The Governess [The Little Female Academy]
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Sarah Fielding >> The Governess [The Little Female Academy]
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The queen the next morning renewed her injunctions to her
daughter, that she should by no means go farther out of the wood
than into the meadow, where she was to meet Rozella, and that she
should give her a faithful account of all that should pass between
them.
They met according to appointment, and the princess brought home
so good an account of their conversation, which the queen imagined
would help to improve, rather than seduce her child, that she
indulged her in the same pleasure as often as she asked it. They
passed some hours every day in walking round that delightful wood,
in which were many small green meadows, with little rivulets
running through them, on the banks of which, covered with
primroses and violets, Rozella, by the side of her sweet
companion, used to sing the most enchanting songs in the world:
the words were chiefly in praise of innocence and a country life.
The princess came home every day more and more charmed with her
young shepherdess, and recounted, as near as she could remember,
every word that had passed between them. The queen very highly
approved of their manner of amusing themselves; but again enjoined
her to omit nothing that passed in conversation, especially if it
had the least tendency towards alluring her from her duty.
One day, as the princess Hebe and Rozella were walking alone, and
talking, as usual, of their own happy state, and the princess was
declaring how much her own happiness was owing to her thorough
obedience to her mother, Rozella, with a tone of voice as half in
jest, said, 'But don't you think, my little Hebe, that if I take a
very great pleasure in any thing that will do me no hurt, though
it is forbidden, I may disobey my parents in enjoying it, provided
I don't tell them of it to vex them with the thought that I have
disobeyed them? And then, my dear, what harm is done?'
'Great harm (answered the princess, looking grave and half angry):
I am ashamed to hear you talk so, Rozella. Are you not guilty of
treachery, as well as disobedience? Neither ought you to
determine that no harm is done, because you do not feel the
immediate effects of your transgression; for the consequence may
be out of our narrow inexperienced view; and I have been taught
whenever my mother lays any commands on me, to take it for
granted, she has some reason for so doing; and I obey her, without
examining what those reasons are; otherwise, it would not be
obeying her, but setting up my own wisdom, and doing what she bid
me, only when I thought proper.'
They held a long argument on this head, in which Rozella made use
of many a fallacy to prove her point; but the princess, as she had
not yet departed from Truth, nor failed in her duty, could not be
imposed upon. Rozella, seeing every attempt to persuade her was
in vain, turned all her past discourse into a jest; said she had
only a mind to try her; and was overjoyed to find her so steady in
the cause of truth and virtue. The princess resumed her usual
cheerfulness and good humour. Rozella sung her a song in praise
of constancy of mind; and they passed the rest of the time they
stayed together, as they used to do.
But, just before they parted, Rozella begged she would not tell
her mother of the first part of the conversation that had passed
between them. The princess replied, that it would be breaking
through one of her mother's commands, and therefore she dared not
grant her request. Then, said Rozella, 'Here I must for ever part
with my dear little Hebe. Your mother, not knowing the manner in
which I spoke, will have an ill opinion of me, and will never
trust you again in my company. Thus will you be torn from me; and
loss will be irreparable.' These words she accompanied with a
flood of tears, and such little tendernesses, as quite melted the
princess into tears also. But she still said, that she could not
dare to conceal from her mother anything that had happened, though
she could not but own, she believed their separation would be the
consequence. 'Well then (cried Rozella) I will endeavour to be
contented, as our separation will give you less pain than what you
call this mighty breach of your duty: and though I would
willingly undergo almost any torments that could be invented,
rather than be debarred one moment the company of my dearest Hebe,
yet I will not expect that she should suffer the smallest degree
of pain, or uneasiness, to save me from losing what is the whole
pleasure of my life.'
The princess could not bear the thought of appearing ungrateful to
such a warm friendship as Rozella expressed; and, without farther
hesitation, promised to conceal what she had said, and to undergo
anything, rather than lose so amiable a friend.
