Book 2, Chapter 11 of the Female Quixote, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Female Quixote, Volume 1 by Charlotte Lennox. Book 2, Chapter 11, in which the lady is wonderfully delivered. But to return to Arabella, whom we left in a very melancholy situation, Lucy had not been gone long from her before she opened her eyes, and beginning to come perfectly to herself, was surprised to find her woman not near her. The moon shining very bright, she looked round her, and called Lucy as loud as she was able, but not seeing her or hearing any answer, her fears became so powerful that she had liked to have relapsed into her swoon.  She is now with my ravisher, directing his pursuit, and I have no means of escaping from his hands. Cruel and ungrateful wench, thy unparalleled treachery grieves me no less than all my other misfortunes. But why do I say her treachery is unparalleled? Should not the wicked Arianta betray her mistress into the power of her insolent lover? Ah, Arabella, thou art not single in thy misery, since the divine Mandana was, like thyself, the dupe of a mercenary servant. Having given a moment or two to these sad reflections, she rose from the ground with an intention to walk on, but her ankle was so painful that she could hardly move. Her tears began now to flow with greater violence. She expected every moment to see Edward approach her, and was resigning herself up to despair when a sheis driven by a young gentleman passed by her. Arabella, thanking heaven for sending this relief, called out as loud as she could, conjuring him to stay. The gentleman, hearing a woman's voice, stopped immediately and asked what she wanted. Generous stranger, said Arabella, advancing as well as she was able, do not refuse your assistance to save me from a most terrible danger. I am pursued by a person whom, for very urgent reasons, I desire to avoid. I conjure you, therefore, in the name of her you love best, to protect me, and may you be crowned with the enjoyment of all your wishes, for so charitable in action. If the gentleman was surprised at this address, he was much more astonished at the beauty of her who made it. Her stature, her shape, her inhibitable complexion, the luster of her fine eyes, and the thousand charms that adorned her whole person, kept him a minute silently gazing upon her, without having the power to make her an answer. Arabella, finding he did not speak, was extremely disappointed. Ah, sir, said she, what do you deliberate upon? Is it possible you can deny so reasonable a request to a lady in my circumstances? For God's sake, madam, said the gentleman, alighting and approaching her, let me know who you are and how I can be of any service to you. As for my quality, said Arabella, be assured it is not mean, and let this knowledge suffice at present. The service I desire of you is to convey me to some place where I may be in safety for this night. Tomorrow I will entreat you to let some persons, whom I shall name to you, know where I am, to the end that they may take proper measures to secure me from the attempts of an insolent man who has driven me from my own house by the designs he was going to execute. The gentleman saw there was some mystery in her case, which she did not choose to explain, and being extremely glad at having so beautiful a creature in his power, told her she might command him in all she pleased, and helping her into the shays drove off as fast as he could. Arabella suffering no apprehensions from being alone with a stranger, since nothing was more common to heroines than such adventures, all her fears being of Edward, whom she fancied every moment she saw pursuing them. For being extremely anxious to be in some place of safety, she urged her protector to drive as fast as possible, who, willing to have her at his own house, complied with her request, but was so unlucky in his haste as to overturn the shays. Though neither Arabella nor himself were hurt by the fall, yet the necessity there was to stay some time to put the shays in a condition to carry them any further, filled her with a thousand apprehensions, lest they should be overtaken. In the meantime, the servants of Arabella, among whom Edward, not knowing how much he was concerned in her flight, was resolved to distinguish himself by his yield in searching for her, had dispersed themselves about in different places. Chance conducted Edward to the very spot where she was. When Arabella perceiving him while he was two or three paces off, "'Oh, sir,' cried she, "'behold, my persecutor, can you resolve to defend me against the violence he comes to offer me?' The gentleman, looking up, and seeing a man in livery approaching them, asked her if that was the person she complained of, and if he was her servant. "'If he is my servant, sir,' replied she, blushing, "'he never had my permission to be so, and indeed no one else can boast of my having granted them such a liberty.' "'Do you know whose servant he is, then, madam?' replied the gentleman, a little surprised at her answer, which he could not well understand. "'You throw me into a great embarrassment, sir,' resumed Arabella, blushing more than before. "'Questionless, he appears to be mine, but since, as I told you before, he never discovered himself to me, and I never permitted him to assume that title. His services, if ever I received any from him, were not at all considered by me as things for which I was obliged to him.' The gentleman, still more amazed at answers so little to the purpose, was going to desire her to explain herself upon this strange affair, when Edward, coming up close to Arabella, cried out in a transport, "'Oh, madam, thank God you are found!' "'Hold, imbeous man,' said Arabella, and do not give thanks for that which, happily, may prove thy punishment. If I am found, thou wilt be no better for it, and if thou continuous to persecute me, thou wilt probably meet with thy death, where thou thinkest thou hast found thy happiness.'" The poor fellow, who understood not a word of this discourse, stared upon her like one that had lost his wits. When the protector of Arabella, approaching him, asked him with a stern look, "'What he had to say to that lady, and why he presumed to follow her?' As the man was going to answer him, Mr. Glanville came galloping up, and Edward, seeing him, ran up to him, and informed him that he had met with Lady Bella, and a gentleman who seemed to have been overturned in a she-ase, which he was endeavoring to refit, and that her ladyship was offended with him for coming up to her, and also that the gentleman had used some threatening language to him upon that account. Mr. Glanville, excessively surprised at what he heard, stopped and ordered a servant who came along with him to run back to the castle and bring a she-ase thither to carry Lady Bella home. He asked Edward several more questions relating to what she and the gentleman had said to him, and notwithstanding his knowledge of her ridiculous humor, he could not help being alarmed by her behavior, nor concluding that there was something very mysterious in the affair. While he was thus conversing with Edward, Arabella, who had spied him almost as soon, was filled with apprehension to see him hold so quiet a parley with her ravisher. The more she reflected upon this accident, the more her suspicions increased, and persuading herself at last that Mr. Glanville was privy to his designs, this belief, however improbable, wrought so powerfully upon her imagination that she could not restrain her tears. Doubtless, said she, I am betrayed, and the perjured Glanville is no longer either my friend or lover. He is this moment concerning measures with my ravisher how to deliver me into his power, and like Philly D'Aspace, is glad of an opportunity by this treachery to be rid of a woman whom his parents and hers had destined for his wife. Mr. Glanville, having learned all he could from Edward, alighted, and giving him his horse to hold, came up to Arabella, and after expressing his joy at meeting with her, begged her to let him know what accident had brought her unattended from the castle at that time of night. If by this question, said the incensed Arabella, you would persuade me you are ignorant of the cause of my flight, no, your dissimulation will not succeed, and that, having reason to believe you are equally guilty with him from whose intended violence I fled, I shall have recourse to the valor of this night you see with me to defend me, as well against you as that ravisher, with whom I see you leaked. Ah, unworthy cousin, pursued she, what dost thou propose to thyself by so black a treachery? What is to be the price of my liberty which thou so freely disposed of? Hast thy friend here? said she, pointing to Edward. A sister, or any relation, for whom thou barterest, by delivering me up to him? But assure thyself, this stratagem shall be of no use to thee. For if thou art base enough to oppress my valiant deliverer with numbers, and thinkest by violence to get me into thy power, my cries shall arm heaven and earth in my defense. Providence may, happily, send some generous cavaliers to my rescue, and if Providence fails me, my own hand shall give me freedom. For that moment thou offerest to seize me, that moment shall be the last of my life. While Arabello was speaking, the young gentleman and Edward, who listened to her, eagerly, thought her brain was disturbed.  For heaven's sake, cousin, said he, striving to repress some part of his disorder, do not give way to these extravagant notions. There is nobody intends to do you any wrong. What, interrupted she, would you persuade me that that impostor there, pointing to Edward, has not a design to carry me away, which you, by supporting him, are not equally guilty of? Who, I, madam, cried out Edward, surely your ladyship does not suspect me of such a strange design? God knows I never thought of such a thing. Ah, dissembler, interrupted Arabella, do not make use of that sacred name to mask thy impious falsehoods. Confess with what intent you came into my father's service disguised. I never came disguised, madam, returned Edward. No, said Arabella, what means that dress in which I see you then? Does the marquee's livery, madam, said Edward, which he did not order to be taken from you when I left his service. And with what purpose did thou wear it, said she, do not your thoughts accuse you of your crime? I always hoped, madam, said he. You hoped, interrupted Arabella, frowning, did I ever give you reason to hope?  