its chiefest noble, I experienced the greatest excess ofpoverty that I had ever known. My knowledge of the worldly principles ofLord Raymond, would have ever prevented me from applying to him, howeverdeep my distress might have been. It was in vain that I repeated to myselfwith regard to Adrian, that his purse was open to me; that one in soul, aswe were, our fortunes ought also to be common. I could never, while withhim, think of his bounty as a remedy to my poverty; and I even put asidehastily his offers of supplies, assuring him of a falsehood, that I neededthem not. How could I say to this generous being, "Maintain me in idleness.You who have dedicated your powers of mind and fortune to the benefit ofyour species, shall you so misdirect your exertions, as to support inuselessness the strong, healthy, and capable?"

  And yet I dared not request him to use his influence that I might obtain anhonourable provision for myself--for then I should have been obliged toleave Windsor. I hovered for ever around the walls of its Castle, beneathits enshadowing thickets; my sole companions were my books and my lovingthoughts. I studied the wisdom of the ancients, and gazed on the happywalls that sheltered the beloved of my soul. My mind was nevertheless idle.I pored over the poetry of old times; I studied the metaphysics of Platoand Berkeley. I read the histories of Greece and Rome, and of England'sformer periods, and I watched the movements of the lady of my heart. Atnight I could see her shadow on the walls of her apartment; by day I viewedher in her flower-garden, or riding in the park with her usual companions.Methought the charm would be broken if I were seen, but I heard the musicof her voice and was happy. I gave to each heroine of whom I read, herbeauty and matchless excellences--such was Antigone, when she guided theblind Oedipus to the grove of the Eumenides, and discharged the funeralrites of Polynices; such was Miranda in the unvisited cave of Prospero;such Haidee, on the sands of the Ionian island. I was mad with excess ofpassionate devotion; but pride, tameless as fire, invested my nature, andprevented me from betraying myself by word or look.

  In the mean time, while I thus pampered myself with rich mental repasts, apeasant would have disdained my scanty fare, which I sometimes robbed fromthe squirrels of the forest. I was, I own, often tempted to recur to thelawless feats of my boy-hood, and knock down the almost tame pheasants thatperched upon the trees, and bent their bright eyes on me. But they were theproperty of Adrian, the nurslings of Idris; and so, although my imaginationrendered sensual by privation, made me think that they would better becomethe spit in my kitchen, than the green leaves of the forest,

  Nathelesse, I checked my haughty will, and did not eat;

  but supped upon sentiment, and dreamt vainly of "such morsels sweet," asI might not waking attain.

  But, at this period, the whole scheme of my existence was about to change.The orphan and neglected son of Verney, was on the eve of being linked tothe mechanism of society by a golden chain, and to enter into all theduties and affections of life. Miracles were to be wrought in my favour,the machine of social life pushed with vast effort backward. Attend, Oreader! while I narrate this tale of wonders!

  One day as Adrian and Idris were riding through the forest, with theirmother and accustomed companions, Idris, drawing her brother aside from therest of the cavalcade, suddenly asked him, "What had become of his friend,Lionel Verney?"

  "Even from this spot," replied Adrian, pointing to my sister's cottage,"you can see his dwelling."

  "Indeed!" said Idris, "and why, if he be so near, does he not come to seeus, and make one of our society?"

  "I often visit him," replied Adrian; "but you may easily guess the motives,which prevent him from coming where his presence may annoy any one amongus."

  "I do guess them," said Idris, "and such as they are, I would notventure to combat them. Tell me, however, in what way he passes his time;what he is doing and thinking in his cottage retreat?"

  "Nay, my sweet sister," replied Adrian, "you ask me more than I can wellanswer; but if you feel interest in him, why not visit him? He will feelhighly honoured, and thus you may repay a part of the obligation I owe him,and compensate for the injuries fortune has done him."

  "I will most readily accompany you to his abode," said the lady, "not thatI wish that either of us should unburthen ourselves of our debt, which,being no less than your life, must remain unpayable ever. But let us go;to-morrow we will arrange to ride out together, and proceeding towards thatpart of the forest, call upon him."

  The next evening therefore, though the autumnal change had brought on coldand rain, Adrian and Idris entered my cottage. They found me Curius-like,feasting on sorry fruits for supper; but they brought gifts richer than thegolden bribes of the Sabines, nor could I refuse the invaluable store offriendship and delight which they bestowed. Surely the glorious twins ofLatona were not more welcome, when, in the infancy of the world, they werebrought forth to beautify and enlighten this "sterile promontory," thanwere this angelic pair to my lowly dwelling and grateful heart. We sat likeone family round my hearth. Our talk was on subjects, unconnected with theemotions that evidently occupied each; but we each divined the other'sthought, and as our voices spoke of indifferent matters, our eyes, in mutelanguage, told a thousand things no tongue could have uttered.

