Pages

Julia de Roubigne f the wife of Mon* tauban!—Is it not fo ?

'W

I have had time to think.—Yoii will rccoUedt the circumftances ef bur marriage—her long unwillingnefs, her almolt

uncon-

r

*N

• unconquerable rcluftance*—Why did I

marry her ?

Let me remember—1 durik not truft

the honeft decifion of my friend, but

ftole into this engagement without his

knowledge; I purchafed her confcnt, I bribed, 1 bought her; bought her, the

leavings of another!—I will trice this line

of infamy no further: there is madnelk i» it!

Segarva, I am afraicj to hear from you-, yet write to nie^ write to me freely. If you hold raejuftly puniflied—^yct fpare me, when you think on' the fcvcrity of my puniihmen

G 6

*3* Julia de roubicneV

LETTER XL.

Montauban to Segarva.

T ONQUILLEZ has not flcpt on his poll^ and chance has afiifted his vi^ gilance. Le Blanc came hitherthe morn-ing after our converfation; Lonquillez managed his enquiry with equal acute* nefs and caution: the other told every thing as the ftory of an old* man—

he fmiled and told it. He knew not that he was delivering the teftimony of a wit-nefs—that the fate of hb former miftrc6 hung on it t

This Sayilbn lived at Betville from

his carlieft youth, the companion of JUf-

lia, though a dependant on her father^ When they, were forced to remove thence^ he accompanied their retreat,^ the onljr companion of Roubigpe, whom advet-fity had left him. to comfort it—but he had his reward: the company of the daughter often fupplied the place of her father's. He was her mailer in litera? ture, her . fellow^fcholar in mufib and painting, and they frequently planned nwlks in coneert,-

which, they afterwards

V,

trod together*;—Le Blanc has feen them there, liftening to the fong of the nig^-ingale«—

I am to df aw tKfe conclufibn.—AlF this might be innocent, the tSt6c^ of early intimacy and frienddfip; and on this fuppofition might reft the quiet of an ifidiflferent hufband. But why was this

intimacy.

134 JULIA D» ROUBIGNE^

intlrtiacf, this fricndfliip, fo induftriouflj: concealed from itic ? The name of Sa^-VUlon heVcr mehtioned, except in guilty dreams ?

while his piflure was kept in her chamber for the adultery of the ima«

gination!—Do t triumph while I puQi this evidence ?—^egarva I whither ifrill it lead me?

Tht truth rifts tipon me^ and every (Mcbtding ckcumftancb points to ent coiiclufioij. Lifcttfe ^as t(*-d^y df ^ joiiu ketting party, which LonquiHez contrived for the entertainment of his friend* Le Blanc.

Mention was again made of old (lories, and Savillon was a perfon of the drama. The wench is naturally talkative, and Jhe was then in fpirits from company and good cheer. Le Blanc and fte

flit recollefted interviews of tteir yoiing riiiftrefs and this handfdme eleve of her father. They were, it feems, nurfed by the fame Woman, that old Lafune, for whom Julia procured a Kttle dwelling, and a penfion of four hundred liVres, from her unfufpefting hufband. " She loved them (faid Le Blanc) like her own children, and they were like brother and fitter to each other/* —*" Brother and lifter,, indeed!'*

(faid Lifette.) She was more fagacious, and had obfcrved things bcttcT.—" I know what I know, (faid (he) but, to be fare, thofe things are all oVer now, and, I am perfuadcd, my miftreft loves «no man fo well as her own hufband* What fignifies what happened fo long agO|

efpccially while Monf. de Montauban knows nothing about the matter ?**

R Thcfe

X^6 JU4JA DE ROUBiaNE^'

Thcfc were her words : Loaquillez rc» geatcd them thrice to me.—

Were 1 a-fool, adriveller^. I might be fatisfied ta doubt and be uneafy; it is Montauban's. to fee his difgrace,, and,, feeing, to re«-

venge it.

ILonquillez has been with me: his^ diligence is indefatigable;: but he feels for the honour of his maftcr, ,and, being a Spaniard, is entitled to fhare iu

He went with Le Blinc to fee Lafune,. whom that old man, it fcems, never faili to vifit when he is hcrc^ Lonquillez told her^ that Le B}anc had news for-her about her fofter-fon. "-Of my dear Sa« villon

?** cried fhc. « Tes (faid Le Blanc), You will have heard, that he arrived:

JULIA DE ROUBIGNE. -I37

arrived from abroad fome weeks ago; -and I am told, that he is worth a power of moaey, which his uncle left him in the Weft-Indies."—«

Blefs him! Heavens

blcfs him ! (cried Lafunc.) Then I may fee him once more before 1

die. You never faw him, (turning to Lonquillez) but Le Blanc remembers him well: the handfomeft, fweeteft, beft conditioned—^

your miftrefs and he have often fat on that bench there—Lord pity my forget-fulncfs !—it was far from this place; but

it -was juft fuch a bench—and they would prefer poor Lafune*s little treat to all the fine things at my mafter's—and how he would look on my fweet child!—Well, well^ deftiny rules every thing; but there was

a time, when I thought I Ihould have called her by another name than Montauban."—Lonquillez was too much

ftruck

138 JULIA DB ROUSIGNe/.

ft ruck with her words to appear unafie&ed by them : ihe obferved his furprife.— ** You think no harm» I hope/' faid flie# He affured her he did not* "Nay, I need not care, for that part, who hears mcj yet fome folks might chink it odd > but we are all friends here, as we may fay, and neither of you, I knoW) are tale-bearers, otherwifc I ftiouW not prat-* tie as I do 5 efpecially, as the laft time I faw my lady, when I afked after her fdfter-brother, flie told ttie, I nluft rioc fpeak of him now, nor talk of the meetings they ufeid to have at my houfe.**

Such were her words j the memory of Lonquitlfez is faithful, and he was in^tc<-irefted to remember.—f drew my breath Ihort, and muttered vengeance : the good fellow law my warmth, and tried to moderate

derate it. *' It is a matter^ Sir, (faid he) of fuch importance, that, if I may pre-fume to advife, nothing (heuld be believ* cd ralhly. If my miftrefs loves Savillon, if he Aill anfwers her fdndnefs, they will furely write to each other. I commonly take charge of the letters for the poft: if you can find any proo/that way, it cannot lie nor deceive you,*'

I have agreed to his prbpbfal.—How im i fallen, Scgarva, when fuch arti^ fices are eafy to me!—But t will not paufe on .trivial objeaions—

the fate of Montauban is fet upon this call, and the lelier moralities muft fpeak unheeded.