I know, madam, you had compassion on me, said Edward, for your ladyship I always thought did not believe me guilty. I was weak enough, said she, to have compassion on you, though I did believe you guilty. Indeed, madam, returned Edward, I always hoped, as I said before, but your ladyship would not hear me out, that you did not believe any malicious reports, and therefore you had compassion on me. I had no reports of you, said she, but what my own observation gave me, and that was sufficient to convince me of your fault. Why, madam, said Edward, did your ladyship see me steal the carp then, which was the fault unjustly laid to my charge? Mr. Glanville, as much cause as he had for uneasiness, could with great difficulty restrain laughter at this ludicrous circumstance, for he guessed what crime Arabello was accusing him of. As for the young gentleman, he could not conceive what she meant, and longed to hear what would be the end of such a strange conference. But poor Arabello was prodigiously confounded at his mentioning so low an affair, not being able to endure that Glanville and her protector should know a lover of hers could be suspected of so base a theft. The shame she conceived at it kept her silent for a moment, but recovering herself at last — No, said she, I knew you better than to give any credit to such an idle report. Persons of your condition do not commit such paltry crimes. Upon my soul, madam, said the young gentleman, persons of his condition often do worse. I don't deny it, sir, said Arabello, and the design he meditated of carrying me away was infinitely worse. Really madam, returned the gentleman, if you are such a person as I apprehend, I don't see how he durst makes such an attempt. It is very possible, sir, said she, that I might be carried away, though I was of greater quality than I am. Were not Mandana, Candice, Glalia, and many other ladies who underwent the same fate of a quality more illustrious than mine? Really madam, said he, I know none of these ladies. No, sir, said Arabello, extremely mortified. Let me entreat you, cousin, interrupted Glanville, who feared this dispute would be very tedious. To expose yourself no longer to the air at this time of night, suffer me to conduct you home. It concerns my honor, said she, that this generous stranger should not think I am the only one that was ever exposed to these insolent attempts. You say, sir, pursued she, that you don't know any of these ladies I mentioned before. Let me ask you, then, if you are acquainted with Parthenisa or Cleopatra, who were both for some months in the hands of their ravisher. As for Parthenisa, madam, neither have I heard of her nor do I remember to have heard of any more than one Cleopatra, but she was never ravished, I am certain, for she was too willing. How, sir, said Arabello, was Cleopatra ever willing to run away with her ravisher? Cleopatra was a whore, was she not, madam, said he? Hold thy peace, unworthy man, said Arabello, and profane not the memory of that fair and glorious queen by such injurious language. That queen, I say, whose courage was equal to her beauty, and her virtue surpassed by neither, good heavens, but a black defamer have I chosen for my protector. Mr. Glanville, rejoicing to see Arabello in a disposition to be offended with her new acquaintance, resolved to soothe her a little in hopes of prevailing upon her to return home. Sir, said he to the gentleman, who could not conceive why the lady should so warmly defend Cleopatra. You were in the wrong to cast such reflections upon that great queen, repeating what he had heard his cousin say before. For all the world, pursued he, knows she was married to Julius Caesar. Though I commend you, said Arabello, for taking the part of the lady so basely vilified, yet let not your zeal for her honor induce you to say more than is true for its justification, for thereby you weaken instead of strengthening what may be said in her defense. One falsehood always supposes another, and renders all you can say suspected, whereas pure, unmixed truth carries conviction along with it and never fails to produce its desired effect. Suffer me, cousin, interrupted Glanville, to represent to you the inconvenience you will certainly feel by staying so late in the air. Give the justification of Cleopatra to some other opportunity, and take care of your own preservation. What is it you require of me, said Arabello, only, resumed Glanville, that you would be pleased to return to the castle where my sister and all your servants are inconsolable for your absence. But who can assure me, answered she, that I shall not, by returning home, enter voluntarily into my prison, for to say the truth I still more than suspect you abet the designs of this man, since I behold you in his party, and ready, no doubt, to draw your sword in his defense. How will you be able to clear yourself of this crime? Yet I will venture to return to my house, provided you will swear to me you will offer me no violence, with regard to your friend there, and also I insist that he, from this moment, disclaim all intentions of persecuting me, and banish himself from my presence forever. Upon this condition I pardon him, and will likewise pray to heaven to pardon him also. Speak, presumptuous unknown, said she to Edward, wilt thou accept above my pardon upon the terms I offer at thee, and wilt thou take thyself to some place where I may never behold thee again? Since your ladyship, said Edward, is resolved not to receive me into your service. I shan't trouble you any more, but I think it hard to be punished for a crime I was not guilty of. Tis better, said Arabello, turning from him, that thou shouldst complain of my rigour than the world tax me with lightness and indiscretion. And now, sir, said she to Glanville, I must trust myself to your honour, which I confess I do a little suspect. But, however, tis possible you have repented, like the poor prince Thrasybulus, when he submitted to the suggestions of a wicked friend to carry away the fair Alsionida, whom he afterwards restored.   Pray let me see you safe home, and then, if you please, you may forbid my entrance into the castle, if you suspect me of any bad intentions toward you. Tis enough, said she, I will trust you. As for you, sir, speaking to the young gentleman, you are so unworthy in my apprehensions by the calamities you have uttered against a person of that sex, which merits all your admiration and reverence, that I hold you very unfit to be a protector of any of it. Therefore I dispense with your services upon this occasion, and think it better to trust myself to the conduct of a person, who, like Thrasybulus, by his repentance has restored himself to my confidence, than to one who, though indeed he has never betrayed me, yet seems very capable of doing so if he had the power. She gave her hand to Glanville, who helped her into the shays that was come from the castle, and the servant who brought it, mounting his horse, Mr. Glanville drove her home, leaving the gentleman who, by this time, had refitted his shays in the greatest astonishment imaginable at her unaccountable behavior. CHAPTER 1 TWO CONVERSATIONS OUT OF WHICH THE READER MAY PICK UP A GREAT DEAL Arabella, continuing to ruminate upon her adventure during their little journey, appeared so low and reserved that Mr. Glanville, though he ardently wished to know all the particulars of her flight, and meeting with that gentleman whose company he found her in, was obliged to suppress his curiosity for the present, out of a fear of displeasing her. As soon as they alighted at the castle, her servants ran to receive her at the gates, expressing their joy to see her again by a thousand confused exclamations. Ms. Glanville, being at her toilet when she heard of her arrival, ran down to welcome her in her hurry forgetting that as her woman had been curling her hair she had no cap on. Arabella received her compliments with the little coolness, for observing that her grief for her absence had not made her neglect any of her usual solicitude about her person, she could not conceive it had been very great. Therefore when she had made some slight answer to the hundred questions she asked in a breath, she went up to her apartment, and, calling Lucy, who was crying with joy for her return, she questioned her strictly concerning her leaving her in the fields, acknowledging to her that she suspected her fidelity, though she wished at the same time she might be able to clear herself. Lucy in her justification related, after her punctual way, all that had happened, by which Arabella was convinced she had not betrayed her, and was also in some doubt whether Mr. Glanville was guilty of any design against her. Since, said she to Lucy, thou art restored to my good opinion, I will, as I have always done, unmask my thoughts to thee. I confess, then, with shame and confusion, that I cannot think of Mr. Glanville's assisting the unknown to carry me away, without resenting a most poignant grief. Questionless my weakness will surprise thee, and could I conceal it from myself I would from thee, but alas it is certain that I do not hate him, and I believe I never shall guilty as he may be in my apprehensions. Hate him, madam, said Lucy.  You are very confident, Lucy, said Arabella, blushing, to mention the word love to me. If I thought my cousin had bribed thee to it, I should be greatly incensed. However, though I forbid you to talk of his passion, yet I permit you to tell me the violence of his transports when I was missing, the threats he uttered against my ravishers, the complaints he made against fortune, the vows he offered for my preservation, and, in fine, whatever extravagance is the excess of his sorrow forced him to commit. I assure you, madam, said Lucy, I did not hear him say any of all this. What, interrupted Arabella, and didst thou not observe the tears trickle from his eyes, which, happily, he strove to conceal? Did he not strike his bosom with the vehemence of his grief, and cast his accusing and despairing eyes to heaven, which had permitted such a misfortune to befall me? Indeed, madam, I did not, resumed Lucy, but he seemed to be very sorry, and said he would go and look for your ladyship. Ah, the traitor, interrupted Arabella in a rage. I mean would I have found out some excuse for him, and justified him in my apprehensions, but he is unworthy of these favorable thoughts. Speak of him no more. I command you. He is guilty of assisting my ravisher to carry me away, and therefore merits my eternal displeasure. But though I could find reasons to clear him even of that crime, yet he is guilty of indifference and insensibility for my loss, since he neither died with grief at the news of it, nor needed the interposition of his sister, or the desire of delivering me to make him live. Arabella, when she had said this, was silent, but could not prevent some tears from stealing down her fair face. Therefore to conceal her uneasiness, or to be more at liberty to indulge it, she ordered Lucy to make haste and undress her, and going to bed past the small remainder of the night, not in rest, which she very much needed, but in reflections on all the passages of the preceding day, and finding, or imagining, she found, new reasons for condemning Mr. Glanville, her mind was very far from being at ease. In the morning, lying later than usual, she received a message from Mr. Glanville inquiring after her health, to which she answered that he was too little concerned in the preservation of it to make it necessary to acquaint him. Miss Glanville soon after sent to desire permission to drink her chocolate by her bedside, which as she could not in civility refuse, she was very much perplexed how to hide her melancholy from the eyes of that discerning lady, who, she questioned not, would interpret it in favor of her brother. Upon Miss Glanville's appearance she forced herself to assume a cheerful look, asking her pardon for receiving her in bed, and complaining of bad rest which had occasioned her lying late. Miss Glanville after answering her compliments with almost equal politeness, proceeded to ask her in hundred questions concerning the cause of her absence from the castle. Your woman, pursued she, laughing, told us a strange medley of stuff about a great man who was a gardener and wanted to carry you away. Sure there was nothing in it, was there? You must excuse me, cousin, said Arabella, if I do not answer your questions precisely now, to sufficient that I tell you, certain reasons obliged me to act in the manner I did, for my own preservation, and that another time you shall know my history, which will explain many things you seem to be surprised at at present. Your history, said Miss Glanville, why will you write your own history then? I shall not write it, said Arabella, though questionless it will be written after my death. And must I wait till then for it, resumed Miss Glanville gaily? No, no, interrupted Arabella, I mean to gratify your curiosity sooner, but it will not be yet a good time, and happily, not till you have acquainted me with yours. Mine, said Miss Glanville, it would not be worth your hearing, for really I have nothing to tell that would make an history. You have questionless, returned Arabella, gain many victories over hearts, have occasioned many quarrels between your servants, by favouring some one more than the others. Probably you have caused some bloodshed, and have not escaped being carried away once or twice.   