  They left me in an hour's time. They left me happy--how unspeakablyhappy. It did not require the measured sounds of human language to syllablethe story of my extasy. Idris had visited me; Idris I should again andagain see--my imagination did not wander beyond the completeness of thisknowledge. I trod air; no doubt, no fear, no hope even, disturbed me; Iclasped with my soul the fulness of contentment, satisfied, undesiring,beatified.

  For many days Adrian and Idris continued to visit me thus. In this dearintercourse, love, in the guise of enthusiastic friendship, infused moreand more of his omnipotent spirit. Idris felt it. Yes, divinity of theworld, I read your characters in her looks and gesture; I heard yourmelodious voice echoed by her--you prepared for us a soft and flowerypath, all gentle thoughts adorned it--your name, O Love, was not spoken,but you stood the Genius of the Hour, veiled, and time, but no mortal hand,might raise the curtain. Organs of articulate sound did not proclaim theunion of our hearts; for untoward circumstance allowed no opportunity forthe expression that hovered on our lips. Oh my pen! haste thou to write whatwas, before the thought of what is, arrests the hand that guides thee. If Ilift up my eyes and see the desart earth, and feel that those dear eyeshave spent their mortal lustre, and that those beauteous lips are silent,their "crimson leaves" faded, for ever I am mute!

  But you live, my Idris, even now you move before me! There was a glade, Oreader! a grassy opening in the wood; the retiring trees left its velvetexpanse as a temple for love; the silver Thames bounded it on one side, anda willow bending down dipt in the water its Naiad hair, dishevelled by thewind's viewless hand. The oaks around were the home of a tribe ofnightingales--there am I now; Idris, in youth's dear prime, is by my side--remember, I am just twenty-two, and seventeen summers have scarcelypassed over the beloved of my heart. The river swollen by autumnal rains,deluged the low lands, and Adrian in his favourite boat is employed in thedangerous pastime of plucking the topmost bough from a submerged oak. Areyou weary of life, O Adrian, that you thus play with danger?--

  He has obtained his prize, and he pilots his boat through the flood; oureyes were fixed on him fearfully, but the stream carried him away from us;he was forced to land far lower down, and to make a considerable circuitbefore he could join us. "He is safe!" said Idris, as he leapt on shore,and waved the bough over his head in token of success; "we will wait forhim here."

  We were alone together; the sun had set; the song of the nightingale
sbegan; the evening star shone distinct in the flood of light, which was yetunfaded in the west. The blue eyes of my angelic girl were fixed on thissweet emblem of herself: "How the light palpitates," she said, "which isthat star's life. Its vacillating effulgence seems to say that its state,even like ours upon earth, is wavering and inconstant; it fears, methinks,and it loves."

  "Gaze not on the star, dear, generous friend," I cried, "read not love inits trembling rays; look not upon distant worlds; speak not of the mereimagination of a sentiment. I have long been silent; long even to sicknesshave I desired to speak to you, and submit my soul, my life, my entirebeing to you. Look not on the star, dear love, or do, and let that eternalspark plead for me; let it be my witness and my advocate, silent as itshines--love is to me as light to the star; even so long as that isuneclipsed by annihilation, so long shall I love you."

  Veiled for ever to the world's callous eye must be the transport of thatmoment. Still do I feel her graceful form press against my full-fraughtheart--still does sight, and pulse, and breath sicken and fail, at theremembrance of that first kiss. Slowly and silently we went to meet Adrian,whom we heard approaching.

  I entreated Adrian to return to me after he had conducted his sister home.And that same evening, walking among the moon-lit forest paths, I pouredforth my whole heart, its transport and its hope, to my friend. For amoment he looked disturbed--"I might have foreseen this," he said, "whatstrife will now ensue! Pardon me, Lionel, nor wonder that the expectationof contest with my mother should jar me, when else I should delightedlyconfess that my best hopes are fulfilled, in confiding my sister to yourprotection. If you do not already know it, you will soon learn the deephate my mother bears to the name Verney. I will converse with Idris; thenall that a friend can do, I will do; to her it must belong to play thelover's part, if she be capable of it."

