Читать книгу The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney - Frances Burney - Страница 154

Nor did he rest here; notwithstanding the excess of terror for his safety, and doubt of further mischief, with which all his family and all his household were seized, he still maintained the most cheerful composure, and insisted upon walking on the terrace, with no other attendant than his single equerry.

The poor queen went with him, pale and silent,—the princesses followed, scarce yet commanding their tears. In the evening, just as usual, the king had his concert: but it was an evening of grief and horror to his family: nothing was listened to, scarce a word was spoken; the princesses wept continually; the queen, still more deeply struck, could only, from time to time, hold out her hand to the king, and say, “I have you yet!”

The affection for the king felt by all his household has been at once pleasant and affecting to me to observe: there has not been a dry eye in either of the Lodges, on the recital of his danger, and not a face but his own that has not worn marks of care ever since.

I put off my visit to my dear Mrs. Delany; I was too much horror-struck to see her immediately; and when, at night, I went to her, I determined to spare her the shock of this event till the next day. . . . General Bude and Major Price were with Mrs. Schwellenberg at my return; and not a word was uttered by either of them concerning the day’s terrific alarm. There seemed nothing but general consternation and silence.

When I went to the queen at night she scarce once opened her lips. Indeed I could not look at her without feeling the tears ready to start into my eyes. But I was very glad to hear again the voice of the king, though only from the next apartment, and calling to one of his dogs.

August 3—The poor queen looked so ill that it was easy to see how miserable had been her night. It is unfortunately the unalterable opinion of Mrs. Schwellenberg that some latent conspiracy belongs to this attempt, and therefore that it will never rest here. This dreadful suggestion preys upon the mind of the queen, though she struggles to conquer or conceal it. I longed passionately this morning, when alone with her, to speak upon the matter, and combat the opinion; but as she still said nothing, it was not possible.

When she was dressed for the chapel, she desired me to keep little Badine; but he ran out after her: I ran too, and in the gallery, leading from the queen’s room to mine, all the princesses, and their governesses, were waiting for the queen. They all looked very ill, the princess royal particularly.—O well indeed might they tremble! for a father more tender, more kind, more amiable, I believe has scarcely ever had daughters to bless. . . .

I then passed on to my own room, which terminates this gallery. But I have since heard it is contrary to rule to pass even the door of an apartment in which any of the royal family happen to be, if it is open. However, these little formalities are all dispensed with to the ignorant—and as I learn better I shall observe them more. I am now obliged to feel and find my way as I can, having no friend, adviser, nor informer in the whole house. Accident only gives me any instruction, and that generally arrives too late to save all error. My whole dependence is upon the character of the queen; her good sense and strong reason will always prevent the unnecessary offence of ranking mistakes from inexperience, with disrespect or inattention. I have never, therefore, a moment’s uneasiness upon these points. Though there is a lady who from time to time represents them as evils the most heinous.¹⁷⁷

I had afterwards a letter from my poor Mrs. Delany, written with her own hand, and with a pencil, as she is now too indistinct of sight to see even a word. She writes therefore only by memory, and, if with pen and ink, cannot find her place again when she leaves it, to dip the pen in the inkstand.

She had escaped the news at the chapel, but had been told it afterwards by Lady Spencer, lest it should reach her ears in any worse manner. You may imagine how greatly it shocked her.

I ran to answer her note in person, determining, upon such an occasion, to risk appearing before the queen a second time in my morning dress, rather than not satisfy my dear Mrs. Delany by word of mouth. I gave her all the comfort in my power, and raised her agitated spirits by dwelling upon the escape, and slightly passing by the danger.

The queen was so late before her second summons that I was still in time. I found her with her eyes almost swollen out of her head, but more cheerful and easy, and evidently relieved by the vent forced, at length, to her tears.

She now first spoke upon the subject to me; inquiring how Mrs. Delany had borne the hearing it. I told her of the letter sent me in the morning, and half proposed shewing it, as it expressed her feelings beyond the power of any other words. She bowed her desire to see it, and I ran and brought it. She read it aloud, Mrs. Schwellenberg being present, and was pleased and soothed by it.