I am sure there is not one man in a hundred that would take so much from your hands as he does. Then there is not one man in a hundred, resumed Arabella, whom I should think worthy to serve me. But pray, madam, what ill usage is it your brother complains of? I have treated him with much less severity than he had reason to expect, and notwithstanding he had the presumption to talk to me of love. I have endured him in my sight and indulgence for which I may happily be blamed in after-ages. Why, sure, Lady Bella, said Miss Glanville, it would be no such crime for my brother to love you. But it was a mortal crime to tell me so, interrupted Arabella. And why was it such a mortal crime to tell you so, said Miss Glanville? Are you the first woman by millions that has ever been told? Doubtless, returned Arabella, I am the first woman of my quality that was ever told so by any man, till after an infinite number of services and secret sufferings. And truly I am of the illustrious Mandana's mind, for she said that she should think it an unpardonable presumption for the greatest king on earth to tell her he loved her, though after ten years of the most faithful services and concealed torments. Ten years, cried out Miss Glanville in amazement, did she consider what alterations ten years would make in her face, and how much older she would be at the end of ten years than she was before? Truly, said Arabella, it is not usual to consider such little matters so nicely. One never has the idea of an heroine older than eighteen, though her history begins at that age, and the events which compose it contain the space of twenty more. But dear cousin, resumed Miss Glanville, do you resolve to be ten years a courting? Or rather, will you be loved in silence ten years and be courted the other ten, and so marry when you are an old woman? Pardon me, cousin, resumed Arabella, I must really find fault with the coarseness of your language. Courting an old woman, what strange terms!  If you have anything to say in justification of your brother, which I suppose was the chief intention of your visit, I shall not be rude enough to restrain you, though I could wish you would not lay me under the necessity of hearing what I cannot persuade myself to believe. Since, returned Miss Glanville, I know of no crime my brother has been guilty of, I have nothing to say in his justification. I only know that he is very much mortified at the message you sent him this morning. For I was with him when he received it. But pray, what has he done to offend you? If Mr. Glanville, interrupted Arabella, hopes for my pardon, he must precious it by his repentance, and a sincere confession of his fault, which you may much better understand from himself than from me. And for this purpose I will condescend to grant him a private audience at which I desire you would be present, and also I should take it well if you will let him know that he owes this favor wholly to your interposition. Miss Glanville, who knew her brother was extremely desirous of seeing Arabella, was glad to accept of these strange terms, and left her chamber in order to acquaint him with that lady's intentions. CHAPTER II. A SOLUMN INTERVIEW. In the meantime, that fair one, being risen and negligently dressed, as was her custom, went into her closet, sending to give Miss Glanville notice that she was ready to see her. This message immediately brought both the brother and the sister to her apartment, and Miss Glanville at her brother's request, staying in the chamber, where she busied herself in looking at her cousin's jewels which lay upon the toilet, he came alone into the closet, in so much confusion at the thoughts of the ridiculous figure he made in complying with Arabella's fantastical humors, that his looks persuading her, there was some great agitation in his mind, she expected to see him fall at her feet and endeavor to deprecate her wrath by a deluge of tears. Mr. Glanville, however, disappointed her in that respect. For taking a seat near her, he began to entreat her with a smiling countenance, to tell him in what he had offended her, protesting that he was not conscious of doing or saying anything to displease her. Arabella was greatly confused at this question, which she thought she had no reason to expect, it not being possible for her to tell him she was offended that he was not in absolute despair for her absence, without, at the same time, confessing she looked upon him in the light of a lover whose expressions of a violent passion would not have displeased her. Therefore to disengage herself from the perplexity his question threw her into, she was obliged to offer some violence to her ingenuousness, and contrary to her real belief, tax him again with the design of betraying her into the powers of the unknown. Mr. Glanville, though excessively vexed at her persisting in so ridiculous an error, could hardly help smiling at the stern manner in which she spoke, but knowing of what fatal consequence it would be to him, if he indulged any gaiety in so solemn a conference, he composed his looks to a gravity suitable to the occasion, and asked her in a very submissive tone what motive she was pleased to assign for so extraordinary a piece of villainy as that she supposed him guilty of. Truly, answered she, blushing, I do not pretend to account for the actions of wicked and ungenerous persons. But madam, resumed Glanville, if I must needs be suspected of a design to seize upon your person, me thinks it would have been more reasonable to suppose I would rather use that violence in favor of my own pretensions than those of any other whatever, for though you have expressly forbidden me to tell you I love you, yet I hope you still continue to think I do.  Therefore if you are wise, you will not renew the remembrance of those follies I have long since pardoned, nor seek occasions of offending me by new ones of the same kind, lest in produce a more severe sentence than that I formerly laid upon you. Never, madam, returned Mr. Glanville, you must suffer me to assure you that my own interest, which was greatly concerned in your safety, and my principles of honor, would never allow me to engage in so villainous an enterprise, as that of abetting any person in stealing you away, nor can I conceive how you possibly could imagine a fellow who was your menial servant could form so presumptuous and dangerous a design. By your manner of speaking, resumed Arabella, one would imagine you were really ignorant, both of the quality of that presumptuous man as well as his design defense.  Had I not the evidence of my own senses for your guilt, I must confess I could not be persuaded of it by any other means. Therefore since appearances are certainly against you, it is not strange if I cannot consent to acquit you in my apprehensions till I have more certain confirmation of your innocence than your bare testimony only, which at present has not all the weight with me it had some time ago. I protest, madam, said Mr. Glanville, who is strangely perplexed. I have reason to think my case extremely hard, since I have brought myself to be suspected by you only through my eagerness to find you, and solicitude for your welfare. Doubtless, interrupted Arabella. If you are innocent your case is extremely hard, yet it is not singular, and therefore you have less reason to complain. The valiant Coriolanus, who was the most passionate and faithful lover imaginable, having, by his admirable valor, assisted the ravishers of his adored Cleopatra against those who came to rescue her, and by his arm alone, opposed to great numbers of their enemies, facilitated the execution of their design, had the mortification afterwards to know that he had, all that time, been fighting against that divine princess, who loaded him with the most cruel reproaches for the injury he had done her. Yet Fortune was so kind as to give him the means of repairing his fault, and restoring him to some part of her good opinion, for covered with wounds as he was, and fatigued with fighting before, yet he undertook, in that condition, to prevent her ravishers from carrying her off, and for several hours continued fighting alone with near two hundred men who were not able to overcome him, notwithstanding his extreme weariness and the multitude of blows which they aimed at him. Therefore Glanville, considering you, as Cleopatra did that unfortunate prince, who was before suspected by her as neither guilty nor innocent, I can only, like her, wish you may find some occasion of justifying yourself from the crime laid to your charge. Till then I must be under a necessity of banishing you from my presence, with the same consolatory speech she used to that unfortunate prince.  