140 JULIA DE^ ROUBIGNE^

LETTER XLL

Mentauhan to Segarva.

T T is fbmething to be fatisfied of the worft. I have now fuch proof, Segarva! —Enquiry is at an end, and vengeance the Only bufinefs I have left. Before you can anfwer this—the infamy of your friend cannot be erafed^. but it fhall b^ waOiedin blood I Lonquillez has juft brought me a letter from my wife to a Mademoifelle de Ron^^ cilles, a bofom^fricnd of hers at Paris,..

He opened it, by a very Gmplc operation,, without hurting its appearance. It-con-» Cited only of a few hurried.lines,, defir*-

ing her to deliver an enclofed letter to Savillon, and to take charge of his an« fwen-r-That letter now lies before me.— Read it, Segarva—

thou wilt wilh to ftab her while thou read'fl; it—but Montauban has a dagger too,

** I know not. Sir, how to anfwer the ** letter my friend Mademoifelle de Ron* ** cillcs has juft fent me from you. The **

intimacy qf our former Jays IJiill recall as ** one of the happieji periods of my life. The " friendfhip of Julia you are certainly (till **

entitled to, and might claim, without " the fufpicion of impropriety, though fate

" has now thrown her into /i&^ arms of an*

•* other. There would then be no occafion

*« for this fccret interview, which, I cor>

** fefs, I cannot help dreading; but, as " you urge theimpoffibilityof yourvifiting

^ *^ Monf.

142. JULIA DE KOUBIGNE'.

♦« Monf. deMontauban, without betraying •• sm^tionsy

^ch^youfayy would ^ danger-** ous to the feace of us all^ conjured

as I ana ♦» by thofe motives of compaffioiig which #« aiy heart is, perhaps, but too fufceptiblc ** of for my own peace, I have at laft, noi

" without a feeling like remorfe^ refolved to «* meet you on Monday next, at the houfc ♦< of our old nurfc Lafunc, whom I Jball ^^

prepare for thepurpofe^ and on whofefide* ** % 1 can perfeStly rely.

I hope you will « give me credit for that remembrance of f* Savillon, which your letter, rather un-•«juftljr, denies me, when you find me

** agreeing to this meafure of impradence, « of danger, // may he of guilty to mitigate «the diftrefs, which I have be^ upfortu-" natc enough to give him.**

J f(?el .4t this moment a fprt of ^et^r-mined fooltrqfsi, w|iich^tbc bcn4iQg Vf of my miod to the revenge her orits^B deferve, has conferred upon me ^ I have therefore underlined * fome paf^'^s m t\m 4amued fcroU, th^myfrieod may fee the weight of that fNx^pf on which I pfocfied. Mark the air of prudery th^t run$ through it|

the trick of volqpt^jpus vice to give plcafure the zeft of m^fity and rcludance. " It may be of gUilt/*-— Mark with what coplqpfs ihe Im'm^ him .to .participate. k!-!-l5 this the handrwrit-ij9g of Julia ?-

rrI ^m AWiftke and fee it.«m <—Juli^! my Wife 1 damnation!

♦ The paflages here alluded to arc printed in//«//>/.

1 have

144 JtfLIA DB ROUBICN£^

I have been vifiting this Lafune, whofc houfe is deftined for the fcene of my life's interview with her gallant. I feel the meannefs of an inquifition, that degrades me into the wretched fpy on an abandoned woman.—I bluflied and he-iitated while I talked to this old doating minifter of their pleafures. But the mo-ment comes when I (hall refume myfelf, when I (hall burft upon them in the terrors ofpunilhment.

Whether they 4ave really impofed on

the fimplicity of this creature, I know

not; but her anfwers to fome diftant queftions of mine/looked not like thofe

of an accomplice of their guilt.—Or, ra-

ther, it is I who am deceived i the cun*

nins

ning of intrigue is the property of the

meaneft among the fex,—It matters not: I have proof without her.

«

She conduced me into an inner room fitted up with a degree of nicety". On one fide ftood a bed, with curtains and a bed-cover of clean cotton. That bed,

Segarva!—but this heart Ihall down; I will be calm—4it ^tl^ time, while I ilooked on it, I could not 5 tJie old wo-i^m^ olpferved.my emotion^ .-^nd ;^fked if \ was ill; I recoverjed myfeif hOAvever, ^d

>ihe fufpedled opj-hing; I tt^ink fhp .^id not-cr-It looked ^s if ;the Beldame ha4 trimmed.it for their ufe-r^d^mn her*! damn her!

killing is poor—Canft thou

not invent me fome luxurious vengeance ?

Vol* II. H Lon-

146 JULIA DE ROUBIGNE'.

Lonquillez has re-fealed and fent off her letter to Savillon; he will take care to bring me the anfwer: but I know the anfwer—"On Monday next"—why fhould I ftart as I think on it ? —^Their fate is fixed 1 mine perhaps—but I will think jno more.—Farewell.

^M«

Rouillc is juft arrived here 5 I could have wifhed him abfent now. He can* not participate my wrongs 5 they are fa-cred to more determined fouls*—Mc-thinksy at this time, I hate his fmiles; they fuit not the purpofes of Montauban.

