Calantha

“ Calantha started from Alice; for love, when it first exists, is so timid, so sacred, that it fears the least breath of observation, and disguises itself under every borrowed name. “You are wrong,” said Calantha, “I would not bend my free spirit to the weakness of which you would accuse me, for all the world can offer; your Calantha will never acknowledge a master; will never yield her soul’s free and immortal hopes, to any earthly affection. 89 Fear not, my counsellor, that I will forsake my virgin vows, or bow my unbroken spirit to that stern despot, whose only object is power and command.” ”

“ To suffer the pangs of unrequited love was not, in the present instance, the destiny of Calantha. That dark eye, the lustre of whose gaze she durst not meet, was, nevertheless, at all times fixed upon her; and the quick mantling blush and beaming smile, which lighted the countenance of Lord Avondale, whenever her name was pronounced before him, soon betrayed, to all but himself and Calantha, how much and how entirely his affections were engaged. He was of a nature not easily to be flattered into admiration of others—not readily attracted, or lightly won ”

“ Calantha spoke much and often apart with Gondimar. Every thought of her heart seemed concentrated on the sudden in one dark interest; yet it was not love that she felt: it could not be. By day, by night, one image pursued her; yet to save, to reclaim, to lead back from crime to virtue—from misery to peace, was, as she then apprehended, her sole desire. Were not all around alike infatuated? Was not the idol of her fancy a being to whom all alike paid the insense of flattery—the most lowly—the most abject? ”

“ Calantha alone shared not in these transports; for the agony of her soul was beyond endurance. Oh, that she too could have thought Glenarvon sincere and generous; that she too, in parting from him, could have said, a moment of passion and my own errors have misled him!—but he has a noble nature. Had he taken her by the hand, and said—Calantha, we both of us have erred; but it is time to pause and repent: stay with a husband who adores you: live to atone for the crime you have committed:—she had done so. ”

“ Arrived in that gay city, that fair mart where pleasure and amusement gather around their votaries,—where incessant hurry after novelty employs every energy, and desire of gaiety fills every hour, every feeling and every thought, Calantha hailed every new acquaintance—every new amusement; and her mind unpolished and ignorant, opened with admiration and wonder upon so new, so diversified a scene. To the language of praise and affection, she had been used; to unlimited indulgence and liberty, she was accustomed ”

“ Calantha is the object of your pursuit not mine.” “Of my pursuit! in truth I believe you feel more interest in her conduct than I do, I am old and weary of these follies; life is just opening upon you; Calantha is your idol” “No,” replied Viviani, with a smile of scorn. “It is not that party 240 coloured butterfly, which ranges ever from flower to flower, spreading its light pinions in the summer breeze, or basking in the smiles of fortune, for which my life is consumed, my soul is scorched with living fire, and my mind is impaired and lost! ”

“ I will not say God bless you:—I must not bless thee, who have brought thee to so much misery. Weep not for one unworthy of you:—I am not what you think, my Calantha. Unblessed myself, I can but give misery to all who approach me. All that follow after me come to this pass; for my love is death, and this is the reward of constancy. Poor Alice, but still more unhappy Calantha, my heart bleeds for you: for myself, I am indifferent. ”

“ As Calantha spoke, Lord Avondale approached, and joined them. The deep blush that crimsoned over her cheek was a truer answer to her friend’s accusation than the one she had just uttered.—“Heremon and Inis Tara have charms for both of you,” he said, smiling:—“you are always wandering either to or from thence.” “They are our own native mountains,” said Calantha, timidly;—“the landmarks we have been taught to reverence from our earliest youth.” ”

“ Oh no; she feels it in her very soul—it awakens every sensibility—it plays upon the chords of her overheated imagination—it fills her eyes with tears, and strengthens and excites the passions, which it appears to soothe and to compose. There is nothing which the power of music cannot effect, when it is thus heard. Your Calantha feels it to a dangerous excess. Let me see her, and I will sing to her till the chaste veil of every modest feeling is thrown aside, and thoughts of fire dart into her bosom, and loosen every principle therein. ”