I desire you should affect it, no less than you do yourself. And if my prayers can obtain from heaven this favor for you, I shall not scruple to offer some in your behalf. CHAPTER III In which the interview is ended, not much to the lover's satisfaction, but exactly conformable to the rules of romance. Arabella, when she had pronounced these words, blushed excessively, thinking she had said too much, but not seeing any signs of extreme joy in the face of Glanville, who was silently cursing Cleopatra and the authors of these romances, that had ruined so noble a mind, and exposed him to perpetual vexations by the unaccountable whims they had raised, Why are you not gone, said she, while I am in an humor not to repent of the favor I have shown you? You must excuse me, cousin, said Glanville, peevishly, if I do not think so highly as you do of the favor. Pray how am I obliged to you for depriving me of the pleasure of seeing you, and sending me on a wild goose chase after occasions to justify myself of a crime I am wholly innocent of and would scorn to commit. Though, resumed Arabella, with great calmness, I have reason to be dissatisfied with the cool and unthankful manner in which you receive my indulgence, yet I shall not change the favorable disposition I am in towards you, unless you provoke me to it by new acts of disobedience. Therefore in the language of Cleopatra I shall tell you, upon my soul, madam, interrupted Glanville, I have no patience with that rigorous gypsy, whose example you follow so exactly, to my sorrow. Speak in your own language, I beseech you, for I am sure neither hers nor anyone's upon earth can excel it. Yet, said Arabella, striving to repress some inclination to smile at this sally, notwithstanding your unjust prohibitions, I shall make use of the language of that incomparable lady to tell you my thoughts, which are, that as possible you might be sufficiently justified in my apprehensions by the anxiety it now appears you had for my safety, by the probability which I find in your discourse and the good opinion I have of you, were it not requisite to make your innocence apparent to the world that so it might be lawful for Arabella to readmit you with honor into her former esteem and friendship. Mr. Glanville, seeing it would be in vain to attempt to make her alter her fantastical determination at this time, went out of the closet without daining to make any reply to his sentence, though delivered in the language of the admiral Cleopatra. But his ill humor was so visible in his face that Arabella, whom mistook it for an excess of despair, could not help feeling some kind of pity for the rigor which the laws of honor and romance obliged her to use him with. And while she sat meditating upon the scene which had just passed, Mr. Glanville returned to his own room, glad that his sister, not being in Arabella's chamber where he had left her, had no opportunity of observing his discontent which she would not fail to inquire the cause of. Here he sat, ruminating upon the follies of Arabella which he found grew more glaring every day. Everything furnished matter for some new extravagance. Her character was so ridiculous that he could propose nothing to himself but eternal shame and disquiet in the possession of a woman for whom he must always blush and be in pain. But her beauty had made a deep impression on his heart. He admired the strength of her understanding, her lively wit, the sweetness of her temper, and a thousand amiable qualities which distinguished her from the rest of her sex. Her follies, when opposed to all those charms of mind and person, seemed inconsiderable and weak, and though they were capable of giving him great uneasiness, yet they could not lessen a passion which every sight of her so much the more confirmed. As he feared it was impossible to help loving her, his happiness depended upon curing her of her romantic notions, and though he knew not how to affect such a change in her as was necessary to complete it, yet he would not despair but comforted himself with the hopes of what he had not courage to attempt. Sometimes he fancied company, and an acquaintance with the world would produce the alteration he wished.  While he traversed his chamber, wholly engrossed by these reflections, Miss Glanville was entertaining Sir George of whose coming she was informed while she was in Arabella's chamber. CHAPTER IV In which our heroine is greatly disappointed. Miss Glanville, supporting her brother would be glad not to be interrupted in his conference with Lady Bella, did not allow anyone to acquaint them with Sir George's visit, and telling the baronet her cousin was indisposed, had by these means all his conversation to herself. Sir George, who ardently wished to see Lady Bella, protracted his visit in hopes that he should have that satisfaction before he went away. And that fair lady whose thoughts prehended Mr. Glanville was in, and fearful of the consequences when she had sat some time after he left her ruminating upon what had happened, quitted her closet to go and inquire of Miss Glanville in what condition his mind seemed to be when he went away. For she never doubted but that he was gone, like Coriolanus, to seek out for some occasion to manifest his innocence. Hearing therefore the voice of that lady, who was talking and laughing very loud in one of the summer parlours, and being terrified with the apprehension that it was her brother with whom she was thus diverting herself, she opened the door of the room precipitately, and by her entrance filled Sir George with extreme pleasure, while her unexpected sights produced a quite contrary effect on Miss Glanville. Arabella, eased of her fear that it was Mr. Glanville, who instead of dying with despair was giving occasion for that noisy laugh of his sister, saluted the baronette with great civility, and, turning to Miss Glanville, said, "'I must need chide you,' she said, for the insensibility with which it appears you have parted with your brother.' "'Bless me, madam,' interrupted Miss Glanville, "'what do you mean?  But he has been with you doubtless to take his leave.' "'Take his leave,' reported Miss Glanville. "'Has he left the castle so suddenly, then, and gone away without me?' "'The enterprise on which he has gone,' said Arabella, "'would not admit of a lady's company, and since he has left so considerable and hostage with me as yourself, I expect he will not be long before he return, and I hope to the satisfaction of us both.'" Miss Glanville, who could not penetrate into the meaning of her cousin's words, began to be strangely alarmed, but presently, supposing she had a mind to divert herself with her fears, she recovered herself and told her she would go up to her brother's chamber and look for him. Arabella did not offer to prevent her, being very desirous of knowing whether he had not left a letter for her upon his table, as was the custom in those cases, and while she was gone, Sir George seized the opportunity of saying and the hundred garant things to her, which she received with great indifference, the most extravagant compliments being what she expected from all men, and provided they did not directly presume to tell her they loved her, no sort of flattery or adulation could displease her. In the meantime Miss Glanville, having found her brother in his chamber, repeated to him what Lady Bella had said, as she supposed, to fright her. Mr. Glanville, hearing this and that Sir George was with her, hastened to them as fast as possible, that he might interrupt the foolish stories he did not doubt she was telling. Upon Miss Glanville's appearance with her brother, Arabella was astonished. I apprehended, sir, said she, that you were some miles from the castle by this time, but your delay and indifference convinced me you neither expect nor wish to find the means of being justified in my opinion. Pray cousin, interrupted Glanville, speaking softly to her, let us leave this dispute to some other time. No, sir, resumed she, aloud, my honor is concerned in your justification, nor is it fit I should submit to have the appearance of amity for a person who has not yet sufficiently cleared himself of a crime, with too much reason laid to his charge. Did Coriolanus think you act in this manner? If he had, doubtless clear patcher would never have pardoned him. Nor will I any longer suffer you to give me repeated causes of discontent. Sir George, seeing confusion in Mr. Glanville's countenance and rage in Arabella's, began to think that what he had at first took for a jest was a serious quarrel between them, that which it was not proper he should be present, and was preparing to go, when Arabella, stopping him with a graceful action, said, If, double stranger, said she, you are so partial to the failings of a friend that you will undertake to defend any unjustifiable action he may be guilty of, you are at liberty to depart. But, if you will promise to be an unprejudiced hearer of the dispute between Mr. Glanville and myself, you shall know the adventure which has given rise to it, and will be charge of the reasonableness of the commands I have laid on him. Though, madam, says her George, bowing very low to her, Mr. Glanville is my friend, yet there is no likelihood I shall espouse his interest against yours, and a very strong prepossession I feel in favor of you already persuades me that I shall give sentence on your side, since you have honored me so far as to constitute me judge of this difference. The solemn manner in which Sir George, who began to suspect Lady Bella's peculiar turn, spoke this, pleased her infinitely. While Mr. Glanville, vexed as he was, could hardly forbear laughing, when Arabella, after a look of approbation to Sir George, replied, I find I have unwillingly engaged myself to more than I first intended, for to enable you to judge clearly of the matter in dispute, it is necessary you should know my whole history. Mr. Glanville, at this word, not being able to constrain himself, uttered a groan of the same nature with those which are often heard in the pit at the presentation of a new play. Sir George understood him perfectly well, yet seemed surprised, and Arabella, starting up, since, said she, I have given you no new cause of complaint, pray from whence proceeds this increase of affliction.  For this unaccountable humour of yours is not to be borne. You do not seem, replied Arabella, to be far from madness already, and if your friend here, upon hearing the passages between us, should pronounce you guilty, I shall be at a loss whether I ought to treat you as a madman or a criminal. Sir, added she, turning to Sir George, you will excuse me, if, for certain reasons, I can neither give you my history myself, nor be present at the relation of it. One of my women, who is most in my confidence, shall acquaint you with all the particulars of my life, after which I expect Mr. Glanville will abide by your decision, as I assure myself I shall be contented to do. Saying this, she went out of the parlor, in order to prepare Lucy for the recital she was to make. Mr. Glanville, resolving not to be present at this new absurdity, ran out after, and went into the garden, with a strong inclination to hate the lovely visionary who gave him such perpetual uneasiness, leaving his sister alone with the baronette, who diverted herself extremely with the thoughts of hearing her cousin's history, assuring the baronette that he might expect something very curious in it, and find matter sufficient to laugh at, for she was the most whimsical woman in the world. Sir George, who resolved to profit by the knowledge of her foible, made very little reply to Mr. Glanville's sneers, but waited patiently for the promised history, which was much longer coming than he imagined. Read by Bob Neufeld The Female Quixote Volume I by Charlotte Lennox Book III Chapter V Some curious instructions for relating and history. Arabella, as soon as she had left them, went up to her apartment, and calling Lucy into her closet, told her that she had made choice of her, since she was best acquainted with her thoughts, to relate her history to her cousins, and a person of quality who was with them. Sure, your ladyship jests with me, said Lucy. How can