By Westminster Bridge my good fortune made me meet Sir Edgar, a rich young Englishman, who lived a careless and joyous life. I had made his acquaintance at Lord Pembroke's, and he had dined with me several times. We suited one another, his conversation was agreeable, and we had passed many pleasant hours together. I tried to avoid him, but he saw me, and came up and took me by the arm in a friendly manner.
"Where are you going? Come with me, unless you are going to deliver some captive. Come along, we shall have a pleasant party."
"I can't come, my dear fellow, let me go."
"What's the matter? I hardly recognized you, you looked so solemn."
"Nothing is the matter."
"Nothing? You should look at your face in the glass. Now I feel quite sure that you are going to commit a foolish action."
"Not at all."
"It's no good denying it."
"I tell you there's nothing the matter with me. Good bye, I shall see you again."
"It's no good, I won't leave you. Come along, we will walk together."
His eyes happening to fall on my breeches pocket, he noticed my pistol, and putting his hand on the other pocket he felt the other pistol, and said,--
"You are going to fight a duel; I should like to see it. I won't interfere with the affair, but neither will I leave you."
I tried to put on a smile, and assured him that he was mistaken, and that I was only going for a walk to pass the time.
"Very good," said Edgar, "then I hope my society is as pleasant to you as yours is to me; I won't leave you. After we have taken a walk we will go and dine at the 'Canon.' I will get two girls to come and join us, and we shall have a gay little party of four."
"My dear friend, you must excuse me; I am in a melancholy mood, and I
want to be alone to get over it."
"You can be alone to-morrow, if you like, but I am sure you will be all right in the next three hours, and if not, why I will share your madness. Where did you think of dining?"
"Nowhere; I have no appetite. I have been fasting for the last three days, and I can only drink."
"Ah! I begin to see daylight. Something has crossed you, and you are going to let it kill you as it killed one of my brothers. I must see what can be done."
Edgar argued, insisted, and joked till at last I said to myself, "A
day longer will not matter, I can do the deed when he leaves me, and I shall only have to bear with life a few hours longer."
When Edgar heard that I had no particular object in crossing the bridge he said that we had better turn back, and I let myself be persuaded; but in half an hour I begged him to take me somewhere where I could wait for him, as I could not bear the weight of the lead any longer. I gave him my word of honour that I would meet him at the "Canon."
As soon as I was alone I emptied my pockets, and put the leaden balls into a cupboard. Then I lay down and began to consider whether the good-natured young man would prevent me committing suicide, as he had already made me postpone it.
I reasoned, not as one that hopes, but rather as one that foresaw that Edgar would hinder me from shortening my days. Thus I waited in the tavern for the young Englishman, doubtful whether he was doing me a service or an injury.
He came back before long, and was pleased to find me.
"I reckoned on your keeping your word," said he.
"You did not think that I would break my word of honour."
"That's all right; I see you are on the way to recovery."
The sensible and cheerful talk of the young man did me good, and I
began to feel better, when the two young wantons, one of whom was a Frenchwoman, arrived in high spirits. They seemed intended for pleasure, and Nature had dowered them with great attractions. I
appreciated their charms, but I could not welcome them in the manner to which they were accustomed. They began to think me some poor valetudinarian; but though I was in torments, a feeling of vanity made me endeavour to behave sensibly. I gave them some cold kisses and begged Edgar to tell his fellow-countrywoman that if I were not three parts dead I would prove how lovely and charming I thought her.
They pitied me. A man who has spent three days without eating or sleeping is almost incapable of any voluptuous excitement, but mere words would not have convinced these priestesses of Venus if Edgar had not given them my name. I had a reputation, and I saw that when they heard who I was they were full of respect. They all hoped that Bacchus and Comus would plead the cause of Love, and I let them talk, knowing that their hopes were vain.
We had an English dinner; that is, a dinner without the essential course of soup, so I only took a few oysters and a draught of delicious wine, but I felt better, and was pleased to see Edgar amusing himself with the two nymphs.
The young madcap suddenly proposed that the girls should dance a hornpipe in the costume of Mother Eve, and they consented on the condition that we would adopt the dress of Father Adam, and that blind musicians were summoned. I told them that I would take off my clothes to oblige them, but that I had no hopes of being able to imitate the seductive serpent. I was allowed to retain my dress, on the condition that if I felt the prick of the flesh I should immediately undress. I agreed to do so, and the blind musicians were sent for, and while they tuned their instruments toilettes were made, and the orgy began.
It taught me same useful lessons. I learnt from it that amorous pleasures are the effect and not the cause of gaiety. I sat gazing at three naked bodies of perfect grace and beauty, the dance and the music were ravishing and seductive, but nothing made any impression on me. After the dance was over the male dancer treated the two females, one after the other, until he was forced to rest. The French girl came up to ascertain whether I skewed any signs of life, but feeling my hopeless condition she pronounced me useless.
When it was all over I begged Edgar to give the French girl four guineas, and to pay my share, as I had very little money about me.
What should I have said if I had been told in the morning that instead of drowning myself I should take part in so pleasant an entertainment?