“ Her looks were wild; famine had stamped its hollow prints in furrows on her cheeks; she clasped her 321 hands together; and fixing her eyes wildly upon Glenarvon, remained in silence.
Terrified, Calantha threw herself for safety at his feet; and he clasping her closely to his bosom saw but her. “Oh Glenarvon,” she cried, “look, look; it is not a human form: it is some dreadful vision, sent to us by the power of God, to warn us.” “My soul, my Calantha, fear not: no power shall harm you.” ”

“ The eye beamed into life as it threw up its dark ardent gaze, with a look nearly of inspiration, while the proud curl of the upper lip expressed haughtiness and bitter contempt; yet, even mixed with these fierce characteristic feelings, an air of melancholy and dejection shaded and softened every harsher expression. Such a countenance 32 spoke to the heart, and filled it with one vague yet powerful interest—so strong, so undefinable, that it could not easily be overcome.
Calantha felt the power, not then alone, but evermore. ”

“ His name she asked: he replied, “Camioli.” “If gold can give you peace, take this,” she said. He blessed her: he called her all goodness—all loveliness; and he prayed for her to his God. “Oh, God of mercy!” 72 said Calantha, “hear the prayer of the petitioner: grant me the blessing he has asked for me. I never more can pray. He little knows the pang he gave. He calls me good: alas! that name and Calantha’s are parted for ever.”
Poor wretch! who hast nothing to hope for in life,
But the mercy of hearts long success has made hard. ”

“ Calantha knew not then that her misery was more than shared,—that Lord Avondale, though too proud to acknowledge it, was a prey to the deepest grief upon her account,—that he lived but in the hope of possessing the only being upon earth to whom he had attached himself,—and that the sentence pronounced against both, was a death stroke to his happiness, as well as to her own. When strong love awakes for the first time in an inexperienced heart it is so diffident, so tremblingly fearful, that it dares scarcely hope even for a return ”

“ Seymour’s manner, Calantha appealed to her husband: “and shall I give up my friend, because she has none but me to defend her? Shall my friendship—” “Alas Calantha,” said Lord Avondale, “you treat the noblest sentiment of the heart as a toy which is to be purchased to-day, and thrown aside to-morrow. Believe me, friendship is not to be acquired by a few morning visits; nor is it to be found, though I fear it is too often lost, in the crowd of fashion.” He spoke this mournfully. The ready tears trembled in Lady Avondale’s eyes.—“I will see no more of her, if it gives you pain. ”

“ Calantha saw a visible change in Lady Margaret’s countenance, as he entered the room. “He is the living images”—she murmured, in a low hollow tone—“Of whom?” said Calantha eagerly.—She seemed agitated and retired. Gondimar in the evening, took Calantha apart, and said these extraordinary words to her, “Zerbellini is Lady Margaret and Lord Dartford’s son: treat him according to his birth; but remember, she would see him a slave sooner than betray herself: she abhors, yet loves him. ”

“ Where, but in death can such outcast seek refuge from shame, remorse and all the bitterness of despair? Where but in death? Oh, God; it is no coward’s act! The strength of momentary passion may nerve the arm for so rash a deed; but faint hearts will sicken at the thought.
Calantha durst not—no, she durst not strike the blow. She seized the sharp edged knife, and tried its force. It was not pain she feared. Pain, even to extremity, she already felt. But one single blow—one instant, and all to be at an end. A trembling horror seized upon her limbs: the life-blood chilled around her heart. ”

“ Of Admiral Sir R. Mowbray, Calantha now took leave without being able to utter one word:—she wept as children weep in early days, the hearts’ convulsive sob free and unrestrained. He was as much affected as herself, and seeking Lady Margaret, before he left the castle and followed his nephew who had gone straight to England, began an eager attack upon her, with all the blunt asperity of his nature. ”

