The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb Volume IV Part 70

MRS. FRAMPTON 'Tis no such serious matter. It was--Huntingdon.

SELBY How have three little syllables pluck'd from me A world of countless hopes!-- [_Aside_.]

Evasive Widow.

MRS. FRAMPTON How, Sir! I like not this.

[_Aside_.]

SELBY No, no, I meant Nothing but good to thee. That other woman, How shall I call her but evasive, false, And treacherous?--by the trust I place in thee, Tell me, and tell me truly, was the name As you p.r.o.nounced it?

MRS. FRAMPTON Huntingdon--the name, Which his paternal grandfather a.s.sumed, Together with the estates, of a remote Kinsman; but our high-spirited youth--

SELBY Yes--

MRS. FRAMPTON Disdaining For sordid pelf to truck the family honours, At risk of the lost estates, resumed the old style, And answer'd only to the name of--

SELBY What?

MRS. FRAMPTON Of Halford--

SELBY A Huntingdon to Halford changed so soon!

Why, then I see, a witch hath her good spells, As well as bad, and can by a backward charm Unruffle the foul storm she has just been raising.

[_Aside_.]

[_He makes the signal._]

My frank, fair spoken Widow! let this kiss, Which yet aspires no higher, speak my thanks, Till I can think on greater.

_Enter_ LUCY _and_ KATHERINE.

MRS. FRAMPTON Interrupted!

SELBY My sister here! and see, where with her comes My serpent gliding in an angel's form, To taint the new-born Eden of our joys.

Why should we fear them? We'll not stir a foot, Nor coy it for their pleasures.

[_He courts the Widow_.]

LUCY (_to Katherine_.)

This your free, And sweet ingenuous confession, binds me For ever to you; and it shall go hard, But it shall fetch you back your husband's heart, That now seems blindly straying; or at worst, In me you have still a sister.--Some wives, brother, Would think it strange to catch their husbands thus Alone with a trim widow; but your Katherine Is arm'd, I think, with patience.

KATHERINE I am fortified With knowledge of self-faults to endure worse wrongs, If they be wrongs, than he can lay upon me; Even to look on, and see him sue in earnest, As now I think he does it but in seeming, To that ill woman.

SELBY Good words, gentle Kate, And not a thought irreverent of our Widow.

Why, 'twere unmannerly at any time, But most uncourteous on our wedding day, When we should shew most hospitable.--Some wine.

[_Wine is brought_.]

I am for sports. And now I do remember, The old Egyptians at their banquets placed A charnel sight of dead men's skulls before them, With images of cold mortality, To temper their fierce joys when they grew rampant.

I like the custom well: and ere we crown With freer mirth the day, I shall propose, In calmest recollection of our spirits, We drink the solemn "Memory of the dead."

MRS. FRAMPTON Or the supposed dead.

[_Aside to him_.]

SELBY Pledge me, good wife.

[_She fills_.]

Nay, higher yet, till the brimm'd cup swell o'er.

KATHERINE I catch the awful import of your words; And, though I could accuse you of unkindness, Yet as your lawful and obedient wife, While that name lasts (as I perceive it fading, Nor I much longer may have leave to use it) I calmly take the office you impose; And on my knees, imploring their forgiveness, Whom I in heav'n or earth may have offended, Exempt from starting tears, and woman's weakness, I pledge you, Sir--the Memory of the Dead!

[_She drinks kneeling_.]

SELBY 'Tis gently and discreetly said, and like My former loving Kate.

MRS. FRAMPTON Does he relent?

[_Aside_.]

SELBY That ceremony past, we give the day To unabated sport. And, in requital Of certain stories, and quaint allegories, Which my rare Widow hath been telling to me To raise my morning mirth, if she will lend Her patient hearing, I will here recite A Parable; and, the more to suit her taste, The scene is laid in the East.

MRS. FRAMPTON I long to hear it.

Some tale, to fit his wife.

[_Aside_.]

KATHERINE Now, comes my TRIAL.

LUCY The hour of your deliverance is at hand, If I presage right. Bear up, gentlest sister.

SELBY "The Sultan Haroun"--Stay--O now I have it-- "The Caliph Haroun in his orchards had A fruit-tree, bearing such delicious fruits, That he reserved them for his proper gust; And through the Palace it was Death proclaim'd To any one that should purloin the same."

MRS. FRAMPTON A heavy penance for so light a fault--

SELBY Pray you, be silent, else you put me out.

"A crafty page, that for advantage watch'd, Detected in the act a brother page, Of his own years, that was his bosom friend; And thenceforth he became that other's lord, And like a tyrant he demean'd himself, Laid forced exactions on his fellow's purse; And when that poor means fail'd, held o'er his head Threats of impending death in hideous forms; Till the small culprit on his nightly couch Dream'd of strange pains, and felt his body writhe In tortuous pangs around the impaling stake."

MRS. FRAMPTON I like not this beginning--

SELBY Pray you, attend.

"The Secret, like a night-hag, rid his sleeps, And took the youthful pleasures from his days, And chased the youthful smoothness from his brow, That from a rose-cheek'd boy he waned and waned To a pale skeleton of what he was; And would have died, but for one lucky chance."

KATHERINE Oh!

MRS. FRAMPTON Your wife--she faints--some cordial--smell to this.

SELBY Stand off. My sister best will do that office.

MRS. FRAMPTON Are all his tempting speeches come to this?

[_Aside_.]

SELBY What ail'd my wife?

KATHERINE A warning faintness, sir, Seized on my spirits, when you came to where You said "a lucky chance." I am better now, Please you go on.

SELBY The sequel shall be brief.