I make a history about your ladyship? There is no occasion, replied Arabella, for you to make a history. There are accidents enough in my life to afford matter for a long one. All you have to do is to relate them as exactly as possible. You have lived with me from my childhood, and are instructed at all my adventures, so that you must be certainly very capable of executing the task I have honoured you with. Indeed, said Lucy, I must beg your ladyship will excuse me. I never could tell how to repeat a story when I have read it. And I know it is not such simple girls as I can tell histories. It is only fit for clocks, and such sort of people that are very learned. You are learned enough for that purpose, said Arabella. And, if you make so much difficulty in performing this part of your duty, pray how come you to imagine you were fit for my service, and for the distinction I have favoured you with? Did you ever hear of any woman that refused to relate her ladys' story when desired? Therefore, if you hoped to possess my favour and confidence any longer, acquit yourself handsomely of this task to which I have preferred you. Lucy, terrified at the displeasure she saw in her ladys' countenance, begged her to tell her what she must say. Well, exclaimed Arabella, I am surgingly the most unfortunate woman in the world. Everything happens to me in a contrary manner than any other person. Here, instead of my desiring you to soften those parts of my history where you have greatest room to flatter, and to conceal, if possible, some of those disorders my beauty has occasioned, you ask me to tell you what you must say, as if it was not necessary you should know as well as myself, and be able not only to recount all my words and actions, even the smallest and most inconsiderable, but also all my thoughts, however instantaneous, relate exactly every change of my countenance, number all my smiles, half-smiles, blushes, turnings pale, glances, pauses, full stops, interruptions, the rise and falling of my voice, every motion of my eyes, and every gesture which I have used for these ten years past, nor omit the smallest circumstance that relates to me. Lord bless me, madam," said Lucy, excessively astonished, I never till this moment, it seems, knew the hundred thousandth part of what was expected from me. I am sure if I had, I would never have gone to service, for I might well know I was not fit for such slavery. There is no such great slavery in doing all I have mentioned to you, interrupted Arabella. It requires indeed a good memory, in which I never thought you deficient, for you are punctual to the greatest degree of exactness in recounting everything one desires to hear from you. Lucy, whom this praise soothed into good humor, and flattered with a belief that she was able, with a little instruction, to perform what her lady required, told her, if she pleased only to put her in a way how to tell her story, she would engage, after doing it once, to tell it again whenever she was desired. Arabella, being obliged to comply with the odd request, for which there was no precedent in all the romances her library was stuffed with, began to inform her in this manner. First, said she, you must relate my birth, which you know is very illustrious, and because I am willing to spare you the trouble of repeating things that are not absolutely necessary, you must apologize to your hearers for flipping over what passed in my infancy and the first eight or ten years of my life. Not failing, however, to remark that from some sprightly sallies of imagination at those early years, those about me conceived marvelous hopes of my future understanding. From fence you must proceed to an accurate description of my person. What, madam? interrupted Lucy. Must I tell what sort of person you have to people who have seen you but a moment ago? Questionless you must, replied Arabella, and herein you follow the example of all the squires and maids who relate their masters and ladies' histories, for though it be to a brother or near relation who has seen them a thousand times, yet they never omit an exact account of their persons. Very well, madam, said Lucy. I shall be sure not to forget that part of my story. I wish I was as perfect in all the rest. Then, Lucy, you must repeat all the conversations I have ever held with you upon the subjects of love and gallantry, that your audience may be so well acquainted with my humour as to know exactly before they are told how I shall behave in whatever adventures befall me. After that you may proceed to tell them how a noble unknown saw me at church, how prodigiously he was struck with my appearance, the tumultuous thoughts that this first view of me occasioned in his mind. Indeed, madam, interrupted Lucy again, I can't pretend to tell his thoughts, for how should I know what they were? None but himself can tell that. However that may be, said Arabella, I expect you should decipher all his thoughts, as plainly as himself could do. Otherwise my history will be very imperfect. Well, I suppose you are at no loss about that whole adventure, in which you yourself bore so great a share, so need not give you any further instructions concerning it. Only you must be sure, as I said before, not to omit the least circumstance in my behaviour, but relate everything I did, said, and thought upon that occasion. The disguised gardener must appear next in your story. Here you will of necessity be a little deficient, since you are not able to acquaint your hearers with his true name and quality, which questionless is very illustrious. However, above all, I must charge you not to mention that egregious mistake about the carp, for you know how—here Miss Glanville's entrance put a stop to the instructions Lucy was receiving, for she told Arabella that Sir George was gone. How, return she, is he gone? Truly, I am not much obliged to him for the indifference he has showed to hear my story. Why really, madam, said Miss Glanville, neither of us expected you would be as good as your word. You were so long in sending your woman down, and my brother persuaded Sir George you were only ingest, and Sir George has carried him home to dinner. And is it at Sir George's, replied Arabella, that your brother hopes to meet with an occasion of clearing himself? He is either very insensible of my anger or very conscious of his own innocence. Miss Glanville, having nothing to say in answer to an accusation she did not understand, changed the discourse, and the two ladies passed the rest of the day together, with tolerable good humour on Miss Glanville's side, who was in great hopes of making a conquest of the baronettes, before whom Arabella had made herself ridiculous enough. But that lady was far from being at ease. She had laid herself under a necessity of banishing Mr. Glanville, if he did not give some convincing proof of his innocence, which, as matters stood, she thought would be very hard for him to procure. And as she could not absolutely believe him guilty, she was concerned she had gone so far. The Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennox Book 3 Chapter 6 A Very Heroic Chapter Mr. Glanville, coming home in the evening a little elevated with the wine, of which he had drank too freely at Sir George's, being told the ladies were together, entered the room where they were sitting, and beholding Arabella, whose pensiveness had given an enchanting softness to her face, with a look of extreme admiration, upon my sole cousin, said he, if you continue to treat me so cruelly, you'll drive me mad. How I could adore you this moment, added he, gazing passionately at her. If I might but hope you did not hate me. Arabella, who did not perceive the condition he was in, was better pleased with this address than any he had ever used. And therefore, instead of chiding him, as she was want for the freedom of his expressions, she cast her bright eyes upon the ground, with so charming a confusion that Glanville, quite transported, threw himself on his knees before her, and taking her hand attempted to press it to his lips. But she hastily withdrawing it. From whence is this new boldness, said she, and what is it you would implore by that prostrate posture? I have told you already upon what conditions I will grant you my pardon. Clear yourself of being an accomplice with my designed ravisher, and I am ready to restore you to my esteem. Let me perish, madam, returned Glanville, if I would not die to please you this moment.  What shall I do, then, my angelic cousin, resumed he. Truly, said she, the sense of your offence ought so mortally to afflict you that you should invent some strange kind of penance for yourself, severe enough to prove your penance sincere.  I wish he had hanged himself, said Mr. Glanville, rising up in a passion at seeing her again in her altitudes.  Severe, madam? said Glanville, fearing he had offended her. Why, to be sure, he was a sad scoundrel to use his adored Thelastris as he did, and I think one cannot be too severe upon him. But, returned Arabella, appearances were against her, and he had some shadow of reason for his jealousy and rage. Then, you know, amidst all his transports, he could not be prevailed upon to draw his sword against her. What did that signify, said Glanville? I suppose he scorned to draw his sword upon a woman? That would have been a shame, indeed. That woman, sir, resumed Arabella, was not such a contemptible antagonist as you think her, and men as valiant possibly as erontes, though questionless he was one of the most valiant men in the world, have been cut in pieces by the sword of that brave Amazon. Lord bless me, said Miss Glanville, I should be afraid to look at such a terrible woman. I am sure she must be a very masculine sort of creature. You are much mistaken, Miss, said Arabella. For Thelastris, though the most stout and courageous of her sex, was nevertheless a perfect beauty, and had as much harmony and softness in her looks and person as she had courage in her heart and strength in her blows.  She must needs have very masculine hands that could give such terrible blows, and I can have no notion of the harmony of a person's looks who, by what you say, must have the heart of a tiger. But indeed, I don't think there ever could be such a woman. What, Miss, interrupted Arabella, do you pretend to doubt that there ever was such a person as Thelastris, Queen of the Amazons? Does not all the world know the adventures of that illustrious princess, her affection for the unjust Arantes, who accused her of having a scandalous intrigue with Alexander, whom she went to meet with a very different design upon the borders of her kingdom. The injurious letter he wrote her upon this suspicion made her resolve to seek for him all over the world to give him that death he had merited by her own hand, and it was in those encounters that he had with her, while she was thus incensed, that he forbore to defend himself against her, though her sword was often pointed to his breast. But Madam, interrupted Mr. Glanville, pray, what became of this Queen of the Amazons? Was she not killed at the Siege of Troy? She was never at the Siege of Troy, returned Arabella, but she assisted the princess who besieged Babylon to recover the liberty of Statira and Parasartis, and it was in the opposite party that she met with her faithless lover. If he was faithless, Madam, said Mr. Glanville, he deserved to die, and I wish with all my soul she had cut him in pieces with that famous sword of hers that had done such wonders.  