“ It was one day, one dark and fatal day, when passion raging in his bosom, and time and opportunity at hand, he suddenly approached her, and seizing her with violence, asked her if she returned his love. “My friendship is ruin,” he cried; “all alliance with me must cast disgrace upon the object of my regard. But, Calantha, you must be mine! May I not even now call you thus? Shall they ever persuade you to abandon me? Vain is all attempt at disguise,” he continued; “I love you to madness and to distraction—you know it too well. ”

“ Calantha’s tears fell upon her sleeping boy. He awoke, and he beheld his mother; but he could not discern the agitation of her mind. He looked on her, therefore, with that radiant look of happiness which brightens the smile of childhood; nor knew, as he snatched one kiss in haste, that it was the last, the last kiss from a mother, which ever through life should bless him with its pressure.
It was now near the hour of twelve; and Mrs. Seymour cautiously approached Calantha’s bed. “Is it time?” “Not yet, my child.” “Is Sir Richard gone?” “No; he is still in his own apartment. ”

“ And now the glowing picture of guilt is at an end; the sword of justice hangs over the head of a devoted criminal; and the tortures of remorse are alone left me to describe. But no: remorse came not yet: absence but drew Calantha nearer to the object of her attachment. They never love so well, who have never been estranged. Who is there that in absence clings not with increasing fondness to the object of its idolatry, watches not every post, and trembling with alarm, anxiety and suspense, reads not again and again every line that the hand of love has traced? ”

“ Oh! if there be a pang of heart too terrible to endure and to imagine, it would be the consideration that we have returned unexampled kindness, by ingratitude, and betrayed the generous noble confidence that trusted every thing to our honour and our love. Calantha had not, however, this heavy charge to 165 answer for at the time in which she spoke, and her thoughts were gay, and all those around seemed to share in the happiness she felt. ”

“ Calantha looked first upon the scene, and then upon Glenarvon: still he leant upon the harp, and seemed to be lost in melancholy remembrances.
“Sing once again,” she said, at length 191 interrupting him—“Ah! sing as I first heard you:—those notes reached the heart.” “Did they?” he cried, approaching her, as his lips pressed, upon hers, one ardent kiss. The blood rushed from her heart in alarm and agitation:—she trembled and turned from him. “There is no cause,” he said, gently following her:—“it is the first kiss of love, sweet one; the last alone is full of bitterness.” ”

“ From this state, Calantha was at length aroused by the return of Lord Avondale. It has been said, that the severest pang to one not wholly hardened, is the unsuspicious confidence of the friend whom we have betrayed, the look of radiant health and joy which we never more must share, that eye of unclouded virtue, that smile of a heart at rest, and, worse than all perhaps, the soft confiding words 123 and fond caresses offered after long absence. Cruel is such suffering. ”

“ Calantha turned to the Count Gondimar; and, talking with affected spirits, soon appeared to have forgotten both the smile and the sigh.
“You once, when in London, gave me permission to warn you,” said the Count, who observed every thing that was passing, “when I thought you in danger. Now,” continued he,—“now is the moment. It was not when dancing with Mr. Clarendon, or playing the coquette with Buchanan and the Duke of Myrtlegrove, that I trembled for you. Lord Avondale was still dear, even in those days—but now—O! the inconstancy of the human heart. You, even you, are changed.” ”

“ Lady Margaret sought Calantha before she retired for the night, and laughed at her for her conduct. “Your rage, your absurdity but excite my contempt. Calantha, how puerile this violence appears to me; above all, how useless. Now from the earliest day of my remembrance can any one say of me that they beheld me forgetful of my own dignity from the violence of my passions. Yet I feel, think you not, and have made others feel. Your childish petulance but operates against yourself. What are threats, blows and mighty words from a woman. When I am offended, I smile ”

“ Had he betrayed in his manner to Calantha that freedom, that familiarity so offensive in men, but yet so frequent amongst them, she would yet have shuddered. But what was she to fly? Not from the gross adulation, or the easy flippant protestations to which all women are soon or late accustomed; but from a respect, at once refined and flattering—an attention devoted even to her least wishes, yet without appearing subservient—a gentleness and sweetness, as rare as they were fascinating ”