JUIIA DE ROUBIGNE. 147

LETTER XLIL

Julia io Maria.

T Hope, from the conveyance which Lifette has procured for this letter, it may reach you nearly as Coon, as that in which I inclofed one for Savillon. If it comes in time, let it prevent your delivering that letter. I have been confider* ing of this interview again, and I feel a fort of crime in it towards my hufband, which 1 dare not venture on. I have trefpafled too much againd: (incerity already, in concealing from him my former, attachment to that unfortunate young man. So flrongly indeed did this idea ftrike me, that 1 was prepared to tell ic H 2 him

148 JULIA D£ ROUBIGNE'.

him this very day, when he returned from riding, and found me fcarce recovered from the emotion which a reperufal of Savillon*s letter had caufcd; but his look had a fternnefs in it, fo oppofite to thofe feelings which (hould have opened the bofom cf your di(lra£ted Julia, that I flirunk back into fccrefy, terrified at the refledlion on my own purpofe.—^Why am I the wife of this man ? but if confidence and tendernefs are not mine to give, there is a duty which is not mine to refufe.-*-Tcll Savillon, I cannot fee him.

Not in the way he afks—let him come as the friend of Julia de Roubigne—Oh ! Maria! what a pi«5lure do thefe wordls recal! the friend of Julia de Roubigne ! ~-in thofe happy days when it was not guilt to fee, to hear, to think of him—

when

JULIA DE ROUBIGNE^ I49

yAhen this poor heart was inconfcious. of its little wanderings, or felt them but as harmlefs dreams,' which fweetened the real ills of a life too early vifited by^ misfortune !

. When I loolc- back on that life, hew £|t^ful hg$ it been! Is it unjufl: in.Pn>« videAce^ to make this fa often the lot of hearts little able to (trug^e with misfor* tyne? or is it indeed the poffeffion of fuch hearts,, that creates- their misfor*. tunes ? Had I not felt as I have do^e, half the ills I complain of had been no-tbing, and ac this moment I were happy. Yet to have wanted fuch-a^ heart, ill-fuk-ed as it is to the rude toueh of fublunary ' things—I tJiink I cannot wifli fo rnuch^ There will" come a time, Maria*, (might I forebode without your cenfura, I Ihould

fay it may not be diftant) when they (ball wound it no longer!

In truth, I am every way weak at pre* frnt. My poor father adds much to my diftreflcs: he has appeared, for fome time pad, to be verging towards a ftate, which alone I Ihould think worfe than his death.

His affedion for me is the only fenfe now quite alive about him, nay it too par-takes of imbecillity. He ufed to embrace me with ardour ^ he now embraces me with tears.

Judge then, if I am able to meet Sa* villon at this time, if I could allow my-felf to -meet him at all. Think what I am, and what he is.

The coolncfs T ought to maintain had been difficult at beft; at prcfent, it is impoffible. I can

fcarce

JULIA DE R0UBIGKB\ IJI

fcarce think without weeping ', . and to fee that form—^

Maria ! when this pifturc was drawn f •^I remember the time well—

my father was at PariSy and Savillon left with my mother and me at Belville. The painter (who Wi*s accidentally in our province) came

thither to give me a few lefibns of drawing* Savillon was already a tole« rable defigner •, but he joined with me in becoming fcholar to this man. When our mafter was with us, he ufed fome* times to guide my hand; when he was gone, at our pradice of his inftruftions, Savillon commonly fupplied his place. But Savillon's hand was not like the other's; I felt fomething from its touch, not the lefs delightful from carrying a fare

I^i JULIA DS RtfUBlGNE'.

of fear along with tHat delight: it was like a pulfe in the foul!—•

Whither am I wandering ? What now are thofe fcenes to me, and why fhould I wiih to remember them ? Am I n«t another's, irrevocably another's ?—Sa-villon knows I am.—1-et him not wilh to fee me; we cannot recal the paft, and* wherefore, wherefore Ihouid we add to the evils oftheprdfent?

JUtIA DB. "KQVBtGUtt !■£%

LETTER XLIII.

Montauhan to Stgarva.

T HAVE miffed fome link of my intcf^ Kgence; for the day is paft, and nor ai^fwcr from Savitton is arrived. I thank him, whatever be the reafon*, for he has give» me time to receive the iuftrudtionsi. fjf my friend*

Yau caution me well as to^the certainty^ of he^gttittr You know the proof I have already acquired; but'! will have affu-fiance beyond'the poffrbHity of doubt: E irill wait their very meeting, before I ftrikc this blow, and my vengeance, like

H 5 thai:

154 JtlLIA BE ROUBIGN£\

that of Heaven, fliall be juftified by a repetition ot her crimes.

I ani lefs eafily convinced, or rather I am lefs willing to be guided, by your opinion, as to the fecrefy of her punifh-ment. You tell me, that there is bur one expiation of a wife's infidelity.—J am refolved, (he dies—but that the fa-crifice (hould be fecret. Were I even to Vpbraid her with her crime, you fay, her tears, her proteftations would outplead the convi&ion of fenfe itfelf, and I (hould become the dupe of that infamy I am bound to puni(h«—Is there not ibmething like guilt in this fecrefy ? Should Mon« tauban (brink, like a coward, from the vindication of his honour ?—Should he oot burft upon this (trumpet and her

lover

t

lover—*the pifturc is bcaftly—the fword of Montauban!—thou art in the rights it would difgrace it.—Let mc read your letter again.

I am a fool to be fo moved—but your letter has given me back myftlf.

" The difgrace is only publilhed by an open revenge : it can be buried with the guilty by a fecret one."—I am yours, Segarva, and you fhall guide me.