For after he was convinced of her innocence, he was resolved to punish himself with a rigor equal to the fault he had been guilty of, and retiring to the woods, abandoned forever the society of men, dwelling in a cave and living upon bitter herbs, passing the days and nights in continual tears and sorrow for his crime. And here he proposed to end his life, had not the fair Thalastrist found him out in his solitude, and struck with the sincerity of his repentance pardoned him, and as I have said before, restored him to her favor. And to show you, said Glanville, that I am capable of doing as much for you, I will, if you insist upon it, seek out for some cave and do penance in it like that Aronte's, provided you will come and fetch me out of it, as that same fair Queen did him. I do not require so much of you, said Arabella, for I told you before that happily you are justified already in my opinion, but yet it is necessary you should find out some method of convincing the world of your innocence. Otherwise it is not fit I should live with you upon terms of friendship and civility. Well, well, madam, said Glanville, I'll convince you of my innocence by bringing that rascal's head to you, whom you suspect I was inclined to assist in stealing you away. If you do that, resumed Arabella, doubtless you will be justified in my opinion and the world's also, and I shall have no scruple to treat you with as much friendship as I did before.  I have so good an opinion of your brother's valour, said Arabella, that I am persuaded he will find no difficulty in performing his promise, and I make no question but I shall see him covered with the spoils of that imposter who would have betrayed me, and I flatter myself he will be in a condition to bring me his head as he bravely promises, without endangering his own life. Does your ladyship consider, said Ms. Glanville, that my brother can take away no person's life whatever without endangering his own? I consider, madam, said Arabella, your brother as a man possessed of virtue and courage enough to undertake to kill all my enemies and persecutors, though I had ever so many, and I presume he would be able to perform as many glorious actions for my service as either Juba, Cesario, Artemany's, or Artaban, who, though not a prince, was greater than any of them. If those persons you have named, said Ms. Glanville, were murderers and made a practice of killing people, I hope my brother will be too wise to follow their examples, a strange kind of virtue and courage indeed to take away the lives of one's fellow creatures. How did such wretches escape the gallows, I wonder? I perceive, interrupted Arabella, what kind of apprehensions you have.  But pray, undiseive yourself, miss, the law has no power over heroes. They may kill as many men as they please without being called to any account for it, and the more lives they take away, the greater is their reputation for virtue and glory. The illustrious Artaban, from the condition of a private man, raised himself to the sublimest pit of glory by his valor. For he not only would win half a dozen battles in a day, but to show that victory followed him wherever he went, he would change parties, and immediately the vanquished became conquerors. Then, returning to the side he had quitted, changed the laurels of his former friends into chains. He made nothing of tumbling kings from their thrones and giving away half a dozen crowns in a morning, for his generosity was equal to his courage, and to his height of power did he raise himself by his sword. Beginning at first with petty conquests, and not disdaining to oppose his glorious arm to sometimes less than a score of his enemies, so, by degrees enuring himself to conquer inconsiderable numbers, he came at last to be the terror of whole armies who would fly at the sight of his single sword. This is all very astonishing indeed, said Miss Glanville. However, I must entreat you not to insist upon my brother's quarreling and fighting with people, since it will be neither for your honor nor his safety. For I am afraid, if he was to commit murder to please you, the laws would make him suffer for it. The laws would make him suffer for it. And the world would be very free with its centers on your ladyship's reputation, for putting him upon such shocking crimes. By your discourse, Miss, replied Arabella, one would imagine you know as little in what the good reputation of a lady consists as the safety of a man, for certainly the one depends entirely upon his sword, and the other upon the noise and bustle she makes in the world. The blood that is shed for a lady enhances the value of her charms, and the more men a hero kills, the greater his glory, and by consequence the more secure he is. If to be the cause of a great many deaths can make a lady infamous, certainly none were ever more so than Mandana, Cleopatra, and Statera, the most illustrious names in antiquity, for each of whom, happily, and hundred thousand men were killed. Yet none were ever so unjust as to profane the virtue of these divine beauties by casting any censures upon them for these glorious effects of their charms and the heroic valor of their admirer. I must confess, interrupted Miss Glanville, I should not be sorry to have a duel or two fought for me in Hyde Park, but then I would not have any bloodshed for the world. Glanville, here interrupting his sister with a laugh, Arabella also could not forbear smiling at the harmless kind of combats her cousin was fond of. But to put an end to the conversation and the dispute which gave rise to it, she obliged Mr. Glanville to promise to fight with the imposter Edward whenever he found him, and either take away his life or force him to confess he had no part in the design he had mediated against her. This being agreed upon, Arabella, conducting Miss Glanville to her chamber, retired to her own, and passed the night with much greater tranquility than she had done the preceding, being satisfied with the care she had taken of her own glory and persuaded that Glanville was not unfaithful, a circumstance that was of more consequence to her highness than she was yet aware of. CHAPTER VIII OF THE FEMALE KEHOTE BOLUME ONE This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Red by Bob Neufert. THE FEMALE KEHOTE by Charlotte Lennox. Book III, Chapter VII in which our heroine is suspected of insensibility. While these things passed at the castle, Sir George was meditating on the means he should use to acquire the esteem of Lady Bella, of whose person he was a little enamored, but of her fortune a great deal more.  He was well read in the romances himself and had actually implored himself some weeks in giving a new version of the grand Cyrus, but the prodigious length of the task he had undertaken terrified him so much that he gave it over. Nevertheless, he was perfectly well acquainted with the chief characters in most of the French romances, could tell everything that was borrowed from them in all the new novels they came out, and, being a very accurate critic and a mortal hater of Dryden, ridiculed him for want of invention, as it appeared by his having recourse to these books for the most shining characters and incidents in his plays. Almanzor, he would say, was the copy of the famous Artaban and Cleopatra, whose exploits Arabella had expatiated upon to Miss Glanville and her brother. His admired character of Melantha, in marriage Alamode, was drawn from Barissa in the grand Cyrus, and the story of Osmin and Benceida in his conquest of Granada, taken from Cessostris and Temorrilla in that romance. Frot, therefore, with the knowledge of all the extravagances and peculiarities in those books, he resolved to make his addresses to Arabella in the form they described, and not having delicacy enough to be disgusted with the ridicule in her character served himself with her foieble to affect his designs. It, being necessary, in order to better his acquaintance with Arabella to be upon very friendly terms with Miss Glanville and her brother, he said a thousand gallant things to one, and seemed so little offended with the gloom he observed upon the countenance of the other, who positively assured him that Arabella meant only to laugh at him, when she promised him her history, that he entreated him, with the most obliging earnestness, to favour him with his company at his house, where he omitted no sort of civility to confirm their friendship and intimacy, and persuaded him, by several little and seemingly unguarded expressions, that he was not so great an admirer of Lady Bella as her agreeable cousin, Miss Glanville. Having thus secured a footing in the castle, he furnished his memory with all the necessary rules of making love in Arabella's taste, and deferred his next visit no longer than till the following day. But Mr. Glanville being indisposed, and not able to see company, he knew it would be in vain to expect to see Arabella, since he was not to be imagined Miss Glanville could admit of her visit, her brother being ill, and Lady Bella must be also necessarily engaged with her. Contenting himself, therefore, with having inquired after the health of the two ladies, he returned home, not a little vexed at his disappointment. Mr. Glanville's indisposition, increasing every day, grew at last dangerous enough to fill his sister with extreme apprehensions. Arabella, keeping up to her forms, sent regularly every day to inquire after his health, but did not offer to go into his chamber, though Miss Glanville was almost always there. As she conceived his sickness to be occasioned by the violence of his passion for her, she expected some overture should be made by his sister to engage her to make a visit, such a favor being never granted by any lady to a sick lover, till she was previously informed her presence was necessary to hinder the increase of this distemper. Miss Glanville would not have failed to represent to her cousin the incivility and carelessness of her behavior in not deigning to come and see her brother in his indisposition, had not Mr. Glanville imputing this neglect to the nicety of her notions which she had upon other occasions experienced, absolutely forbid her to say anything to her cousin upon this subject. Miss Glanville, being thus forced to silence by the fear of giving her brother uneasiness, Arabella was extremely disappointed to find that in five days' illness no application had been made to her, either by the sick lover or his sister, who she thought interested herself too little in his recovery, so that her glory obliging her to lay some constraint upon herself, she behaved with a coolness and insensibility that increased Miss Glanville's aversion to her, while in reality she was extremely concerned for her cousin's illness. But not supposing it dangerous, since they had not recourse to the usual remedy of beseeching a visit from the person whose presence was alone able to work a cure, she resolved to wait patiently the event. However, she never failed in her respect to Miss Glanville, whom she visited every morning before she went to her brother, and also constantly dined with her in her own apartment, inquiring always with great sweetness concerning her brother's health. When perceiving her in tears one day as she came in as usual to dine with her, she was extremely alarmed and asked with great precipitation if Mr. Glanville was worse. He is so bad, madame," returned Miss Glanville, that I believe it will be necessary to send for my papa, for fear he should die and he not see him. Die, Miss? interrupted Arabella eagerly. No, he must not die, and shall not, if the pity of Arabella is powerful enough to make him live.   