After this they parted. But when the princess entered the Grove,
she did not, as usual, run with haste and joy into the presence of
her indulgent mother; for her mind was disturbed: she felt a
conscious shame on seeing her, and turned away her face, as
wanting to shun the piercing look of that eye, which she imagined
would see the secret lurking in her bosom. Her mother observed
with concern her downcast look, and want of cheerfulness. And
asking her what was the matter, she answered, her walk had
fatigued her, and she begged early to retire to rest. Her kind
mother consented; but little rest had the poor princess that whole
night, for the pain of having her mind touched with guilt, and the
fear she was under of losing her dear companion, kept her thoughts
in one continued tumult and confusion. The fairy's gift now
became her curse; for the power of seeing what was right, as she
had acted contrary to her knowledge, only tormented her.
She hastened the next morning to meet Rozella, and told her all
that had passed in her own mind the preceding night; declaring
that she would not pass such another for the whole world; but yet
would not dispense with her promise to her, without her consent;
and therefore came to ask her leave to acquaint her good mother
with all that had passed: 'For (said she) my dear Rozella, we
must, if we would be happy, do always what is right, and trust for
the consequences.' Here Rozella drew her features into the most
contemptuous sneer imaginable, and said, 'Pray what are all these
mighty pains you have suffered? Are they not owing only to your
want of sense enough to know, that you can do your mother no harm,
by concealing from her this, or anything else that will vex her?
and, my dear girl (continued she) when you have once entered into
this way of thinking, and have put this blind duty out of your
head, you will spend no more such restless nights, which you must
see was entirely owing to your own imaginations.'
This startled the princess to such a degree, that she was breaking
from her, but, putting on a more tender air, Rozella cried, 'And
can you then, my dear Hebe, determine to give me up for such a
trifling consideration?' Then raising her voice again, in a
haughty manner, she said, 'I ought to despise and laugh at you for
your folly, or at best pity your ignorance, rather than offer a
sincere friendship to one so undeserving.'
The princess, having once swerved from her duty, was now in the
power of every passion that should attack her.
Pride and indignation, at the thought of being despised, bore more
sway with her, than either her duty or affection to her fond
mother; and she was now determined, she said, to think for
herself, and make use of her own understanding, which she was
convinced would always teach her what was right. Upon this
Rozella took her by the hand, and, with tears of joy, said, 'Now,
my dearest girl, you are really wise, and cannot therefore
(according to your own rule) fail of being happy. But to show
that you are in earnest in this resolution, you shall this morning
go home with me to my father's cot; it is not so far off, but you
will be back by the time your mother expects you; and as that will
be obeying the chief command, it is but concealing from her the
thing that would vex her, and there will be no harm done.' Here a
ray of truth broke in upon our young princess; but as a false
shame, and fear of being laughed at, had now got possession of
her, she, with a soft sigh, consented to the proposal.
Rozella led the way. But just as they were turning round the
walk, which leads out of the wood, a large serpent darted from one
side out of a thicket, directly between them, and turning its
hissing mouth towards the princess, as seeming to make after her,
she fled hastily back, and ran with all her speed towards the
grove, and panting for breath, flew into the arms of her ever kind
protectress.
Her mother was vastly terrified to see her tremble, and look so
pale; and as soon as she was a little recovered, asked her the
occasion of her fright, and added (with tears running down her
cheeks) 'I am afraid, my dear Hebe, some sad disaster has befallen
you, for, indeed, my child, I but too plainly saw last night--'
Here the princess was so struck with true shame and confusion, for
her past behaviour, that she fell down upon her knees, confessed
the whole truth, and implored forgiveness for her fault.
The queen kindly raised her up, kissed and forgave her. 'I am
overjoyed, my dear child (said she) at this your sweet repentance,
though the effect of mere accident, as it appears but sent,
without doubt, by some good fairy, to save you from destruction;
and I hope you are thoroughly convinced, that the serpent which
drove you home, was not half so dangerous as the false Rozella.'
The princess answered, that she was thoroughly sensible of the
dangers she had avoided, and hoped she never should again, by her
own folly and wickedness, deserve to be exposed to the danger from
which she had so lately escaped.