Chance has been kind to me for the means. Once, in Andalufia, I met with a Venetian empiric, of whom, among other chymical curiofiti^, I bought a poiibnous drug, the efficacy of which he ihewed me on fbme animals to whonv he adminiftered it. The death it gave waA H6 cafy^

156 }VhlK DB ROtJBICIN^B^.

idff^ and idterisd not the appeahnAce of t6e ttiirig' it kitted.

n •

I have fetched it frcmi mf eabkiet^ and it ftands before me. It is contained in a little fquare phiaU marked with fome KcrO^y^tte fcra^vfei #hitih I d(f rtW on-dWftand. PWfethilikSi wfiilerrioofc

onit^ I eotild be \Kfzk^ yttf ^e^k^ Segai'va'.-*-iut an MoUf ago f fa^

Kei' \*^aik, atid fpeak, and' ftriil6—y^ct tliefe ife^ drbpS !-^ I will look on it Ao tflOfe.—

I ktfar the tretel of her feet in the a{Sart-ihent above. Did Ae know what ptflea in my mind!*^Ae ftudy ki whielt tfk fee'nls th& cave of a demon! I

tonquillez' has relieved ittd ^g^irf. HSe

has thi* rtioMtit got frorfi fiei^ ittaid die fol.

J0LIA DB RCWBIGNE'. t^y(

Mlovmg letttVy^ addrcflfed ^ h€r Mend

MadenfioHeUe de Roiletlks!. What a^ fax* it k! but' I have heafd of th^ijf aUka€4» of intrigue»-^It is not that thefe thingsi ara uneomMony hut ^t Mentauban^ is>

a- fi9©l----ihu{fewld-*'a^-*-^-'I)e^ fciio^

her!

4-*«itaMi'

* Is my friend too leagued ag^inft me ?

* Alas! my virtue was too feeble before,

* and needed not the addition of Maria's ^ arguments to be overcome. Savillon's

* figure, you fay, aided by that languid

* palenefs, which his Fate ilTnefs had givtn

* it, was irrefiftible.—Why is not Julia ^fick? — yet, wretched a^ flie is", irrc-

* trievably wretched, flie breathes, and

* -./alks, and fpcaks", aa-fhcdid in hcrmoft

* happy days! rrrr

* Yoa

158 JtfLIA D£ R0UBI6N£^

* You intreat me, for pity's fake^ tonieet

* him.-^** He hinted his delign of foon

* leaving France to return to Martinique.'

* I—Why did he ever leave France ? Had ^ he remained contented with love and ^ Julia, inftead of this ftolen, this guilty « meeting—

^What do I fay ?—I live but ^ for Montauban!

«I will think no longen—This one < time I will filence the monitor within me. « --*Tell him, I will meet him* On Thurf-«day next, let him be at Lafune's in the ^ evening: it will be dark by fix.

< I dare not read what I have written* ? FarcweU/

It will be dark by fix.—Yet I will keep my word, Segarv^! they Ihall meet, that certainty may precede my vengeance; but, when they part, they part to meet no more. Lonquillez^s fidelity I know: his foul is not that of a fervant: he Ihall provide for Savillon. Julia is a vidlim above him—Julia ihall be the charge of his matter.

Farewell! when I write again, it Ihalt not be to threatecu t6o JU£IA DE lOUMGNE^

LETTER XLIV.

SdtriBM ta Hcrhrt.

A FTER an interval of torture, Lhavc

at \zSt received an anfwer from Ma-

dame de Montauban—Have I lived ta

write that name!—but it is fit that I be

calnK

II Her friend has communicated" her re*

folution of allowing me to fee her in the houfe of that good Lafune, whom I have mentioned to you in fome of our con-verfations, as the common nurfe of both. Were it not madnefs to look back, and that, at prcfent, I need the full poflef-fion of myfclf, the idea of Lafune's houfe

would

would recal fuch things—^*—but tbcy arc paft, never, never to return

!

I have recovercd'and can go on calmly. r fct out to-morrow morning

•, Thurfday^ next is the day fh^ has appointed for our interview. I have but to difpatch this o^e great budnefs,* and then depart from^

itay native country for ever. Every tie that bound me to this world is'

noi\?* broken, esrcdpt that which acciderit gave' nftfe in your ffiendfliip : before I croft thcr Atlantic, I would once more fee my Herbert; when I have indulged myfelf in

that lafli throb of affeftion, which our

friendlhip demands at psartihg, there re--

'maiiis nothing for rtit to do, but to

fhrink up from all the. fedings of

life.

lifct s^nd ^^ forward, without emotion, to its- clofc!

^fUm

I feel, at this moment, as if I were oq my death-bed, the neceflity of a manly compofure } that ftifled figh was the laft fiicrifice of my weakncfs! I am now thinking what I have to do with the hours that remain: meet me like a man, and help me to employ them as I ought.

No« thing &all drag me back to Europe, and therefore I would Ibake off every occafion to revilit it»

Though the externals .of place and dif-tance are not of much importance to me, yet there is fomething iif large towns that I ViriQi to avoid. As you mention a de-figa

JOLIA DE ROITBICNE/ I^J

iign of being in Dorfet(bire fometime foon, may I afk you to make next week that time, and meet me at the town of Poole in that county

? Inconfiderable and unknown as I am, there are circum* fiances that might mark me out in Picar* dy; and therefore I ihall go by Dieppe to that port of England, where I know I fliall, at this feafon, find an opportunity of getting over the Atlantic.

I inclofe a letter to a merchant in Lon-don, relating to fome bufiinefs, in which my uncle was concerned with the houfe». of which he is a partner. Be fo kind as forward it, and let him know, that I de-fire the anfwer may be committed to your care. As I fee, by his correfpondence, that he is not altogether a man of bufinefs, he may perhaps be defiroua

V64» JVI.IA Die ROUBIGNB^

of meeting with you^ to alk fomc qucf-tions about the nephew erf*

his old ac-quaintante. He wiH wonder, as others ^ilU at fo rich a man returning to Mar-tiflique. If a reafon is neceflary, invent fome

one-, it is peculiar to mifery like mine to be incapable of being told.-

—! Ikall relapfe, if I continue to write.—» Yoa wilU if it is poiTible, meet me at Poole ^ if not) write to- mt thither, where l.fhall find you. Let your lettitr: wait me at the poft-houie.

