The Vampyre; a Tale
kissed her cheek, wet with tears, flowing at the thought of her
brother's being once more alive to the feelings of affection. He began
to speak with all his wonted warmth, and to congratulate her upon her
marriage with a person so distinguished for rank and every
accomplishment; when he suddenly perceived a locket upon her breast;
opening it, what was his surprise at beholding the features of the
monster who had so long influenced his life. He seized the portrait in
a paroxysm of rage, and trampled it under foot. Upon her asking him
why he thus destroyed the resemblance of her future husband, he looked
as if he did not understand her--then seizing her hands, and gazing
on her with a frantic expression of countenance, he bade her swear
that she would never wed this monster, for he---- But he could not
advance--it seemed as if that voice again bade him remember his
oath--he turned suddenly round, thinking Lord Ruthven was near him
but saw no one. In the meantime the guardians and physician, who had
heard the whole, and thought this was but a return of his disorder,
entered, and forcing him from Miss Aubrey, desired her to leave him.
He fell upon his knees to them, he implored, he begged of them to
delay but for one day. They, attributing this to the insanity they
imagined had taken possession of his mind, endeavoured to pacify him,
and retired.
Lord Ruthven had called the morning after the drawing-room, and had
been refused with every one else. When he heard of Aubrey's ill
health, he readily understood himself to be the cause of it; but when
he learned that he was deemed insane, his exultation and pleasure
could hardly be concealed from those among whom he had gained this
information. He hastened to the house of his former companion, and, by
constant attendance, and the pretence of great affection for the
brother and interest in his fate, he gradually won the ear of Miss
Aubrey. Who could resist his power? His tongue had dangers and toils
to recount--could speak of himself as of an individual having no
sympathy with any being on the crowded earth, save with her to whom he
addressed himself;--could tell how, since he knew her, his existence,
had begun to seem worthy of preservation, if it were merely that he
might listen to her soothing accents;--in fine, he knew so well how to
use the serpent's art, or such was the will of fate, that he gained
her affections. The title of the elder branch falling at length to
him, he obtained an important embassy, which served as an excuse for
hastening the marriage, (in spite of her brother's deranged state,)
which was to take place the very day before his departure for the
continent.
Aubrey, when he was left by the physician and his guardians, attempted
to bribe the servants, but in vain. He asked for pen and paper; it was
given him; he wrote a letter to his sister, conjuring her, as she
valued her own happiness, her own honour, and the honour of those now
in the grave, who once held her in their arms as their hope and the
hope of their house, to delay but for a few hours that marriage, on
which he denounced the most heavy curses. The servants promised they
would deliver it; but giving it to the physician, he thought it better
not to harass any more the mind of Miss Aubrey by, what he considered,
the ravings of a maniac. Night passed on without rest to the busy
inmates of the house; and Aubrey heard, with a horror that may more
easily be conceived than described, the notes of busy preparation.
Morning came, and the sound of carriages broke upon his ear. Aubrey
grew almost frantic. The curiosity of the servants at last overcame
their vigilance, they gradually stole away, leaving him in the custody
of an helpless old woman. He seized the opportunity, with one bound
was out of the room, and in a moment found himself in the apartment
where all were nearly assembled. Lord Ruthven was the first to
perceive him: he immediately approached, and, taking his arm by
force, hurried him from the room, speechless with rage. When on the
staircase, Lord Ruthven whispered in his ear--"Remember your oath,
and know, if not my bride to day, your sister is dishonoured. Women
are frail!" So saying, he pushed him towards his attendants, who,
roused by the old woman, had come in search of him. Aubrey could no
longer support himself; his rage not finding vent, had broken a
blood-vessel, and he was conveyed to bed. This was not mentioned to
his sister, who was not present when he entered, as the physician was
afraid of agitating her. The marriage was solemnized, and the bride
and bridegroom left London.
Aubrey's weakness increased; the effusion of blood produced symptoms
of the near approach of death. He desired his sister's guardians might
be called, and when the midnight hour had struck, he related
composedly what the reader has perused--he died immediately after.
The guardians hastened to protect Miss Aubrey; but when they arrived,
it was too late. Lord Ruthven had disappeared, and Aubrey's sister had
glutted the thirst of a VAMPYRE!
________________________________________________________________
EXTRACT OF A LETTER,
CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT
OF
LORD BYRON'S RESIDENCE
IN THE
ISLAND OF MITYLENE.
________________________________________________________________
ACCOUNT
OF
LORD BYRON'S RESIDENCE, &c.
______________
"The world was all before him, where to choose his place of rest, and
Providence his guide."