  While the brother and sister were still hesitating in what manner theycould best attempt to bring their mother over to their party, she,suspecting our meetings, taxed her children with them; taxed her fairdaughter with deceit, and an unbecoming attachment for one whose only meritwas being the son of the profligate favourite of her imprudent father; andwho was doubtless as worthless as he from whom he boasted his descent. Theeyes of Idris flashed at this accusation; she replied, "I do not deny thatI love Verney; prove to me that he is worthless; and I will never see himmore."

  "Dear Madam," said Adrian, "let me entreat you to see him, to cultivate hisfriendship. You will wonder then, as I do, at the extent of hisaccomplishments, and the brilliancy of his talents." (Pardon me, gentlereader, this is not futile vanity;--not futile, since to know that Adrianfelt thus, brings joy even now to my lone heart).

  "Mad and foolish boy!" exclaimed the angry lady, "you have chosen withdreams and theories to overthrow my schemes for your own aggrandizement;but you shall not do the same by those I have formed for your sister. I buttoo well understand the fascination you both labour under; since I had thesame struggle with your father, to make him cast off the parent of thisyouth, who hid his evil propensities with the smoothness and subtlety of aviper. In those days how often did I hear of his attractions, his widespread conquests, his wit, his refined manners. It is well when flies onlyare caught by such spiders' webs; but is it for the high-born and powerfulto bow their necks to the flimsy yoke of these unmeaning pretensions? Wereyour sister indeed the insignificant person she deserves to be, I wouldwillingly leave her to the fate, the wretched fate, of the wife of a man,whose very person, resembling as it does his wretched father, ought toremind you of the folly and vice it typifies--but remember, Lady Idris,it is not alone the once royal blood of England that colours your veins,you are a Princess of Austria, and every life-drop is akin to emperors andkings. Are you then a fit mate for an uneducated shepherd-boy, whose onlyinheritance is his father's tarnished name?"

  "I can make but one defence," replied Idris, "the same offered by mybrother; see Lionel, converse with my shepherd-boy"---The Countessinterrupted her indignantly--"Yours!"--she cried: and then, smoothingher impassioned features to a disdainful smile, she continued--"We willtalk of this another time. All I now ask, all your mother, Idris, requestsis, that you will not see this upstart during the interval of one month."

  "I dare not comply," said Idris, "it would pain him too much. I have noright to play with his feelings, to accept his proffered love, and thensting him with neglect."

  "This is going too far," her mother answered, with quivering lips, and eyesagain instinct by anger.

  "Nay, Madam," said Adrian, "unless my sister consent never to see himagain, it is surely an useless torment to separate them for a month."

  "Certainly," replied the ex-queen, with bitter scorn, "his love, and herlove, and both their childish flutterings, are to be put in fit comparisonwith my years of hope and anxiety, with the duties of the offspring ofkings, with the high and dignified conduct which one of her descent oughtto pursue. But it is unworthy of me to argue and complain. Perhaps you willhave the goodness to promise me not to marry during that interval?"

  This was asked only half ironically; and Idris wondered why her mothershould extort from her a solemn vow not to do, what she had never dreamedof doing--but the promise was required and given.

  All went on cheerfully now; we met as usual, and talked without dread ofour future plans. The Countess was so gentle, and even beyond her wont,amiable with her children, that they began to entertain hopes of herultimate consent. She was too unlike them, too utterly alien to theirtastes, for them to find delight in her society, or in the prospect of itscontinuance, but it gave them pleasure to see her conciliating and kind.Once even, Adrian ventured to propose her receiving me. She refused with asmile, reminding him that for the present his sister had promised to bepatient.

  One day, after the lapse of nearly a month, Adrian received a letter from afriend in London, requesting his immediate presence for the furtherance ofsome important object. Guileless himself, Adrian feared no deceit. I rodewith him as far as Staines: he was in high spirits; and, since I could notsee Idris during his absence, he promised a speedy return. His gaiety,which was extreme, had the strange effect of awakening in me contraryfeelings; a presentiment of evil hung over me; I loitered on my return; Icounted the hours that must elapse before I saw Idris again. Whereforeshould this be? What evil might not happen in the mean time? Might not hermother take advantage of Adrian's absence to urge her beyond hersufferance, perhaps to entrap her? I resolved, let what would befall, tosee and converse with her the following day. This determination soothed me.To-morrow, loveliest and best, hope and joy of my life, to-morrow I willsee thee--Fool, to dream of a moment's delay!