Some days passed, without the princess's offering to stir out of
the grove; and in that time she gave a willing and patient ear to
all her mother's instructions, and seemed thoroughly sensible of
the great deliverance she had lately experienced. But yet there
appeared in her countenance an uneasiness, which the queen wishing
to remove, asked her the cause of.
'It is, dear madam,' answered the princess, 'because I have not
yet had it in my power to convince you of my repentance, which
(though I know it to be sincere) you have had no proof of, but in
words only; and, indeed, my heart longs for an occasion to show
you, that I am now able to resist any allurement which would tempt
me from my duty; and I cannot be easy till you have given me an
opportunity of showing you the firmness of my resolution; and if
you will give me leave to take a walk in the wood alone, this
evening, I shall return to you with pleasure, and will promise not
to exceed any bounds that you shall prescribe.'
The queen was not much pleased with this request; but the princess
was so earnest with her to grant it, that she could not well
refuse, without seeming to suspect her sincerity; which she did
not, but only feared for her safety, and, giving her a strict
charge, not to stir a step out of the wood, or to speak to the
false Rozella, if she came in her way, she reluctantly gave her
consent.
The princess walked through all the flowery labyrinths, in which
she had so often strayed with Rozella; but she was so shocked with
the thoughts of her wickedness, that she hardly gave a sigh for
the loss of a companion once so dear to her; and as a proof that
her repentance was sincere, though she heard Rozella singing in an
arbour (purposely perhaps to decoy her) she turned away without
the least emotion, and went quite to the other side of the wood;
where looking into the meadow, in which she first beheld that
false friend, she saw a girl about her own age, leaning against a
tree, and crying most bitterly. But the moment she came in sight,
the young shepherdess (for such by her dress she appeared to be)
cried out, 'O help, dear young lady, help me; for I am tied here
to this tree, by the spiteful contrivance of a wicked young
shepherdess called Rozella: my hands too, you see, are bound
behind me, so that I cannot myself unloose the knot; and if I am
not released, here must I lie all night and my wretched parents
will break their hearts, for fear some sad accident should have
befallen their only child, their poor unhappy Florimel!'
The Princess, hearing her speak of Rozella in that manner, had no
suspicion of her being one of that false girl's deluding
companions; but rather thought that she was a fellow-sufferer with
herself; and therefore, without any consideration of the bounds
prescribed, she hastened to relieve her, and even thought that she
should have great pleasure in telling her mother, that she had
saved a poor young shepherdess from Rozella's malice, and restored
her to her fond parents. But as soon as she had unloosed the girl
from the tree, and unbound her hands, instead of receiving thanks
for what she had done, the wicked Florimel burst into a laugh, and
suddenly snatching from the Princess Hebe's side her father's
picture, which she always wore hanging in a ribbon, she ran away
with it, as fast as she could, over the meadow.
The Princess was so astonished at this strange piece of
ingratitude and treachery, and was so alarmed for fear of losing
what she knew her mother so highly valued, that hardly knowing
what she was about, she pursued Florimel with all her speed,
begging and entreating her not to bereave her so basely and
ungratefully of that picture, which she would not part with for
the world: but it was all to no purpose for Florimel continued
her flight, and the princess her pursuit, till they arrived at
Brunetta's castle-gate; where the fairy herself appeared dressed
and adorned in the most becoming manner, and, with the most
bewitching smile that can come from dazzling beauty, invited the
princess to enter her castle (into which Florimel was run to hide
herself) and promised her, on that condition, to make the idle
girl restore the picture.
It was now so late, that it was impossible for the princess to
think of returning home that night; and the pleasing address of
Brunetta, together with the hopes of having her picture restored,
soon prevailed with her to accept of the fairy's invitation.
The castle glittered with gaudy furniture; sweet music was heard
in every room; the whole company, who were all of the most
beautiful forms that could be conceived, strove who should be most
obliging to this their new guest. They omitted nothing that could
amuse and delight the senses. And the Princess Hebe was so
entranced with joy and rapture, that she had not time for thought,
or for the least serious reflection; and she now began to think,
that she had attained the highest happiness upon earth.