IN Sailing through the Grecian Archipelago, on board one of his
Majesty's vessels, in the year 1812, we put into the harbour of
Mitylene, in the island of that name. The beauty of this place, and
the certain supply of cattle and vegetables always to be had there,
induce many British vessels to visit it--both men of war and
merchantmen; and though it lies rather out of the track for ships
bound to Smyrna, its bounties amply repay for the deviation of a
voyage. We landed; as usual, at the bottom of the bay, and whilst the
men were employed in watering, and the purser bargaining for cattle
with the natives, the clergyman and myself took a ramble to the cave
called Homer's School, and other places, where we had been before. On
the brow of Mount Ida (a small monticule so named) we met with and
engaged a young Greek as our guide, who told us he had come from Scio
with an English lord, who left the island four days previous to our
arrival in his felucca. "He engaged me as a pilot," said the Greek,
"and would have taken me with him; but I did not choose to quit
Mitylene, where I am likely to get married. He was an odd, but a very
good man. The cottage over the hill, facing the river, belongs to him,
and he has left an old man in charge of it: he gave Dominick, the
wine-trader, six hundred zechines for it, (about L250 English
currency,) and has resided there about fourteen months, though not
constantly; for he sails in his felucca very often to the different
islands."
This account excited our curiosity very much, and we lost no time in
hastening to the house where our countryman had resided. We were
kindly received by an old man, who conducted us over the mansion. It
consisted of four apartments on the ground-floor--an entrance hall, a
drawing-room, a sitting parlour, and a bed-room, with a spacious
closet annexed. They were all simply decorated: plain green-stained
walls, marble tables on either side, a large myrtle in the centre, and
a small fountain beneath, which could be made to play through the
branches by moving a spring fixed in the side of a small bronze Venus
in a leaning posture; a large couch or sofa completed the furniture.
In the hall stood half a dozen English cane chairs, and an empty
book-case: there were no mirrors, nor a single painting. The
bedchamber had merely a large mattress spread on the floor, with two
stuffed cotton quilts and a pillow--the common bed throughout Greece.
In the sitting-room we observed a marble recess, formerly, the old man
told us, filled with books and papers, which were then in a large
seaman's chest in the closet: it was open, but we did not think
ourselves justified in examining the contents. On the tablet of the
recess lay Voltaire's, Shakspeare's, Boileau's, and Rousseau's works
complete; Volney's Ruins of Empires; Zimmerman, in the German
language; Klopstock's Messiah; Kotzebue's novels; Schiller's play of
the Robbers; Milton's Paradise Lost, an Italian edition, printed at
Parma in 1810; several small pamphlets from the Greek press at
Constantinople, much torn, but no English book of any description.
Most of these books were filled with marginal notes, written with a
pencil, in Italian and Latin. The Messiah was literally scribbled all
over, and marked with slips of paper, on which also were remarks.
The old man said: "The lord had been reading these books the evening
before he sailed, and forgot to place them with the others; but,"
said he, "there they must lie until his return; for he is so
particular, that were I to move one thing without orders, he would
frown upon me for a week together; he is otherways very good. I once
did him a service; and I have the produce of this farm for the trouble
of taking care of it, except twenty zechines which I pay to an aged
Armenian who resides in a small cottage in the wood, and whom the lord
brought here from Adrianople; I don't know for what reason."
The appearance of the house externally was pleasing. The portico in
front was fifty paces long and fourteen broad, and the fluted marble
pillars with black plinths and fret-work cornices, (as it is now
customary in Grecian architecture,) were considerably higher than the
roof. The roof, surrounded by a light stone balustrade, was covered by
a fine Turkey carpet, beneath an awning of strong coarse linen. Most
of the house-tops are thus furnished, as upon them the Greeks pass
their evenings in smoking, drinking light wines, such as "lachryma
christi," eating fruit, and enjoying the evening breeze.
On the left hand as we entered the house, a small streamlet glided
away, grapes, oranges and limes were clustering together on its
borders, and under the shade of two large myrtle bushes, a marble seat
with an ornamental wooden back was placed, on which we were told, the
lord passed many of his evenings and nights till twelve o'clock,
reading, writing, and talking to himself. "I suppose," said the old
man, "praying" for he was very devout, "and always attended our church
twice a week, besides Sundays."
The view from this seat was what may be termed "a bird's-eye view."
A line of rich vineyards led the eye to Mount Calcla, covered with
olive and myrtle trees in bloom, and on the summit of which an ancient
Greek temple appeared in majestic decay. A small stream issuing from
the ruins descended in broken cascades, until it was lost in the woods
near the mountain's base. The sea smooth as glass, and an horizon
unshadowed by a single cloud, terminates the view in front; and a
little on the left, through a vista of lofty chesnut and palm-trees,
several small islands were distinctly observed, studding the light
blue wave with spots of emerald green. I seldom enjoyed a view more
than I did this; but our enquiries were fruitless as to the name of
the person who had resided in this romantic solitude: none knew his
name but Dominick, his banker, who had gone to Candia. "The Armenian,"
said our conductor, "could tell, but I am sure he will not,"--"And
cannot you tell, old friend?" said I--"If I can," said he, "I dare