Nightmare Abbey
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Thomas Love Peacock >> Nightmare Abbey
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While he was acting this reverie--in the moment in which the awful
president of the secret tribunal was throwing back his cowl and his
mantle, and discovering himself to the lovely culprit as her adoring
and magnanimous lover, the door of the study opened, and the real
Marionetta appeared.
The motives which had led her to the tower were a little penitence, a
little concern, a little affection, and a little fear as to what the
sudden secession of Scythrop, occasioned by her sudden change of
manner, might portend. She had tapped several times unheard, and of
course unanswered; and at length, timidly and cautiously opening the
door, she discovered him standing up before a black velvet chair,
which was mounted on an old oak table, in the act of throwing open his
striped calico dressing-gown, and flinging away his nightcap--which is
what the French call an imposing attitude.
Each stood a few moments fixed in their respective places--the lady in
astonishment, and the gentleman in confusion. Marionetta was the first
to break silence. 'For heaven's sake,' said she, 'my dear Scythrop,
what is the matter?'
'For heaven's sake, indeed!' said Scythrop, springing from the table;
'for your sake, Marionetta, and you are my heaven,--distraction is the
matter. I adore you, Marionetta, and your cruelty drives me mad.'
He threw himself at her knees, devoured her hand with kisses, and
breathed a thousand vows in the most passionate language of romance.
Marionetta listened a long time in silence, till her lover had
exhausted his eloquence and paused for a reply. She then said, with a
very arch look, 'I prithee deliver thyself like a man of this world.'
The levity of this quotation, and of the manner in which it was
delivered, jarred so discordantly on the high-wrought enthusiasm of
the romantic inamorato, that he sprang upon his feet, and beat his
forehead with his clenched fist. The young lady was terrified; and,
deeming it expedient to soothe him, took one of his hands in hers,
placed the other hand on his shoulder, looked up in his face with a
winning seriousness, and said, in the tenderest possible tone, 'What
would you have, Scythrop?'
Scythrop was in heaven again. 'What would I have? What but you,
Marionetta? You, for the companion of my studies, the partner of my
thoughts, the auxiliary of my great designs for the emancipation of
mankind.'
'I am afraid I should be but a poor auxiliary, Scythrop. What would
you have me do?'
'Do as Rosalia does with Carlos, divine Marionetta. Let us each open
a vein in the other's arm, mix our blood in a bowl, and drink it as
a sacrament of love. Then we shall see visions of transcendental
illumination, and soar on the wings of ideas into the space of pure
intelligence.'
Marionetta could not reply; she had not so strong a stomach as
Rosalia, and turned sick at the proposition. She disengaged herself
suddenly from Scythrop, sprang through the door of the tower, and fled
with precipitation along the corridors. Scythrop pursued her, crying,
'Stop, stop, Marionetta--my life, my love!' and was gaining rapidly on
her flight, when, at an ill-omened corner, where two corridors ended
in an angle, at the head of a staircase, he came into sudden and
violent contact with Mr Toobad, and they both plunged together to the
foot of the stairs, like two billiard-balls into one pocket. This gave
the young lady time to escape, and enclose herself in her chamber;
while Mr Toobad, rising slowly, and rubbing his knees and shoulders,
said, 'You see, my dear Scythrop, in this little incident, one of the
innumerable proofs of the temporary supremacy of the devil; for what
but a systematic design and concurrent contrivance of evil could have
made the angles of time and place coincide in our unfortunate persons
at the head of this accursed staircase?'
'Nothing else, certainly,' said Scythrop: 'you are perfectly in the
right, Mr Toobad. Evil, and mischief, and misery, and confusion,
and vanity, and vexation of spirit, and death, and disease, and
assassination, and war, and poverty, and pestilence, and famine, and
avarice, and selfishness, and rancour, and jealousy, and spleen,
and malevolence, and the disappointments of philanthropy, and the
faithlessness of friendship, and the crosses of love--all prove the
accuracy of your views, and the truth of your system; and it is not
impossible that the infernal interruption of this fall downstairs may
throw a colour of evil on the whole of my future existence.'
'My dear boy,' said Mr Toobad, 'you have a fine eye for consequences.'
So saying, he embraced Scythrop, who retired, with a disconsolate
step, to dress for dinner; while Mr Toobad stalked across the hall,
repeating, 'Woe to the inhabiters of the earth, and of the sea, for
the devil is come among you, having great wrath.'
