Mary Powell Deborahs Diary | Page 9

Space under the Hawthorn Hedge on the Brow of the
Hill, listening to the Mower's Scythe, and the Song of Birds, which
seemed enough for him, without talking; and as he spake not, I helde
my Peace, till, with the Sun in my Eyes, I was like to drop asleep;
which, as his own Face was from me, and towards the Landskip, he
noted not. I was just aiming, for Mirthe's Sake, to steale away, when he
suddainlie turned about and fell to speaking of rurall Life, Happinesse,
Heaven, and such like, in a Kind of Rapture; then, with his Elbow half
raising him from the Grass, lay looking at me; then commenced
humming or singing I know not what Strayn, but 'twas of 'begli Occhi'
and 'Chioma aurata;' and he kept smiling the while he sang.
After a time we went In-doors; and then came my firste Pang: for
Father founde out how I had pledged myselfe overnighte; and for a
Moment looked soe grave, that my Heart misgave me for having beene
soe hastie. However, it soone passed off; deare Father's Countenance
cleared, and he even seemed merrie at Table; and soon after Dinner alle
the Party dispersed save Mr. Milton, who loitered with me on the
Terrace. After a short Silence he exclaimed, "How good is our God to
us in alle his Gifts! For Instance, in this Gift of Love, whereby had he
withdrawn from visible Nature a thousand of its glorious Features and
gay Colourings, we shoulde stille possess, from within, the Means of
throwing over her clouded Face an entirelie different Hue! while as it is,
what was pleasing before now pleaseth more than ever! Is it not soe,
sweet Moll? May I express thy Feelings as well as mine own, unblamed?
or am I too adventurous? You are silent; well, then, let me believe that
we think alike, and that the Emotions of the few laste Hours have given
such an Impulse to alle that is high, and sweete, and deepe, and pure,
and holy in our innermoste Hearts, as that we seeme now onlie firste to
taste the Life of Life, and to perceive how much nearer Earth is to
Heaven than we thought! Is it soe? Is it not soe?" and I was constrayned
to say, "Yes," at I scarcelie knew what; grudginglie too, for I feared
having once alreadie sayd "Yes" too soone. But he saw nought amisse,
for he was expecting nought amisse; soe went on, most like Truth and
Love that Lookes could speake or Words founde: "Oh, I know it, I feel
it:--henceforthe there is a Life reserved for us in which Angels may
sympathize. For this most excellent Gift of Love shall enable us to read

together the whole Booke of Sanctity and Virtue, and emulate eache
other in carrying it into Practice; and as the wise Magians kept theire
Eyes steadfastlie fixed on the Star, and followed it righte on, through
rough and smoothe, soe we, with this bright Beacon, which indeed is
set on Fire of Heaven, shall pass on through the peacefull Studdies,
surmounted Adversities, and victorious Agonies of Life, ever looking
steadfastlie up!"
Alle this, and much more, as tedious to heare as to write, did I listen to,
firste with flagging Attention, next with concealed Wearinesse;--and as
Wearinesse, if indulged, never is long concealed, it soe chanced, by
Ill-luck, that Mr. Milton, suddainlie turning his Eyes from Heaven upon
poor me, caughte, I can scarcelie expresse how slighte, an Indication of
Discomforte in my Face; and instantlie a Cloud crossed his owne,
though as thin as that through which the Sun shines while it floats over
him. Oh, 'twas not of a Moment! and yet in that Moment we seemed
eache to have seene the other, though but at a Glance, under new
Circumstances:--as though two Persons at a Masquerade had just
removed their Masques and put them on agayn. This gave me my
seconde Pang:--I felt I had given him Payn; and though he made as
though he forgot it directly, and I tooke Payns to make him forget it, I
coulde never be quite sure whether he had.
. . . My Spiritts were soe dashed by this, and by learning his Age to be
soe much more than I had deemed it, (for he is thirty-five! who coulde
have thoughte it?) that I had, thenceforthe, the Aire of being much
more discreete and pensive than belongeth to my Nature; whereby he
was, perhaps, well pleased. As I became more grave he became more
gay; soe that we met eache other, as it were, half-way, and became
righte pleasant. If his Countenance were comely before, it is quite
heavenlie now; and yet I question whether my Love increaseth as
rapidlie