The Mysteries of Udolpho
Page 185And poor Misfortune feels the lash of Vice.
THOMSON
Emily seized the first opportunity of conversing alone with Mons.
Quesnel, concerning La Vallee. His answers to her enquiries were
concise, and delivered with the air of a man, who is conscious of
possessing absolute power and impatient of hearing it questioned. He
declared, that the disposal of the place was a necessary measure; and
that she might consider herself indebted to his prudence for even the
small income that remained for her.
'But, however,' added he, 'when
this Venetian Count (I have forgot his name) marries you, your present
rejoice in the circumstance, which is so fortunate for you, and, I may
add, so unexpected by your friends.' For some moments Emily was chilled
into silence by this speech; and, when she attempted to undeceive him,
concerning the purport of the note she had inclosed in Montoni's letter,
he appeared to have some private reason for disbelieving her assertion,
and, for a considerable time, persevered in accusing her of capricious
conduct.
Being, at length, however, convinced that she really disliked
Morano and had positively rejected his suit, his resentment was
extravagant, and he expressed it in terms equally pointed and inhuman;
whose title he had affected to forget, he was incapable of feeling
pity for whatever sufferings of his niece might stand in the way of his
ambition. Emily saw at once in his manner all the difficulties, that awaited
her, and, though no oppression could have power to make her renounce
Valancourt for Morano, her fortitude now trembled at an encounter with
the violent passions of her uncle.
She opposed his turbulence and indignation only by the mild dignity of
a superior mind; but the gentle firmness of her conduct served to
exasperate still more his resentment, since it compelled him to feel
his own inferiority, and, when he left her, he declared, that, if she
the contempt of the world.
The calmness she had assumed in his presence failed Emily, when alone,
and she wept bitterly, and called frequently upon the name of her
departed father, whose advice to her from his death-bed she then
remembered. 'Alas!' said she, 'I do indeed perceive how much more
valuable is the strength of fortitude than the grace of sensibility,
and I will also endeavour to fulfil the promise I then made; I will
not indulge in unavailing lamentation, but will try to endure, with
firmness, the oppression I cannot elude.'