The Mysteries of Udolpho

'I must beg you will be more explicit, sir; what was that subject?' 'What could it be, but the noble offer of Count Morano,' said Montoni. 'Then, sir, we entirely misunderstood each other,' replied Emily. 'We entirely misunderstood each other too, I suppose,' rejoined Montoni,

'in the conversation which preceded the writing of that note? I must do

you the justice to own, that you are very ingenious at this same art of

misunderstanding.'

Emily tried to restrain the tears that came to her eyes, and to answer

with becoming firmness. 'Allow me, sir, to explain myself fully, or to

be wholly silent.' 'The explanation may now be dispensed with; it is anticipated. If Count

Morano still thinks one necessary, I will give him an honest one--You

have changed your intention since our last conversation; and, if he

can have patience and humility enough to wait till to-morrow, he will

probably find it changed again: but as I have neither the patience or

the humility, which you expect from a lover, I warn you of the effect of

my displeasure!' 'Montoni, you are too precipitate,' said the Count, who had listened

to this conversation in extreme agitation and impatience;--'Signora, I

entreat your own explanation of this affair!'

'Signor Montoni has said justly,' replied Emily, 'that all explanation

may now be dispensed with; after what has passed I cannot suffer myself

to give one. It is sufficient for me, and for you, sir, that I repeat my

late declaration; let me hope this is the last time it will be necessary

for me to repeat it--I never can accept the honour of your alliance.'

'Charming Emily!' exclaimed the Count in an impassioned tone, 'let

not resentment make you unjust; let me not suffer for the offence of

Montoni!--Revoke--' 'Offence!' interrupted Montoni--'Count, this language is ridiculous,

this submission is childish!--speak as becomes a man, not as the slave

of a pretty tyrant.' 'You distract me, Signor; suffer me to plead my own cause; you have

already proved insufficient to it.' 'All conversation on this subject, sir,' said Emily, 'is worse than

useless, since it can bring only pain to each of us: if you would oblige

me, pursue it no farther.' 'It is impossible, Madam, that I can thus easily resign the object of

a passion, which is the delight and torment of my life.--I must still

love--still pursue you with unremitting ardour;--when you shall be

convinced of the strength and constancy of my passion, your heart must

soften into pity and repentance.'