After they had kept her three days in this round of pleasure and
delight, they began to pull of the mask; nothing was heard but
quarrels, jars, and galling speeches. Instead of sweet music, the
apartments were filled with screams and howling; for every one
giving way to the most outrageous passions, they were always doing
each other some malicious turn, and only universal horror and
confusion reigned.
The princess was hated by all, and was often asked, with insulting
sneers, why she did not return to her peaceful grove, and
condescending mother? But her mind having been thus turned aside
from what was right, could not bear the thoughts of returning; and
though by her daily tears, she showed her repentance, shame
prevented her return: but this again was not the right sort of
shame; for then she would humbly have taken the punishment due to
her crime; and it was rather a stubborn pride, which, as she knew
herself so highly to blame, would not give her leave to suffer the
confusion of again confessing her fault; and till she could bring
herself to such a state of mind, there was no remedy for her misery.
Just as Miss Jenny had read these words, Mrs. Teachum remembering
some orders necessary to give in her family, left them, but bid
them go on, saying she would return again in a quarter of an hour.
But she was no sooner gone from them, than our little company,
hearing the sound of trumpets and kettle-drums, which seemed to be
playing at some little distance from Mrs. Teachum's house, suddenly
started from their seats, running directly to the terrace; and,
looking over the garden wall, they saw a troop of soldiers riding
by, with these instruments of music playing before them.
They were highly delighted with the gallant and splendid
appearance of these soldiers, and watched them till they were out
of sight, and were then returning to their arbour, where Miss
Jenny had been reading; but Miss Nanny Spruce espied another such
troop coming out of the lane from whence the first had issued, and
cried out, 'O! here is another fine sight; let us stay, and see
these go by too.' 'Indeed (said Miss Dolly Friendly) I am in such
pain for the poor princess Hebe, while she is in that sad castle,
that I had rather hear how she escaped (for that I hope she will)
than see all the soldiers in the world; and besides, it is but
seeing the same thing we have just looked at before.' Here some
were for staying, and others for going back; but as Miss Dolly's
party was the strongest, the few were ashamed to avow their
inclinations; and they were returning to the arbour, when they met
Mrs. Teachum, who informed them their dancing master was just
arrived, and they must attend him; but in the evening they might
finish their story.
They were so curious (and especially Miss Dolly Friendly) to know
what was to become of the princess, that they could have wished
not to have been interrupted; but yet, without one word of answer,
they complied with what their governess thought most proper; and
in the evening, hastening to their arbour, Mrs. Teachum herself
being present, Miss Jenny went on in the following manner:
THE FAIRY TALE CONTINUED.
The queen, in the meantime, suffered for the loss of her child
more than words can express, till the good fairy Sybella returned.
The queen burst into tears at the sight of her; but the fairy
immediately cried out, 'You may spare yourself, my royal guest,
the pain of relating what has happened. I know it all; for that
old man, whom I took such pity on, was a phantom, raised by
Brunetta, to allure me hence, in order to have an opportunity, in
my absence, of seducing the princess from her duty. She knew
nothing but a probable story could impose on me, and therefore
raised that story of the misery of the old man's son (from motives
which too often, indeed, cause the misery of mortals); as knowing
I should think it my duty to do what I could to relieve such a
wretch. I will not tell you all my journey, nor what I have gone
through. I know your mind is at present too much fixed on the
princess, to attend to such a relation I'll only tell you what
concerns yourself. When the phantom found, that by no distress he
could perturb my mind, he said he was obliged to tell the truth,
what was the intention of my being deluded from home, and what had
happened since; and then vanished away.' Here the fairy related
to the queen everything that had happened to the princess, as has
already been written; and concluded with saying, that she would
wander about the castle walls (for Brunetta had no power over
her); and if she could get a sight of the princess, she would
endeavour to bring her to a true sense of her fault, and then she
might again be restored to happiness.