FarewelL

JULIA 3>E R^UBIGNE'. i6^

LETTER XLV.

Jjulia io Maria.

^np H E hour is almofl: arrived ! My hufband has juft left me : he came into my room in iiis riding-drefs.—« I Ihall not be at home (feid he) tilifupper-time, and >Rouiile*5 (hooting party will detain him till it is late."—The confci-oufnefs of my purpofe prefled on my tongue while I anfwered him : I faltered, and could hardly fpealc. '" You fpeak faintly (faid Montauban). You are not

*

ill, I hope," taking my hand. I told him, truly, that my head ached a good deal) that it had ached all day, that I meant to try if a walk would do it fervice.

vice. •• Perhaps it may," anfwered he, and methoughc he looked fieadily, and with a (bit of queftion, at tne; or rather my own mind interpreted His look in that manner—I believe I bluihed.

How I tremble a^ I look on my watch! Would I could recal my promife!.

I am fomewhat bolder now; but it is not from having conquered my fear-, fomething like defpair aflifts me. — It wants but a few minutes

—the hand that points them feems to ipeak as I watch it,—Icome, Savillon, I come!

How fluU I defcribe our meeting ? I am unfit for defcribing—it cannot be de-fcribed—1 Ihall be calmer by and by.

I know

I kiiow not how I gpt to the houfe. From the moment I quitted my chamber, I was unconfcious of every thing around inc. The firft objeft that (truck my eye was Savillon! I recolleft my nurfe placing me in a chair oppofite to where he

fat—(he left us—I felt the room turning round with me—I had fainted, it feems. When I recovered, I found her fupport-ing me in her arms, and holding a phial of falts to my nofe. Savillon had my hands in his^ gazing on me with a coun* tenance of diftrefs and terror,—My eye met his, and, for fome moments, I looked on him, as I have done in my dreams, unmindful of our fituation,—The pref^

fure of his hand awakened me to recol-

leftion.

l6S JULIA DB ROUBlONfi'.

leflion. He looked on me more earneftly dill, and breathed out the word Julia !— It WMS .all ht could Utters but it fpoke fuch thjng3, Mftria l-r-You cannot underhand its force. Had you felt itjis I did!-—I cQuld nqt, indeed I could npt help burfting into tears.

•• My dearcft children," cried the good Lafune, taking our hands, which were ftill folded together, and fqueezing them in hers. The adion had fomething of that tender fimplicity in" it, which is not to be refitted. I wept afrefti -, but my tears were lefs painful than before.

She fetched a bottle of wine from a cupboard, and forced me to take a glafs of it. She offered another to Savillon.

He pur it t)y, with a gentle inclination of

his

his head. " You (hall drink it, indeed, my dear boy, (faid flie) it is a long time fihce you tafted any thing in this houfe." —He gave a deep figh, and drank it.

V

She had given us time to recover the power of fpeech; but I knew lefe how to begin fpeaking than before. My eyes now found fbmething in Savillon's, which they were afhamed to nncet-^Lafuoe left us; I almoft wiihed her to ftay.

Savillon fat down in his former place:

*

he threw his eyes on the ground—i" I know not, (faid he, in a.faltering voice) how to. thank you for the condefcenfion of this interview—our former friend-Ibip—*• I trembled for what he feemed, about to fay.—" I have not forgotten it,*' faid I, half interrupting hun,

—I faw him Vol. II. I ftart

I/O JUUA DE ROUBIGNB'.

ft art from his former pofttire) as if awaked by the found of my voice.

—^^ I a& not (continued he) to be re^nembered: I am unworthy of your nemembrance.— In a (hort time, I (hall be a voluntary exile from France, and bread^e out the re*

mains of life amidft a race of .ftrangert, who cannot call forth thofe afieAions, that would henceforth be fliut to the world !^ -*^* Speak not tfaiis, (I cried) for pity's fake, fpeak not thus! Live, and be happy, happy as your virtues deferve, as Julia wilhcs you!'* —"Julia wilh mc happy 1"—" Oh! Savillon, you know ndt the heart that you wring thus!-*-If ^t has wronged you, you arc revenged enough.** -»"

Revenged! revenged on Julia [ Heaven is my witnefs, 1 intreated this meeting, that my parting words might blefs iier 1"—He fell on his kaess before me-^

«

•* May that Power (he cried), who formed this excellence, reward it!

May every bleflSngthis life can beftow, be the portion of Julia I May (he be happy, long after the tongue that afks it, is filent for ever, and the heart, that now throbs with the wifli, has ceafed its throbbing!"—

Had you feen him, Maria, as he uttered this ! —What (hould I have done ?—Weeping, trembling, unconfcious, as it were, of myfclf, I fpoke I know not what—told him the weaknefs of my fob], and lamented the defliny that had made me another's. This was too much. When I could recoiled myfelf, I felt that it was too much. I would have retraced what I had faid: I fpoke of the duty I owed to Montauban, of the efteem which his virtues deferved.—** I have heard of his worth (faid Savillon); I needed no proof I 2 to

lya JULIA DE ROUBIGNE^

to be convinced of it; he is the hufband of Julia."—There was fomcthing in the tone of thefe laft words, that undid my refolution again*—I told him of the falfe intelligence I had received of his mar^-

riage, without which no argument of pru-dence, no paternal influence, could have made me the wife of another.—He put his hand to his heart, and threw his eyes wildly to heaven.—I (hrunk back at that look of defpair, which hi^ countenance aflumed.—He took two or three hurried turns through the room ; then, refuming his feat, and lowering his voice, ^^ It is enough (faid he), I am fated to be mi-fcrable! but the contagion of my deftiny (hall fpread no farther. —This night I leave France for ever!"—" This^ night P* I exclaimed. •' h muft be fo (faid he, with a determined calmnefs) -, but before

