Pelham — Volume 07 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 17 of 78 (21%)
page 17 of 78 (21%)
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"Never let vice be done by halves--never let a man invest all his purer
affections in the woman he ruins--never let him cherish the kindness, if he gratifies the selfishness, of his heart. A profligate, who really loves his victim, is one of the most wretched of beings. In spite of my successful and triumphant passion--in spite of the delirium of the first intoxication of possession, and of the better and deeper delight of a reciprocity of thought--feeling, sympathy, for the first time, found;--in the midst of all the luxuries my wealth could produce, and of the voluptuous and spring-like hues with which youth, health, and first love, clothe the earth which the loved one treads, and the air which she inhales: in spite of these, in spite of all, I was any thing but happy. If Gertrude's cheek seemed a shade more pale, or her eye less bright, I remembered the sacrifice she had made me, and believed that she felt it too. It was in vain, that, with a tender and generous devotion--never found but in woman--she assured me that my love was a recompense for all; the more touching was her tenderness, the more poignant my remorse. I never loved but her; I have never, therefore, entered into the common- place of passion, and I cannot, even to this day, look upon her sex as ours do in general. I thought, I think so still, that ingratitude to a woman is often a more odious offence--I am sure it contains a more painful penalty--than ingratitude to a man. But enough of this; if you know me, you can penetrate the nature of my feelings--if not, it is in vain to expect your sympathy. "I never loved living long in one place. We travelled over the greater part of England and France. What must be the enchantment of love, when accompanied with innocence and joy, when, even in sin, in remorse, in grief, it brings us a rapture to which all other things are tame. Oh! those were moments steeped in the very elixir of life; overflowing with the hoarded fondness and sympathies of hearts too full for words, and yet |
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