* * * * *
CHAPTER IV
The flight of Marionetta, and the pursuit of Scythrop, had been
witnessed by Mr Glowry, who, in consequence, narrowly observed his son
and his niece in the evening; and, concluding from their manner, that
there was a better understanding between them than he wished to see,
he determined on obtaining the next morning from Scythrop a full and
satisfactory explanation. He, therefore, shortly after breakfast,
entered Scythrop's tower, with a very grave face, and said, without
ceremony or preface, 'So, sir, you are in love with your cousin.'
Scythrop, with as little hesitation, answered, 'Yes, sir.'
'That is candid, at least; and she is in love with you.'
'I wish she were, sir.'
'You know she is, sir.'
'Indeed, sir, I do not.'
'But you hope she is.'
'I do, from my soul.'
'Now that is very provoking, Scythrop, and very disappointing: I could
not have supposed that you, Scythrop Glowry, of Nightmare Abbey,
would have been infatuated with such a dancing, laughing, singing,
thoughtless, careless, merry-hearted thing, as Marionetta--in all
respects the reverse of you and me. It is very disappointing,
Scythrop. And do you know, sir, that Marionetta has no fortune?'
'It is the more reason, sir, that her husband should have one.'
'The more reason for her; but not for you. My wife had no fortune, and
I had no consolation in my calamity. And do you reflect, sir, what an
enormous slice this lawsuit has cut out of our family estate? we who
used to be the greatest landed proprietors in Lincolnshire.'
'To be sure, sir, we had more acres of fen than any man on this
coast: but what are fens to love? What are dykes and windmills to
Marionetta?'
'And what, sir, is love to a windmill? Not grist, I am certain:
besides, sir, I have made a choice for you. I have made a choice for
you, Scythrop. Beauty, genius, accomplishments, and a great fortune
into the bargain. Such a lovely, serious creature, in a fine state of
high dissatisfaction with the world, and every thing in it. Such a
delightful surprise I had prepared for you. Sir, I have pledged my
honour to the contract--the honour of the Glowries of Nightmare Abbey:
and now, sir, what is to be done?'
'Indeed, sir, I cannot say. I claim, on this occasion, that liberty of
action which is the co-natal prerogative of every rational being.'
'Liberty of action, sir? there is no such thing as liberty of action.
We are all slaves and puppets of a blind and unpathetic necessity.'
'Very true, sir; but liberty of action, between individuals, consists
in their being differently influenced, or modified, by the same
universal necessity; so that the results are unconsentaneous, and
their respective necessitated volitions clash and fly off in a
tangent.'
'Your logic is good, sir: but you are aware, too, that one individual
may be a medium of adhibiting to another a mode or form of necessity,
which may have more or less influence in the production of
consentaneity; and, therefore, sir, if you do not comply with my
wishes in this instance (you have had your own way in every thing
else), I shall be under the necessity of disinheriting you, though
I shall do it with tears in my eyes.' Having said these words, he
vanished suddenly, in the dread of Scythrop's logic.
Mr Glowry immediately sought Mrs Hilary, and communicated to her his
views of the case in point. Mrs Hilary, as the phrase is, was as fond
of Marionetta as if she had been her own child: but--there is always a
_but_ on these occasions--she could do nothing for her in the way
of fortune, as she had two hopeful sons, who were finishing their
education at Brazen-nose, and who would not like to encounter any
diminution of their prospects, when they should be brought out of the
house of mental bondage--i.e. the university--to the land flowing with
milk and honey--i.e. the west end of London.
Mrs Hilary hinted to Marionetta, that propriety, and delicacy, and
decorum, and dignity, &c. &c. &c.,[3] would require them to leave the
Abbey immediately. Marionetta listened in silent submission, for she
knew that her inheritance was passive obedience; but, when Scythrop,
who had watched the opportunity of Mrs Hilary's departure, entered,
and, without speaking a word, threw himself at her feet in a paroxysm
of grief, the young lady, in equal silence and sorrow, threw her arms
round his neck and burst into tears. A very tender scene ensued, which
the sympathetic susceptibilities of the soft-hearted reader can more
accurately imagine than we can delineate. But when Marionetta hinted
that she was to leave the Abbey immediately, Scythrop snatched from
its repository his ancestor's skull, filled it with Madeira, and
presenting himself before Mr Glowry, threatened to drink off the
contents if Mr Glowry did not immediately promise that Marionetta
should not be taken from the Abbey without her own consent. Mr Glowry,
who took the Madeira to be some deadly brewage, gave the required
promise in dismal panic. Scythrop returned to Marionetta with a joyful
heart, and drank the Madeira by the way.