JULIA DE ROUBIGNE. I7J

I^go, let me depofit in your hands this paper. It is a memorial of that SaviU Ion, who was the friend of Julia!"—-I opened it: it was a will, bcqijcathing his fortune to me. ** This muft not be (faidl), this muft not be. Think not, I donjure you, fo dcfpairingly of life; live to enjoy

that fortune, which is fo feldom the reward of merit like thine; I have lio title to it^ difpofal/* ••^ You have the beft one (returned Savillon, ftill pre-ferving his compofure), I hevcr valued wealth, but as it might render me, in the language of the world, more worthy of thee. To make it thine, was the purpofe df my wifhing to acquire it •, to make it thine, is ftill in my power." ** I cannot receive this, indeed I cannot* Think of the fituation in which I ftand/* I preffed the paper upon him: he took it at laft^

'74 JULJA Dr rovbigne'.

and paufing, as if he thought, for a moment—«« You arc right, there may be an impropriety in your keeping it,— Alas! I have fcarce a friend, to whom I can intruft any thing j yet I may find onci who will fee it faithfully executed.**

He was interrupted by Lafune, who entered fomewhat hurriedly, and told lu^ Lifette was come to fetch me, and that ihe had met my hufband in her way to the houfe. ^* We mud part then (faid he), for ever !~-let not a thought of the unfortunate Savillon difturb the happi* nefs which Heaven allots to Julia ^ (he Ihali hear of hinir but once again—when that period arrives, it will not ofiend'the happy Montauban^ if (he drops a tear to the memory of one, whofe love was expiated by hii fufiiringsr*—-Maria I was it a breach of virtue, if then I threw myfelf on bis neck, if then I wept on

bis bofotn i His look, his laft look! I

fee it ftill! never fhall I forget it!«—

Merciful God I at whofe altar I vowed fidelity to another! impute not to me as a crime'the remembrance of Savillon \ thou canft fee the purity of that heart, wiikh bleeds at the remembrance!

>■ .* /

Eleven at night. You know my prefentiments of evil; never did I feel them fo ftrong as at pre-fent. I tremble to go to bed-—the taper that burns by me is dim, and methink^ my bed looks like a grave I I 4 I wa9

I was weak enough to call back Lifette* I pretended fome little b^finefs for her ^ the poor girl obferved that. I looked ill, and aflced if ihe fhould fit by me-: I bad almoft faid Yes, but had courage enoiigh to combat ii>y fears in that inftance. She bid mc Good night

—there was fomewhat folenin in her utterance of that Goo^-nighty I fancy mine was not without it&

particular cmphafis, for ihe looked back wiftfuUy as I fpoke.—

I will fay my prayers and" forget it $ pray for mie too, my friend.—I have need of your prayers, indeed I have—^Good night to my deareft Maria!

If I have recoUeftion chough—Oh F my Maria!—I will be calm—it was but

gdream-«

, SL dream—will you blulh for my wcak-ncfs ? yet hear me—if this fhould be the laft time I fhall ever write—the memory of my friend mingles with the thought 1—• yet methinks I could, at this time, beyond any other, die contented.

My fears had given way to fleep j but their impreflion was on my fancy ftill. Methought I fat in our family-monument k Belville, with a fingle glimmering lamp, that (hewed the horrors of the place, when, on a fudden, a light like that of the: morning, burft on the gloomy vault, and the venerable figures of mjf fathers, fuch as I had (ccn them in the

pictures of our hall, (lopd fmiiing benig-nity upon me! The attitude of the fore-moft was that of attention, his finger ceding upon his lip.

—I liftened—-when^

I 5^ founds*

178 JULIA DE ROUBIGNe',

founds of more than terrcflrial melodj fiole on my ear, borne, as it were, on

the diftant wind, till they fwelled lit laft tomufic fo exquifite, that my ravifhed fenfe was ftretched too far for delufion. . and I awoke in the midft of the intrance* ment!

I rofe, with the memory of the founds^ full upon my mind ^ the candle I had ordered to ftand by me was ftill unextin-t gui(hed. I fa^t down to the organ^ and, with that fmall foft (top you ufed to call feraphic, endeavoured to imitate their t5fauty* And never before did your Julia play an air fo heavenly, or feel fucb extafy in the power of found ! When I had catched the folemn chord that laft arofe in my dream, my fingers dwelt involuntarily on the keys, and mcthought 8

I faw

I iaw the guardian fpirits around me, Kftening with a rapture like mine!—-^

»

But it will not bft<-4he bU&fu} ddi^ fion is gone, and I am left a weak, an unhappy woman ftill!—-

I am fick at heart, Maria, and a faint* nefs like thatofdeath*

The fit is over, and I am able to write again ; and I will write while I am able* Methinks, my friend, I am taking faro-Well of you, and I would lengthen out the lingering words as much as I can» I am juft now recalling the fcenes .pf peaceful happinefs we. have enjoyed to*

gcther.—I imagine I feel the arm of my

I 6 Maria

Maria thrown round my neck—her tears fall on my bofbm!—Thipk of me whea lam gone,—This faintnefs again.—Fare-will!'farewell!

perhaps

LETTER XLVL

Montauhan to Segarva.

T T is done, Segarva, it is done !—thr poor unthinking—Support me, my friend, fupport me with the thoughts of that vengeance I owe to my honour—-the guilty Julia has but a few hours to live.