  I went to rest. At past midnight I was awaked by a violent knocking. It wasnow deep winter; it had snowed, and was still snowing; the wind whistled inthe leafless trees, despoiling them of the white flakes as they fell; itsdrear moaning, and the continued knocking, mingled wildly with my dreams--at length I was wide awake; hastily dressing myself, I hurried to discoverthe cause of this disturbance, and to open my door to the unexpectedvisitor. Pale as the snow that showered about her, with clasped hands,Idris stood before me. "Save me!" she exclaimed, and would have sunk to theground had I not supported her. In a moment however she revived, and, withenergy, almost with violence, entreated me to saddle horses, to take heraway, away to London--to her brother--at least to save her. I had nohorses--she wrung her hands. "What can I do?" she cried, "I am lost--weare both for ever lost! But come--come with me, Lionel; here I must notstay,--we can get a chaise at the nearest post-house; yet perhaps we havetime! come, O come with me to save and protect me!"

  When I heard her piteous demands, while with disordered dress, dishevelledhair, and aghast looks, she wrung her hands--the idea shot across me isshe also mad?--"Sweet one," and I folded her to my heart, "better reposethan wander further;--rest--my beloved, I will make a fire--you arechill."

  "Rest!" she cried, "repose! you rave, Lionel! If you delay we are lost;come, I pray you, unless you would c
ast me off for ever."

  That Idris, the princely born, nursling of wealth and luxury, should havecome through the tempestuous winter-night from her regal abode, andstanding at my lowly door, conjure me to fly with her through darkness andstorm--was surely a dream--again her plaintive tones, the sight of herloveliness assured me that it was no vision. Looking timidly around, as ifshe feared to be overheard, she whispered: "I have discovered--to-morrow--that is, to-day--already the to-morrow is come--before dawn,foreigners, Austrians, my mother's hirelings, are to carry me off toGermany, to prison, to marriage--to anything, except you and my brother--take me away, or soon they will be here!"

  I was frightened by her vehemence, and imagined some mistake in herincoherent tale; but I no longer hesitated to obey her. She had come byherself from the Castle, three long miles, at midnight, through the heavysnow; we must reach Englefield Green, a mile and a half further, before wecould obtain a chaise. She told me, that she had kept up her strength andcourage till her arrival at my cottage, and then both failed. Now she couldhardly walk. Supporting her as I did, still she lagged: and at the distanceof half a mile, after many stoppages, shivering fits, and half faintings,she slipt from my supporting arm on the snow, and with a torrent of tearsaverred that she must be taken, for that she could not proceed. I liftedher up in my arms; her light form rested on my breast.--I felt noburthen, except the internal one of contrary and contending emotions.Brimming delight now invested me. Again her chill limbs touched me as atorpedo; and I shuddered in sympathy with her pain and fright. Her head layon my shoulder, her breath waved my hair, her heart beat near mine,transport made me tremble, blinded me, annihilated me--till a suppressedgroan, bursting from her lips, the chattering of her teeth, which shestrove vainly to subdue, and all the signs of suffering she evinced,recalled me to the necessity of speed and succour. At last I said to her,"There is Englefield Green; there the inn. But, if you are seen thusstrangely circumstanced, dear Idris, even now your enemies may learn yourflight too soon: were it not better that I hired the chaise alone? I willput you in safety meanwhile, and return to you immediately."

  She answered that I was right, and might do with her as I pleased. Iobserved the door of a small out-house a-jar. I pushed it open; and, withsome hay strewed about, I formed a couch for her, placing her exhaustedframe on it, and covering her with my cloak. I feared to leave her, shelooked so wan and faint--but in a moment she re-acquired animation, and,with that, fear; and again she implored me not to delay. To call up thepeople of the inn, and obtain a conveyance and horses, even though Iharnessed them myself, was the work of many minutes; minutes, eachfreighted with the weight of ages. I caused the chaise to advance a little,waited till the people of the inn had retired, and then made the post-boydraw up the carriage to the spot where Idris, impatient, and now somewhatrecovered, stood waiting for me. I lifted her into the chaise; I assuredher that with our four horses we should arrive in London before fiveo'clock, the hour when she would be sought and missed. I besought her tocalm herself; a kindly shower of tears relieved her, and by degrees sherelated her tale of fear and peril.

  That same night after Adrian's departure, her mother had warmlyexpostulated with her on the subject of her attachment to me. Every motive,every threat, every angry taunt was urged in vain. She seemed to considerthat through me she had lost Raymond; I was the evil influence of her life;I was even accused of encreasing and confirming the mad and base apostacyof Adrian from all views of advancement and grandeur; and now thismiserable mountaineer was to steal her daughter. Never, Idris related, didthe angry lady deign to recur to gentleness and persuasion; if she had, thetask of resistance would have been exquisitely painful. As it was, thesweet girl's generous nature was roused to defend, and ally herself with,my despised cause. Her mother ended with a look of contempt and coverttriumph, which for a moment awakened the suspicions of Idris. When theyparted for the night, the Countess said, "To-morrow I trust your tone willbe changed: be composed; I have agitated you; go to rest; and I will sendyou a medicine I always take when unduly restless--it will give you aquiet night."