Mr Glowry, during his residence in London, had come to an agreement
with his friend Mr Toobad, that a match between Scythrop and Mr
Toobad's daughter would be a very desirable occurrence. She was
finishing her education in a German convent, but Mr Toobad described
her as being fully impressed with the truth of his Ahrimanic
philosophy,[4] and being altogether as gloomy and antithalian a young
lady as Mr Glowry himself could desire for the future mistress of
Nightmare Abbey. She had a great fortune in her own right, which was
not, as we have seen, without its weight in inducing Mr Glowry to
set his heart upon her as his daughter-in-law that was to be; he was
therefore very much disturbed by Scythrop's untoward attachment to
Marionetta. He condoled on the occasion with Mr Toobad; who said, that
he had been too long accustomed to the intermeddling of the devil in
all his affairs, to be astonished at this new trace of his cloven
claw; but that he hoped to outwit him yet, for he was sure there could
be no comparison between his daughter and Marionetta in the mind of
any one who had a proper perception of the fact, that, the world
being a great theatre of evil, seriousness and solemnity are the
characteristics of wisdom, and laughter and merriment make a human
being no better than a baboon. Mr Glowry comforted himself with this
view of the subject, and urged Mr Toobad to expedite his daughter's
return from Germany. Mr Toobad said he was in daily expectation of her
arrival in London, and would set off immediately to meet her, that
he might lose no time in bringing her to Nightmare Abbey. 'Then,' he
added, 'we shall see whether Thalia or Melpomene--whether the Allegra
or the Penserosa--will carry off the symbol of victory.'--'There can
be no doubt,' said Mr Glowry, 'which way the scale will incline, or
Scythrop is no true scion of the venerable stem of the Glowries.'
* * * * *
CHAPTER V
Marionetta felt secure of Scythrop's heart; and notwithstanding the
difficulties that surrounded her, she could not debar herself from the
pleasure of tormenting her lover, whom she kept in a perpetual fever.
Sometimes she would meet him with the most unqualified affection;
sometimes with the most chilling indifference; rousing him to anger by
artificial coldness--softening him to love by eloquent tenderness--or
inflaming him to jealousy by coquetting with the Honourable Mr
Listless, who seemed, under her magical influence, to burst into
sudden life, like the bud of the evening primrose. Sometimes she would
sit by the piano, and listen with becoming attention to Scythrop's
pathetic remonstrances; but, in the most impassioned part of his
oratory, she would convert all his ideas into a chaos, by striking up
some Rondo Allegro, and saying, 'Is it not pretty?' Scythrop would
begin to storm; and she would answer him with,
'Zitti, zitti, piano, piano,
Non facciamo confusione,'
or some similar _facezia_, till he would start away from her, and
enclose himself in his tower, in an agony of agitation, vowing to
renounce her, and her whole sex, for ever; and returning to her
presence at the summons of the billet, which she never failed to
send with many expressions of penitence and promises of amendment.
Scythrop's schemes for regenerating the world, and detecting his seven
golden candle-sticks, went on very slowly in this fever of his spirit.
Things proceeded in this train for several days; and Mr Glowry began
to be uneasy at receiving no intelligence from Mr Toobad; when one
evening the latter rushed into the library, where the family and the
visitors were assembled, vociferating, 'The devil is come among
you, having great wrath!' He then drew Mr Glowry aside into another
apartment, and after remaining some time together, they re-entered the
library with faces of great dismay, but did not condescend to explain
to any one the cause of their discomfiture.
The next morning, early, Mr Toobad departed. Mr Glowry sighed and
groaned all day, and said not a word to any one. Scythrop had
quarrelled, as usual, with Marionetta, and was enclosed in his tower,
in a fit of morbid sensibility. Marionetta was comforting herself at
the piano, with singing the airs of _Nina pazza per amore_; and the
Honourable Mr Listless was listening to the harmony, as he lay
supine on the sofa, with a book in his hand, into which he peeped at
intervals. The Reverend Mr Larynx approached the sofa, and proposed a
game at billiards.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
Billiards! Really I should be very happy; but, in my present exhausted
state, the exertion is too much for me. I do not know when I have been
equal to such an effort. (_He rang the bell for his valet. Fatout
entered_.) Fatout! when did I play at billiards last?
FATOUT
De fourteen December de last year, Monsieur. (_Fatout bowed and
retired_.)
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
So it was. Seven months ago. You see, Mr Larynx; you see, sir. My
nerves, Miss O'Carroll, my nerves are shattered. I have been advised
to try Bath. Some of the faculty recommend Cheltenham. I think of
trying both, as the seasons don't clash. The season, you know, Mr
Larynx--the season, Miss O'Carroll--the season is every thing.