Happily my sight may repair the evils my rigor has caused him, and since, as I imagine he has foreborn through the profound respect he has for me, to request the favour of a visit, I will voluntarily bestow it on him, as well for the affection I bear you, as because I do not wish his death. You do not wish his death, madame," said Miss Glanville, excessively angry at her speech in her opinion extremely insolent. Is it such a mighty favour, pray, not to wish the death of my brother who never injured you? I am sure your behaviour has been so extremely inhuman that I have repented a thousand times we ever came to the castle. Let us not waste the time in idle reproaches, said Arabella. If my rigor has brought your brother into this condition, my compassion can draw him out of it. It is no more than what all do suffer who are possessed of a violent passion, and few lovers ever arrive to the possession of their mistresses without being several times brought almost to their graves, either by their severity or some other cause. But nothing is more easy than to work a cure in these cases, for the very sight of the person beloved sometimes doesn't, as it happened to Artemeneys when the divine Mandana condescended to visit him. A few kind words, spoken by the fair Princess of Persia to Orondates, recalled him from the gates of death, and one line from Parasartus' hand, which brought a command to Lisomachus to live, made him not only resolve, but even able to obey her. Miss Glanville, quite out of patience at this tedious harangue, without any regard to ceremony, flounced out of the room and ran to her brother's chamber, followed by Arabella, who imputed her rude haste to a suspicion that her brother was worse. End of Book 3 Chapter 7 Book 3 Chapter 8 of The Female Quixote This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Bob Newfound. The Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennox. Book 3 Chapter 8 By which we hope the reader will be differently affected. At their entrance into the room, Miss Glanville inquired of the physician just going out how he found her brother, who replied that his fever was increased since last night, and that it would not, seeing Arabella preparing to go to his bedside, be proper to disturb him. Saying this, he bowed and went out. And Miss Glanville, repeating what the physician had said, begged her to defer speaking to him till another time. I know, said she, that he apprehends the sight of me will cause so many tumultuous motions in the soul of his patient, as may prove prejudicial to him. Nevertheless, since his disorder is questionless, more in his mind than body, I may prove, happily, a better physician than he, since I am more likely than he to cure an illness I have caused. Saying this, she walked up to Glanville's bedside. Who, seeing her, thanked her with a weak voice for coming to see him. Assuring her, he was very sensible of the favor she did him. You must not, said she, blushing, thank me too much, lest I think the favor I have done you is really of more consequence than I imagined, since it merits so many acknowledgments. Your physician tells us, pursued she, that your life is in danger, but I persuade myself you will value it so much from this moment that you will not protract your cure any longer. Are you mad, madam? whispered Miss Glanville, who stood behind her, to tell my brother that the physician says he is in danger? I suppose you really wish he may die, or you would not talk so. If, answered she, whispering again to Miss Glanville, you are not satisfied with what I have already done for your brother, I will go as far as modesty will permit me. And gently pulling open the curtains. Glanville, said she, with a voice too much raised for a sick person's ear, I grant to your sister's solicitations what the first attire did to an interest yet more powerful, since, as you know, it was her own brother who pleaded in favor of the dying Arontes. Therefore, considering you in a condition happily no less dangerous than that of that passionate prince, I condescend, like her, to tell you that I do not wish your death, that I entreat you to live, and lastly, by all the power I have over you, I command you to recover. Ending these words, she closed the curtain, that her transported lover might not see her blushes and confusion, which were so great that to conceal them, even from Miss Glanville, she hurried out of the room and retired to her own apartment, expecting in a little time to receive a billet under the sick man's hand, importing that, in obedience to her commands, he was recovered and ready to throw himself at her feet, to thank her for that life she had bestowed upon him, and to dedicate the remains of it to her service. Miss Glanville, who stayed behind her in a strange surprise at her ridiculous behavior, though she longed to know what her brother thought of it, finding he continued silent, would not disturb him. The shame he conceived at hearing so absurd a speech from a woman he passionately loved, and the desire he had not to hear his sister's sentiments upon it, made him counterfeit sleep, to avoid any discourse with her upon so disagreeable a subject. That day his fever increased, and the next, the physician pronouncing him in great danger, a messenger was dispatched to town to hasten the coming of Sir Charles, and poor Miss Glanville was quite inconsolable under the apprehensions of losing him. Arabella, not to derogate from her character, attached great firmness of mind upon this occasion, she used the most persuasive elegance to moderate her cousin's affliction and caused all imaginable care to be taken of Mr. Glanville. While any one was present, her looks discovered only a calm and decent sorrow. Yet when she was alone, or had only her dear Lucy with her, she gave free vent to her tears, and discovered a grief for Mr. Glanville's illness little different from that she had felt for her father's. As she now visited him constantly every day, she took an opportunity when she was alone by his bedside to chide him for his disobedience in not recovering as she had commanded him. "'Dear cousin,' answered he faintly, "'can you imagine health is not my choice? And do you think I would suffer these pains if I could possibly ease myself of them?' "'Those pains,' replied Arabella, mistaking his complaint, "'ought to have ceased when the cause of them did. And when I was no longer rigorous, you ought no longer to have suffered. But tell me, since you are questionless one of the strangest men in the world and the hardest to be comforted, nay, and I add, the most disobedient of all that ever were the fetters of love, tell me, I say, what must I do to content you?' "'If I live, cousin,' said Glanville, "'nay,' interrupted Arabella, "'since my empire over you is not so absolute as I thought, and since you think it fit to reserve to yourself the liberty of dying contrary to my desire, I think I had better resolve not to make any treaty with you. However, as I have gone thus far, I will do something more, and tell you, since I have commanded you to live, I will also permit you to love me. "'In order to make the life I have bestowed on you worthy your acceptance, make me no reply,' said she, putting her hand on his mouth, "'but begin from this moment to obey me.'" Saying this, she went out of the room. A few hours after, his fever being come to a height, he grew delirious and talked very wildly. But, a favorable crisis ensuing, he fell into a sound and secret sleep and continued in it for several hours. Upon his waking, the physician declared his fever was greatly abated, and the next morning pronounced him out of danger. Ms. Glanville transported with joy, ran to Lady Bella, and informed her of this good news. But, as she did not make her the acknowledgments she expected for being the cause of his recovery, she behaved with more reserve than Ms. Glanville thought was necessary, which renewed her former disgusts. Yet, dreading to displease her brother, she concealed it from the observation of her cousin. Arabella, being desirous of completing her lover's cure by some more favorable expressions, went to his chamber, accompanied by Ms. Glanville.  "'Indeed, my dearest cousin,' said Glanville, who had found her more interested in his recovery than he expected, "'you have been very obliging, and I will always most gratefully own it.' "'I am glad,' interrupted Arabella, that gratitude is not banished from all your family, and that that person in it, for whom I have the most sensibility, is not entirely divested of it. "'I hope,' said Mr. Glanville, my sister has given you no cause to complain of her. "'Indeed, but she has,' Arabella said, for notwithstanding she has obliged to me for the life of a brother, whom questionless she loves very well, nevertheless she did not deign to make me the least acknowledgement for what I have done in your favor. However, Glanville, provided you continue to observe that respect and fidelity towards me which I have reason to hope for from you, your condition shall be never the worse for Miss Glanville's unacknowledging temper. And I now confirm the grant I yesterday made you, and repeat it again, that I permit you to love me, and promise you not to be displeased at any testimonies you will give me of your passion, provided you serve me with an inviolable fidelity. "'But madam,' returned Mr. Glanville, to make my happiness complete, you must also promise to love me, or else what signifies the permission you give me to love you? You are almost as unacknowledging as your sister,' resumed Arabella, blushing, and if your health was perfectly re-established, questionless I should chide you for your presumption. But since something must be allowed to sick persons, whose reason, one may suppose, is weakened by their indisposition, I will pardon your indiscretion at this time and counsel you to wait patiently for what heaven will determine in your favor. "'Therefore, endeavour to merit my affection by your respect, fidelity, and services, and hope for my justice, whatever it ought to bestow.' Ending this speech with a solemnity of accent that gave Mr. Glanville to understand any reply would offend her, he silently kissed her fair hand, which she held out to him. A favour, the terms upon which they now were and his sickness, gave him a right to expect. And finishing her visit for that time left him to his repose, being extremely pleased at the prospect of his recovery, and very well satisfied at having so gracefully got over so great a difficulty as that of giving him permission to love her. For by the laws of romance, when a lady has once given her lover that permission, she may lawfully allow him to talk to her upon the subject of his passion, accept all his gallantries, and claim an absolute empire over all his actions, reserving to herself the right of fixing the time when she may own her affection. And when that important step is taken, and his constancy put to a few years more trial, when he has killed all his rivals and rescued her from a thousand dangers, she at last condescends to reward him with her hand, and all her adventures are and all her adventures are at an end for the future. Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennox, book four, chapter one, in which our heroine discovers her knowledge in astronomy. Sir George, who had never missed a day during Mr. Glanville's illness in sending to the castle, now he was able to see company, visited him very frequently, and sometimes had the happiness to meet with Arabella in his chamber. But knowing the conditions of her father's will and Mr. Glanville's pretensions, he was obliged to lay so much constraint upon himself in the presence of Miss Glanville and her brother that he hardly durst trust his eyes to express his admiration of her for fear of alarming them with any suspicion of his designs. However, he did not fail to recommend himself to her esteem by a behavior to her full of the most perfect respect, and very often ere he was aware uttered some of the extravagant compliments that the gallants in the French romances used to their mistresses. If he walked with her in the gardens he would observe that the flowers, which were before languishing in pale, bloomed with fresh beauty at her approach, at the sun shined out with double brightness to exceed, if possible, the luster of her eyes, and that the wind, fond of kissing her celestial countenance, played with her fair hair, and by gentle murmurs declared its happiness. If Miss Glanville happened to be present when he talked to her in this strain, she would suppose he was ridiculing her cousin's fantastical turn, and when she had an opportunity of speaking to him alone would chide him, with a great deal of good humor, for giving her so much diversion that her cousin's expense. So George, improving this hint, persuaded Miss Glanville by his answers that he really laughed at Arabella, and being now less fearful of giving any suspicion to the gay coquette since she assisted him to deceive her, he applied himself with more aciduity than ever to insinuate himself into Arabella's favor. However, the necessity he was under of being always of Arabella's opinion sometimes drew him into little difficulties with Miss Glanville. Knowing that young lady was extremely fond of scandal, he told her, as a most agreeable piece of news, one afternoon when he was there, that he had seen Miss Groves, who, he supposed, had come into the country upon the same account as she had done a twelve-month before. Her marriage being yet a secret, the complacent baronette, threw out an hint or two concerning familiarity and correspondence there was between her and the gentleman to whom she was really secretly married. Miss Glanville, making the most of this intelligence, said a thousand severe things against the unfortunate Miss Groves, which Arabella, always benevolent and kind, could not bear. I persuade myself, said she to her cousin, that you have been misinformed concerning this beauty whose misfortunes you aggravate by your cruel censures, and whoever has given you the history of her life has happily done it with great injustice.  I apprehend, said Arabella, that I, who have had a relation made to me of all the passages of her life and have been told all her most secret thoughts, may know as much, if not more, than persons who have lived in the same place with her and have not had that advantage, and I think I know enough to vindicate her from many cruel aspersions. Pray, madam, returned Miss Glanville, will your ladyship pretend to defend her scandalous commerce with Mr. L? I know not, Miss, said Arabella, why you call her intercourse with that perjured man by so unjust an epithet. If Miss Groves be unchaste, so was the relound Cleopatra, whose marriage with Julius Caesar is controverted to this day. And what reasons, madam, said Miss Glanville, have you for supposing Miss Groves was married to Mr. L, since all the world knows to the contrary? Very sufficient ones, said Arabella, since it is hardly possible to suppose a young lady of Miss Groves' quality would stay in the luster of her dissent by so shameful and intrigue. And also, since there are examples enough to be found of persons who suffered under the same unhappy circumstances as herself, yet were perfectly innocent, as was that great queen I have mentioned. Who, questionless you, sir, are sufficiently convinced was married to that illustrious conqueror? Who, by betraying so great and so fair a queen, in great measure tarnished the glory of his laurels? Married, madam, replied Sir George. Who presumes to say that fair queen was not married to that illustrious conqueror? Nay, you know, sir, interrupted Arabella. Many people did say, even while she was living, that she was not married, and have branded her memory with infamous columnies upon a count of the sun she had by Caesar, the brave Cesario, who, under the name of Cleomedon, performed such miracles of valor in Ethiopia. I assure you, madam, said Sir George, I was always a great admirer of the famous Cleomedon, who was certainly the greatest hero in the world. Pardon me, sir, said Arabella. Cleomedon was questionless a very valiant man, but he and all the heroes that ever were must give place to the unequaled Prince of Mauritania, that illustrious and for a long time unfortunate lover of the divine Cleopatra, who was daughter, as you questionless know, of the great Queen we have been speaking on. Dear heart, said Miss Glanville, what is all this to the purpose? I would faint know whether Sir George believes Miss Gross was ever married to Mr. L. Doubtless I do, said he, for as Lady Bella says, she is in the same unhappy circumstance with the great Cleopatra, and if Julius Caesar could be guilty of denying his marriage with that Queen, I see no reason to suppose why Mr. L might not be guilty of the same kind of injustice. So then, interrupted Miss Glanville, blushing with spite, you will really offer to maintain that Miss Groves was married. Ridiculous. How such a report would be laughed at in London. I assure you, replied Arabella, if ever I go to London, I shall not scruple to maintain that opinion to everyone who will mention that fair one to me, and use all my endeavours to confirm them in it. Your ladyship would do well, said Miss Glanville, to persuade people that Miss Groves at fifteen did not want to run away with her writing master. As I am persuaded myself, said Arabella, that writing master was some noble stranger in disguise who was passionately in love with her, I shall not suffer anybody in my hearing to propagate such an unlikely story. But since he was a person worthy of her affection, if she had run away with him, her fault was not without example and even excuse. You know what the fair Artemisa did for Alexander, sir, pursued she, turning to Sir George. I would faint know your sentiments upon the action of that princess, which some have not scrupled to condemn. Whoever they are, madame, said Sir George, who condemn the fair Artemisa for what she did for Alexander are miscreants and slanderers, and though that beautiful princess has been dead more than two thousand years, I would draw my sword in deference of her character against all who should presume in my presence to cast any censures upon it. Since you are so courageous, said Miss Glanville, laughing excessively at this sally which she thought was to ridicule her cousin, it is to be hoped you will defend a living lady's character, who may thank you for it, and make the world believe that her correspondence with Mr. L was entirely innocent, and that she never had any design to run away with her writing master.  Indeed, Lady Bella, said Miss Glanville, smiling, you may as well persuade me the moon is made of a cream cheese, as that any doberman turned himself into a writing master to obtain Miss Groves. Is it possible, Miss, said Arabella, that you can offer such an affront to my understanding as to suppose I would argue upon such a ridiculous system, and compare the second glorious luminary of the heavens to so unworthy a resemblance? I have taken some pains to contemplate the heavenly bodies, and by reading an observation am able to comprehend some part of their excellence. Therefore it is not probable that I should descend to such trivial comparisons, and liken a planet which, happily, is not much less than our earth to a thing so inconsiderable as that you name. Pardon me, dear cousin, interrupted Miss Glanville, laughing louder than before, if I divert myself a little with the extravagance of your notions. Really, I think you have no reason to be angry if I supposed you might make a comparison between the moon and a cream cheese, since you say that same moon, which doesn't appear broader than your gardener's face, is not much less than the whole world. Why, certainly I have more reason to trust my own eyes than such whimsical notions as these. Arabella, unwilling to expose her cousin's ignorance by a longer dispute upon this subject, begged her to let it drop for the present. And, turning to Sir George, I am very glad, said she, that having always had some inclination to excuse and even defend the flight of Artemisa with Alexander, my opinion is warranted by that of a person so generous as yourself. Indeed, when we consider that this princess forsoc her brother's dominions and fled away with a lover whom she did not hate, questionless, her enemies accuse her with some appearance of reason, of too great imbecility. But, Madam, replied Sir George, her enemies will not take the pains to examine her reasons for this conduct. True, Sir, resumed Arabella, for she was in danger of seeing a prince who loved her put to a cruel and infamous death upon a public scaffold, and she did not resolve to fly with him till all her tears and prayers were found ineffectual to move the king, her brother, to mercy. Though, replied Sir George, I am extremely angry with the indiscreet Sapio, who discovered Alexander to the Arminian king.  How brave it was of him to pass undoubtedly through the prodigious number of guards that environed the scaffold, and with his dream sword run the executioner through the body in the sight of them all. Then, giving the prince another sword, engage more than two thousand men in his defense. Questionless, replied Arabella, it was a glorious action, and when I think how the king of Arminia was enraged to see such a multitude of soldiers fly from the swords of two men, I cannot choose but divert myself with the consternation he was in. Yet, that was nothing to the horrible despair which tormented him afterwards, when he found that Alexander, after being again taken and imprisoned, had broken his chains, and carried away with him the princess Artemisa, his sister.