  By the time that she had with uneasy thoughts laid her fair cheek upon herpillow, her mother's servant brought a draught; a suspicion again crossedher at this novel proceeding, sufficiently alarming to determine her not totake the potion; but dislike of contention, and a wish to discover whetherthere was any just foundation for her conjectures, made her, she said,almost instinctively, and in contradiction to her usual frankness, pretendto swallow the medicine. Then, agitated as she had been by her mother'sviolence, and now by unaccustomed fears, she lay unable to sleep, startingat every sound. Soon her door opened softly, and on her springing up, sheheard a whisper, "Not asleep yet," and the door again closed. With abeating heart she expected another visit, and when after an interval herchamber was again invaded, having first assured herself that the intruderswere her mother and an attendant, she composed herself to feigned sleep. Astep approached her bed, she dared not move, she strove to calm herpalpitations, which became more violent, when she heard her mother saymutteringly, "Pretty simpleton, little do you think that your game isalready at an end for ever."

  For a moment the poor girl fancied that her mother believed that she haddrank poison: she was on the point of springing up; when the Countess,already at a distance from the bed, spoke in a low voice to her companion,and again Idris listened: "Hasten," said she, "there is no time to lose--it is long past eleven; they will be here at five; take merely the clothesnecessary for her journey, and her jewel-casket." The servant obeyed; fewwords were spoken on either side; but those were caught at with avidity bythe intended victim. She heard the name of her own maid mentioned;--"No,no," replied her mother, "she does not go with us; Lady Idris must forgetEngland, and all belonging to it." And again she heard, "She will not waketill late to-morrow, and we shall then be at sea."----"All is ready," atlength the woman announced. The Countess again came to her daughter'sbedside: "In Austria at least," she said, "you will obey. In Austria, whereobedience can be enforced, and no choice left but between an honourableprison and a fitting marriage."

  Both then withdrew; though, as she went, the Countess said, "Softly; allsleep; though all have not been prepared for sleep, like her. I would nothave any one suspect, or she might be roused to resistance, and perhapsescape. Come with me to my room; we will remain there till the hour agreedupon." They went. Idris, panic-struck, but animated and strengthened evenby her excessive fear, dressed herself hurriedly, and going down a flightof back-stairs, avoiding the vicinity of her mother's apartment, shecontrived to escape from the castle by a low window, and came through snow,wind, and obscurity to my cottage; nor lost her courage, until she arrived,and, depositing her fate in my hands, gave herself up to the desperationand weariness that overwhelmed her.

  I comforted her as well as I might. Joy and exultation, were mine, topossess, and to save her. Yet not to excite fresh agitation in her, "pernon turbar quel bel viso sereno," I curbed my delight. I strove to quietthe eager dancing of my heart; I turned from her my eyes, beaming with toomuch tenderness, and proudly, to dark night, and the inclement atmosphere,murmured the expressions of my transport. We reached London, methought, alltoo soon; and yet I could not regret our speedy arrival, when I witnessedthe extasy with which my beloved girl found herself in her brother's arms,safe from every evil, under his unblamed protection.

  Adrian wrote a brief note to his mother, informing her that Idris was underhis care and guardianship. Several days elapsed, and at last an answercame, dated from Cologne. "It was useless," the haughty and disappointedlady wrote, "for the Earl of Windsor and his sister to address again theinjured parent, whose only expectation of tranquillity must be derived fromoblivion of their existence. Her desires had been blasted, her schemesoverthrown. She did not complain; in her brother's court she would find,not compensation for their disobedience (filial unkindness admitted ofnone), but such a state of things and mode of life, as might best reconcileher to her fate. Under such circumst
ances, she positively declined anycommunication with them."

  Such were the strange and incredible events, that finally brought about myunion with the sister of my best friend, with my adored Idris. Withsimplicity and courage she set aside the prejudices and opposition whichwere obstacles to my happiness, nor scrupled to give her hand, where shehad given her heart. To be worthy of her, to raise myself to her heightthrough the exertion of talents and virtue, to repay her love with devoted,unwearied tenderness, were the only thanks I could offer for the matchlessgift.

 

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