liber amoris-第19章
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ice； and rose to go。 I begged her to sit a few minutes； that I might try to recollect if there was anything else I wished to say to her； perhaps for the last time； and then； not finding anything； I bade her good night； and asked for a farewell kiss。 Do you know she refused； so little does she understand what is due to friendship； or love； or honour！ We parted friends； however； and I felt deep grief； but no enmity against her。 I thought C had pressed his suit after I went； and had prevailed。 There was no harm in thata little fickleness or so； a little over…pretension to unalterable attachmentbut that was all。 She liked him better than meit was my hard hap； but I must bear it。 I went out to roam the desert streets； when； turning a corner； whom should I meet but her very lover？ I went up to him and asked for a few minutes' conversation on a subject that was highly interesting to me and I believed not indifferent to him： and in the course of four hours' talk； it came out that for three months previous to my quitting London for Scotland； she had been playing the same game with him as with methat he breakfasted first； and enjoyed an hour of her society； and then I took my turn； so that we never jostled； and this explained why； when he came back sometimes and passed my door； as she was sitting in my lap； she coloured violently； thinking if her lover looked in； what a denouement there would be。 He could not help again and again expressing his astonishment at finding that our intimacy had continued unimpaired up to so late a period after he came； and when they were on the most intimate footing。 She used to deny positively to him that there was anything between us； just as she used to assure me with impenetrable effrontery that 〃Mr。 C was nothing to her； but merely a lodger。〃 All this while she kept up the farce of her romantic attachment to her old lover； vowed that she never could alter in that respect； let me go to Scotland on the solemn and repeated assurance that there was no new flame； that there was no bar between us but this shadowy loveI leave her on this understanding； she becomes more fond or more intimate with her new lover； he quitting the house （whether tired out or not； I can't say）in revenge she ceases to write to me； keeps me in wretched suspense； treats me like something loathsome to her when I return to enquire the cause； denies it with scorn and impudence； destroys me and shews no pity； no desire to soothe or shorten the pangs she has occasioned by her wantonness and hypocrisy； and wishes to linger the affair on to the last moment； going out to keep an appointment with another while she pretends to be obliging me in the tenderest point （which C himself said was too much）。 。 。 。What do you think of all this？ Shall I tell you my opinion？ But I must try to do it in another letter。
TO THE SAME
（In conclusion）
I did not sleep a wink all that night； nor did I know till the next day the full meaning of what had happened to me。 With the morning's light； conviction glared in upon me that I had not only lost her for everbut every feeling I had ever had towards herrespect； tenderness； pityall but my fatal passion； was gone。 The whole was a mockery； a frightful illusion。 I had embraced the false Florimel instead of the true； or was like the man in the Arabian Nights who had married a GOUL。 How different was the idea I once had of her？ Was this she；
〃Who had been beguiledshe who was made Within a gentle bosom to be laid To bless and to be blessedto be heart…bare To one who found his bettered likeness there To think for ever with him； like a bride To haunt his eye； like taste personified To double his delight； to share his sorrow； And like a morning beam； wake to him every morrow？
I saw her pale； cold form glide silent by me； dead to shame as to pity。 Still I seemed to clasp this piece of witchcraft to my bosom； this lifeless image； which was all that was left of my love； was the only thing to which my sad heart clung。 Were she dead； should I not wish to gaze once more upon her pallid features？ She is dead to me； but what she once was to me； can never die！ The agony； the conflict of hope and fear； of adoration and jealousy is over； or it would； ere long； have ended with my life。 I am no more lifted now to Heaven； and then plunged in the abyss； but I seem to have been thrown from the top of a precipice； and to lie groveling； stunned； and stupefied。 I am melancholy； lonesome； and weaker than a child。 The worst is； I have no prospect of any alteration for the better： she has cut off all possibility of a reconcilement at any future period。 Were she even to return to her former pretended fondness and endearments； I could have no pleasure； no confidence in them。 I can scarce make out the contradiction to myself。 I strive to think she always was what I now know she is； but I have great difficulty in it； and can hardly believe but she still IS what she so long SEEMED。 Poor thing！ I am afraid she is little better off herself； nor do I see what is to become of her； unless she throws off the mask at once； and RUNS A…MUCK at infamy。 She is exposed and laid bare to all those whose opinion she set a value upon。 Yet she held her head very high； and must feel （if she feels any thing） proportionably mortified。A more complete experiment on character was never made。 If I had not met her lover immediately after I parted with her； it would have been nothing。 I might have supposed she had changed her mind in my absence； and had given him the preference as soon as she felt it； and even shewn her delicacy in declining any farther intimacy with me。 But it comes out that she had gone on in the most forward and familiar way with both at once（she could not change her mind in passing from one room to another）told both the same barefaced and unblushing falsehoods； like the commonest creature； received presents from me to the very last； and wished to keep up the game still longer； either to gratify her humour； her avarice； or her vanity in playing with my passion； or to have me as a dernier resort； in case of accidents。 Again； it would have been nothing； if she had not come up with her demure； well…composed； wheedling looks that morning； and then met me in the evening in a situation； which （she believed） might kill me on the spot； with no more feeling than a common courtesan shews； who BILKS a customer； and passes him； leering up at her bully； the moment after。 If there had been the frailty of passion； it would have been excusable； but it is evident she is a practised； callous jilt； a regular lodging…house decoy； played off by her mother upon the lodgers； one after another； applying them to her different purposes； laughing at them in turns； and herself the probable dupe and victim of some favourite gallant in the end。 I know all this； but what do I gain by it； unless I could find some one with her shape and air； to supply the place of the lovely apparition？ That a professed wanton should come and sit on a man's knee； and put her arms round his neck； and caress him； and seem fond of him； means nothing； proves nothing； no one concludes anything from it； but that a pretty； reserved； modest； delicate…looking girl should do this； from the first hour to the last of your being in the house； without intending anything by it； is new； and； I think； worth explaining。 It was； I confess； out of my calculation； and may be out of that of others。 Her unmoved indifference and self…possession all the while； shew that it is her constant practice。 Her look even； if closely examined； bears this interpretation。 It is that of studied hypocrisy or startled guilt； rather than of refined sensibility or conscious innocence。 〃She defied anyone to read her thoughts？〃 she once told me。 〃Do they then require concealing？〃 I imprudently asked her。 The command over herself is surprising。 She never once betrays herself by any momentary forgetfulness； by any appearance of triumph or superiority to the person who is her dupe； by any levity of manner in the plenitude of her success； it is one faultless； undeviating； consistent； consummate piece of acting。 Were she a saint on earth； she could not seem more like one。 Her hypocrit