I did but Hften a moment at the door $• 1 thought I heard her maid upon the ftatrs—>it is not yet the time.—Hark !— it was not my wife's bell—the clock ft ruck eleven—never (ball (he hear it ftrike that houc agaial——»

Pardoa

Pardon me, my Segarva $ methinks I ipeak to yoUy when I icrawl upon this paper. I wifh for ibm^bodf to ipeak to;. to anfwer, to comfort, to guide hrie»—

Had you leen her, when thefe trembling hands detiviercd her the bowl t<^Shc had complained of being iU, and begged ta Kc alone; but hqr iUneta i^tmd Qf the mind, and when flie fppk^ to mt, (he betrayed the etpbarra^ment of guilf:, I gave her the drug as a cordial.

She took it from me, fmiling, and her look feern* ed to loff \t»

wnfv^tu She draiik my l^alth I She was dfefled in a :white (ilk bed-gown, ornatiief^fd with pale pmk rtbbandf. Hfif dmk wjii grntly flawed fronfi tbfiif i?fl«ftM>9 i )k^1>Iw i^M veite jturned upwards as (he drank, :aii4^ daik* brown ringlet lay on her fliouldcr.—^Methinks

1

«!

jVLtA DE RaUBIGNS'. I?}

, thinks I fee her now—^how like an angel ihe looked! Had ihe been innocent, Se« garva!—You know, 70U know> it is ioh poflible ihe can be innocent.

Let me recoiled myfelf-—a many 4 foldicr, the friend of Segarva !*«-

At the word innoeent I flopped; I could fcarce hold my pen; I rofe from my featy I know not why. Methought fome one pafled behind me in the room. I fnatched up ipy fword in one hand, gnd a candle in th^ other.—It wgs my owi> figure in a mirror that ftood at my back.

-»Wbat a look was mine I—Am I a murderer ?—Juftice cannot murdei!^ 1^ the vtngeance of Montauban is juft«

Lor-

iffif JWLIA^ DB ROtJBIGNE';.

LonquiUcz has been with me,—I duj-ft BOt queftion him when he entered the apartment—but the deed is not done: he could not find Savillon. After watching for fevcral hours,, he met a peafant, whom he had feen attending him the d^ before^ who informed him, that the ftrange gentleman had fet off, fome time after it grew dark, in a poft-chaife, which drove away at full fpeed. Is my re-venge then incomplete ?—or is one victim fufficient to the injured honour of a Huiband ?—What a* vidim is that one!

• I went down ftairs to let Xonqiullez out by a private palTage, of which I keep the: key. When* I was returning ta my apartment, I heard the found of

mufia

••■

JULIA DE ROUBIGNB/ 185;

mufic proceeding from my wife's chamber; there is a double door on it; I opened the outer one without any norTe^ and the inner has fome. panes of glafs^ a-top, through which I faw a part of the room.

Segarva! (he fat at the organ» her fingers.prefling on the keys, and

her look up-raifed with enthufiaftic rapture I —the folemn founds ftill ring in my ear! fuch as angels might play, when the fainted foul afcends to Heaven! I am the fool of appearances, when I have fuch proofs—Lifette is at my doon

It is now that I feel myfelf a coward ; the horrid draught has begun to operate i —She thinks herfelf in danger; a phy-fician is fent for, but he lives at a dif*

tance *» before he arrives—Oh! Segarva t

She

She begged I would quit the chwi* ber} Ihe (kw my confufioo, and thcHight it proceeded ffom diftrefs at her iUnei^. -^an guilt be thua miftreft of herrtIf ? —let me not think that way^-^my brain is too weak for it!—Lifette again |

i^mt^mmmm'mimt'mfi^'T*^*'

She is guilty, and I am not a murderer F Igo to-^

JULIA DE ROUBIGHE^ I 87

L E T T E H XLVIL

M^fiiwr dt RiuifU to MadmoifiUe dt

Rjofuilks.

Madam,

^p H E writer c^ this letter has no title to addrefs you, except that which common friendlhip and common cala^ mity may give him*

Amidft the fatal fcenes, which he has lately witnefled, bis recolleftion was loft; when it returned, it fpoke of Mademoi* felle de Roncilles, the firft, he believes, and deareft friend of the moft amiable, but moft unfortunate Madame de Mon-tauban. The ofBce he now undertaken

is terrible; but it is necefiary.—Yoti inuft foon be told, that your excellent friend is no more! Hear it then from one, who knew her excellence, as you did; who tells the horrid circumftances of her death with a bleeding heart.-^ Yes, Madam, I muft prepare you for .horrorss and, while the remembrance tears my own bofotn, affume the calmne& that is necefiary for yours-

«

On the evening of Thurfday laft, I was^ told Madame de Montauban was a good deal indiipofed, and bad gone to bed be* fore her ufual time» At a very fliort and filent fupper, I perceived her hufband uncommonly agitated, and, as fobn as-decency would < allow me, withdrew and left him. Betwixt eleven and twelve o'clock, (I had not yet gone to bed) one

of

of the maid*fervants came to my room, fcegging I would inftantly attend her to the chamber of her miftrcfe, who was fo extremely Ul, that, wtthotit immediate affiftance, they feared the very worft confequences. I had formerly ftudied a little phyfic, and been in ufe to praftife it in fome parycular campaigns, when aMer affiftance could not be bad. I ran down ftairs with the fervant, defiring my own man to feek out a little cafe of lancets and follow us. The girl informed her mit trcfs of my being at the door of her apartment. She defired I might come in, and with that fmile, which ficknefs could not quench, ftretqhed out her hand to me. I found her pulfe low and weak, and flic complained of a ftrangc fluttering at he» heart, which hardly allowed her to fpcak. I was afraid to venture on bktding, and only

190 JUUA DC koubigne'.

only gave hcf a Uttle of fome common re* ftofratives that were at hand. She found herielf fomewhat relieved, and fat up in iter bed

fuppoited by her maid. Moncau-ban entered the room : his countenance furprifed me: it was not that of diftrefs 4

alone, it was marked with turbulence and horror. It feemed to hij^t his wife. At that moment fhe was fcarce able to fpeak \ but ihe forced out a few broken words, begging him to leave the room, for that her illnefs affeded him too much. He withdrew in filence. In a little time, Ae leemed a good deal eafier *, but her pulfe was ftill lower than before. She ordered her maid to call Monf. de Mon* tauban again: **

I dare not trufk to future moments (faid (he), and I have ibn^ething important to reveal to him/*— I offered to leave the room as he entered.