MARIONETTA
And health is something. _N'est-ce pas_, Mr Larynx?
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
Most assuredly, Miss O'Carroll. For, however reasoners may dispute
about the _summum bonum_, none of them will deny that a very good
dinner is a very good thing: and what is a good dinner without a good
appetite? and whence is a good appetite but from good health? Now,
Cheltenham, Mr Listless, is famous for good appetites.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
The best piece of logic I ever heard, Mr Larynx; the very best,
I assure you. I have thought very seriously of Cheltenham: very
seriously and profoundly. I thought of it--let me see--when did I
think of it? (_He rang again, and Fatout reappeared._) Fatout! when
did I think of going to Cheltenham, and did not go?
FATOUT
De Juillet twenty-von, de last summer, Monsieur. (_Fatout retired._)
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
So it was. An invaluable fellow that, Mr Larynx--invaluable, Miss
O'Carroll.
MARIONETTA
So I should judge, indeed. He seems to serve you as a walking memory,
and to be a living chronicle, not of your actions only, but of your
thoughts.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
An excellent definition of the fellow, Miss O'Carroll,--excellent,
upon my honour. Ha! ha! he! Heigho! Laughter is pleasant, but the
exertion is too much for me.
A parcel was brought in for Mr Listless; it had been sent express.
Fatout was summoned to unpack it; and it proved to contain a new
novel, and a new poem, both of which had long been anxiously expected
by the whole host of fashionable readers; and the last number of a
popular Review, of which the editor and his coadjutors were in high
favour at court, and enjoyed ample pensions[5] for their services to
church and state. As Fatout left the room, Mr Flosky entered, and
curiously inspected the literary arrivals.
MR FLOSKY
(_Turning over the leaves._) 'Devilman, a novel.' Hm. Hatred--revenge--
misanthropy--and quotations from the Bible. Hm. This is the morbid
anatomy of black bile.--'Paul Jones, a poem.' Hm. I see how it is.
Paul Jones, an amiable enthusiast--disappointed in his affections--
turns pirate from ennui and magnanimity--cuts various masculine
throats, wins various feminine hearts--is hanged at the yard-arm! The
catastrophe is very awkward, and very unpoetical.--'The Downing Street
Review.' Hm. First article--An Ode to the Red Book, by Roderick
Sackbut, Esquire. Hm. His own poem reviewed by himself. Hm--m--m.
(_Mr Flosky proceeded in silence to look over the other articles
of the review; Marionetta inspected the novel, and Mr Listless the
poem._)
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
For a young man of fashion and family, Mr Listless, you seem to be of
a very studious turn.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
Studious! You are pleased to be facetious, Mr Larynx. I hope you do
not suspect me of being studious. I have finished my education. But
there are some fashionable books that one must read, because they are
ingredients of the talk of the day; otherwise, I am no fonder of books
than I dare say you yourself are, Mr Larynx.
THE REVEREND MR LARYNX
Why, sir, I cannot say that I am indeed particularly fond of books;
yet neither can I say that I never do read. A tale or a poem, now and
then, to a circle of ladies over their work, is no very heterodox
employment of the vocal energy. And I must say, for myself, that
few men have a more Job-like endurance of the eternally recurring
questions and answers that interweave themselves, on these occasions,
with the crisis of an adventure, and heighten the distress of a
tragedy.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
And very often make the distress when the author has omitted it.
MARIONETTA
I shall try your patience some rainy morning, Mr Larynx; and Mr
Listless shall recommend us the very newest new book, that every body
reads.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
You shall receive it, Miss O'Carroll, with all the gloss of novelty;
fresh as a ripe green-gage in all the downiness of its bloom. A
mail-coach copy from Edinburgh, forwarded express from London.
MR FLOSKY
This rage for novelty is the bane of literature. Except my works and
those of my particular friends, nothing is good that is not as old as
Jeremy Taylor: and, _entre nous_, the best parts of my friends' books
were either written or suggested by myself.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
Sir, I reverence you. But I must say, modern books are very
consolatory and congenial to my feelings. There is, as it were, a
delightful north-east wind, an intellectual blight breathing through
them; a delicious misanthropy and discontent, that demonstrates the
nullity of virtue and energy, and puts me in good humour with myself
and my sofa.
MR FLOSKY
Very true, sir. Modern literature is a north-east wind--a blight of
the human soul. I take credit to myself for having helped to make it
so. The way to produce fine fruit is to blight the flower. You call
this a paradox. Marry, so be it. Ponder thereon.