—** His friend may hear it*'—fihc faid, in a faltering voice. She fixed her eye languidly, but fieadily, on Montauban. He advanced towards her with an eager gaze, without uttering a word. When ilie would have fpoken, her voice failed her again, and fhe beckoned, but with a modefty in her adion, fignifying her de-fire that he (hould fit down by her. She took his hand; he feesned unconfcious of her taking it, and continued to bend a k>ok of earneftnefs upon her.

When ihe had recovered the power

of utterance, ^* I feel^ Sir, (faid (he) fomethihg in this illnefs predidive of the worfti at any rate, I would prepare for it. If I am now to die, I hope (lifting up her eyes with a certain meek afiuranee which it is impoflible to paint) I die

to

192 JULIA DE R0UBIGNE\

in peac& with Heaven! there is one account which I wifh to fettle with you. Thefe moments of cafe, which I enjoy, are allowed me to confefs my ofTence, and intreat your forgivenefs."

** Thou wert guilty then ?*'—exclaimed her hufband, ftarting from his feat. She paUfed in aftonifliment at the impaf-fioned gefture he

aflumcd—*• Speak!" cried Montauban, recovering himfelf a little, hisL voice fuffbcated with the word.

** When you have heard me (faid Julia), you will find, I am lefs guilty than unfortunate; yet I am not innocent, for then I (hbuld not have been the wife of Montauban."

€i

When

JULIA DE ROUBIGNE, I93

** When I became yours, my heart owned you not for the lord of its affections ; there was an attachment yet

look not fo fternjy on me.—He, in whofc favour that prepoflcflion was formed, would not have wronged you if he could. His virtues were the objefts of my affedion 5 and had Savillon been the thing you fear, Julia had been guiltlefs even of loving him in fecret. Till yefterday he never told me his love; till yefterday he knew not I had ever loved him.**—

" But yefterday,** cried Montauban, feeming to check the agitation he had ihewn before, and lowering his voice into a tone of calm feverity,

" For the offence of yefterday, (fatd

(he) I would obtain your pardon, and

194 JVUA DK ROUBIGNE^

die 10 peace* I met Savillon in fecret % I faw the aoguifli of his foul, and pitied it.«-^Was it a crime thus to meet him ? Was it a crime to confeis my loye, while 1 recftved the laft farewell of the unfortunate Savillon? This is mj ofience**^ perhaps the laft that Julia can conunit, or you forgive!

i»f «'

He clafped his hands convuKnrely together, and throwing up to Heaven a look of defpair, fell fenfelefs into my arms. Julia would have fprung to his afTiftancc, but her (Irength was unequal to the effort: her maid fcrcamcd for hclp^ and feveral of the fervants ruihed into the room. We recovered the haplefs Montaub^n; he looked round.wildly for a moment, then faftening his eye on Julia*—

. JULIA PE ItOUBIdNfe'. 19^

julia-i-" I have murdered thee, be cried; that draught I gave thee

^that

draught was death!*' He would have prclTcd her to hk bofom; (he funk frond his embrace—her clofing. eye looked pi* (ecus upon him

——her hand was half ftretched t© his—and a fingle figh breath** cd out her foul to Heaven !

" She (hall not die,'* he" cried, eagerly catching hold of her hand, and bending over her Itfelcfs body with a glare of in-conceivable horror in his afpcft. I kid hold of his arm, endeavouring to draw his attention towards me j but he feertied not to reganl me, and continued that frightful gaze on the remains of his much-injured wife/ I made a flgn for the fer-vants to aflift me, and taking his hand, K 2 began

'9^ JULIA DE ROUBIGNE'.

began to ufe a gentle fort of violence to lead him away. He ftarted back a few paces, without, however, altering the direaion of his eye, "

You may torture mc (cried he, wildly), I can bear it aU -Ha! Segarva there l-fct them prove the hand-writing if they can-mark it, I %, there is no blood in her face—let me aOc one queftion of the doftor—you know the effefts of poifon-her lips arc

xvhite-bid Savillon kifi them now

they Ihall fpeak no more, Julia ihall fpeak no more !**

Word was now brought me, that the phyCcian, who had been fent for to the affiftan^e of Juli,, was arriv-ed. He had come, al^j" too late for her J but I meant to ufe his (kill

on

JULIA DE ROUBICNE. 801

coUedlion of the fateful events I' had k^n. Arpentier, from the habit of looking on the forms of death, was more mafter of himfclf; after examining the body, and pondering a little on the be« haviour of the count, he went into the clofet> where he found, on a fmall table, a phial uncorked, which he brought to me. It explained the fate of Montau* ban; a label fattened to it, was infcribed LAUDANUM; its deadly contents he 4iad fwallowed in his delirium, before he went to bed.

Such was the conclufion of a life dif-tinguilhed by the exercife of every manly virtue, and, except in this inftance, un-ftained with a crime. While I mourn the fate of his moft amiable wife, I recal

202 JULIA DE ROUBIGNE^

cal the menlory of my once dearly-va« lutd friend, and would ihelter it with

fome apology if I could. Let that ho--, nour which he worfliipped plead in his defence.—That honour we have worfliip^ ped together, and I would not weaken its facred voice; but I look on the body of Montauban—I weep over the pale corfe of Julia!—I Ihuddcr at the fa-

criBces of miftaken honour, and lift up my hands to pity and to juftice.

«••«#««•••

THE END

t t

^^

-»/

Document Outline

• Title Page
• Pages