The conversation was interrupted by the re-appearance of Mr Toobad,
covered with mud. He just showed himself at the door, muttered 'The
devil is come among you!' and vanished. The road which connected
Nightmare Abbey with the civilised world, was artificially raised
above the level of the fens, and ran through them in a straight line
as far as the eye could reach, with a ditch on each side, of which the
water was rendered invisible by the aquatic vegetation that covered
the surface. Into one of these ditches the sudden action of a
shy horse, which took fright at a windmill, had precipitated the
travelling chariot of Mr Toobad, who had been reduced to the necessity
of scrambling in dismal plight through the window. One of the wheels
was found to be broken; and Mr Toobad, leaving the postilion to
get the chariot as well as he could to Claydyke for the purpose of
cleaning and repairing, had walked back to Nightmare Abbey, followed
by his servant with the imperial, and repeating all the way his
favourite quotation from the Revelations.
* * * * *
CHAPTER VI
Mr Toobad had found his daughter Celinda in London, and after the
first joy of meeting was over, told her he had a husband ready for
her. The young lady replied, very gravely, that she should take the
liberty to choose for herself. Mr Toobad said he saw the devil was
determined to interfere with all his projects, but he was resolved
on his own part, not to have on his conscience the crime of passive
obedience and non-resistance to Lucifer, and therefore she should
marry the person he had chosen for her. Miss Toobad replied, _très
posément_, she assuredly would not. 'Celinda, Celinda,' said Mr
Toobad, 'you most assuredly shall.'--'Have I not a fortune in my own
right, sir?' said Celinda. 'The more is the pity,' said Mr Toobad:
'but I can find means, miss; I can find means. There are more ways
than one of breaking in obstinate girls.' They parted for the night
with the expression of opposite resolutions, and in the morning the
young lady's chamber was found empty, and what was become of her Mr
Toobad had no clue to conjecture. He continued to investigate town and
country in search of her; visiting and revisiting Nightmare Abbey at
intervals, to consult with his friend, Mr Glowry. Mr Glowry agreed
with Mr Toobad that this was a very flagrant instance of filial
disobedience and rebellion; and Mr Toobad declared, that when he
discovered the fugitive, she should find that 'the devil was come unto
her, having great wrath.'
In the evening, the whole party met, as usual, in the library.
Marionetta sat at the harp; the Honourable Mr Listless sat by her and
turned over her music, though the exertion was almost too much
for him. The Reverend Mr Larynx relieved him occasionally in this
delightful labour. Scythrop, tormented by the demon Jealousy, sat in
the corner biting his lips and fingers. Marionetta looked at him every
now and then with a smile of most provoking good humour, which he
pretended not to see, and which only the more exasperated his troubled
spirit. He took down a volume of Dante, and pretended to be deeply
interested in the Purgatorio, though he knew not a word he was
reading, as Marionetta was well aware; who, tripping across the room,
peeped into his book, and said to him, 'I see you are in the middle of
Purgatory.'--'I am in the middle of hell,' said Scythrop furiously.
'Are you?' said she; 'then come across the room, and I will sing you
the finale of Don Giovanni.'
'Let me alone,' said Scythrop. Marionetta looked at him with a
deprecating smile, and said, 'You unjust, cross creature, you.'--'Let
me alone,' said Scythrop, but much less emphatically than at first,
and by no means wishing to be taken at his word. Marionetta left him
immediately, and returning to the harp, said, just loud enough for
Scythrop to hear--'Did you ever read Dante, Mr Listless? Scythrop
is reading Dante, and is just now in Purgatory.'--'And I' said the
Honourable Mr Listless, 'am not reading Dante, and am just now in
Paradise,' bowing to Marionetta.
MARIONETTA
You are very gallant, Mr Listless; and I dare say you are very fond of
reading Dante.
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
I don't know how it is, but Dante never came in my way till lately. I
never had him in my collection, and if I had had him I should not have
read him. But I find he is growing fashionable, and I am afraid I must
read him some wet morning.
MARIONETTA
No, read him some evening, by all means. Were you ever in love, Mr
Listless?
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
I assure you, Miss O'Carroll, never--till I came to Nightmare Abbey.
I dare say it is very pleasant; but it seems to give so much trouble
that I fear the exertion would be too much for me.
MARIONETTA
Shall I teach you a compendious method of courtship, that will give
you no trouble whatever?
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
You will confer on me an inexpressible obligation. I am all impatience
to learn it.
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