The queen blessed the fairy for her goodness; and it was not long
before Sybella's continual assiduity got her a sight of the
princess; for she often wandered a little way towards that wood
she had once so much delighted in, but never could bring herself
to enter into it: the thought of seeing her injured mother made
her start back, and run half wild into the fatal castle. Rozella
used frequently to throw herself in her way; and on hearing her
sighs, and seeing her tears, would burst into a sneering laugh at
her folly; to avoid which laugh, the poor princess first suffered
herself to throw off all her principles of goodness and obedience,
and was now fallen into the very contempt she so much dreaded.
The first time the fairy got a sight of her, she called to her
with the most friendly voice; but the princess, stung to the soul
with the sight of her, fled away, and did not venture out again in
several days. The kind Sybella began almost to despair of
regaining her lost child; but never failed walking round the
castle many hours every day. And one evening, just before the sun
set, she heard within the gates a loud tumultuous noise, but more
like riotous mirth, than either the voice either of rage or anger;
and immediately she saw the princess rush out at the gate, and
about a dozen girls, laughing and shouting, running after her.
The poor princess flew with all her speed till she came to a
little arbour, just by the side of the wood; and her pursuers, as
they intended only to tease her, did not follow her very close;
but, as soon as they lost sight of her, turned all back again to
the castle.
Sybella went directly into the arbour, where she found the little
trembler prostrate on the ground, crying and sobbing as if her
heart was breaking. The fairy seized her hand, and would not let
her go till she had prevailed with her to return to the Placid
Grove, to throw herself once more at her mother's feet, assuring
her, that nothing but this humble state of mind could cure her
misery and restore her wonted peace.
The queen was filled with the highest joy to see her child; but
restrained herself so much, that she showed not the least sign of
it, till she had seen her some time prostrate at her feet, and had
heard her with tears properly confess, and ask pardon for, all her
faults. She then raised, and once more forgave her; but told her
that she must learn more humility and distrust of herself, before
she should again expect to be trusted.
The princess answered not, but with a modest downcast look which
expressed her concern and true repentance, and in a short time
recovered her former peace of mind; and as she never afterwards
disobeyed her indulgent mother, she daily increased in wisdom and
goodness.
After having lived on in the most innocent and peaceful manner for
three years (the princess being just turned of eighteen years old)
the fairy told the queen that she would now tell her some news of
her kingdom, which she had heard in her journey; namely, that her
sister-in-law was dead, and her brother-in-law had made proclamation
throughout the kingdom, of great rewards to any one who should
produce the queen and the Princess Hebe, whom he would immediately
reinstate on the throne.
The Princess Hebe was by when she related this, and said she
begged to lead a private life, and never more be exposed to the
temptation of entering into vice, for which she already had so
severely smarted.
The fairy told her, that, since she doubted herself, she was now
fit to be trusted; for, said she, 'I did not like your being so
sure of resisting temptation, when first I conferred on you the
gift of wisdom. But you will, my princess, if you take the crown,
have an opportunity of doing so much good, that, if you continue
virtuous, you will have perpetual pleasures; for power, if made a
right use of, is indeed a very great blessing.'
The princess answered, that if the queen, her mother, thought it
her duty to take the crown, she would cheerfully submit, though a
private life would be otherwise her choice.
The queen replied, that she did not blame her for choosing a
private life; but she thought she could not innocently refuse the
power that would give her such opportunities of doing good, and
making others happy; since, by that refusal, the power might fall
into hands that would make an ill use of it.
After this conversation, they got into the same car in which they
travelled to the wood of Ardella; arrived safely at the city of
Algorada; and the Princess Hebe was seated, with universal
consent, on her father's throne; where she and her people were
reciprocally happy, by her great wisdom and prudence; and the
queen-mother spent the remainder of her days in peace and joy, to
see her beloved daughter prove a blessing to such numbers of human
creatures; whilst she herself enjoyed that only true content and
happiness this world can produce; namely, a peaceful conscience,
and a quiet mind.
When Miss Jenny had finished her story, Mrs. Teachum left them for
the present, that they might with the utmost freedom make their
own observations; for she knew she should be acquainted with all
their sentiments from Miss Jenny afterwards.
The little hearts of all the company were swelled with joy, in
that the Princess Hebe was at last made happy; for hope and fear
had each by turns possessed their bosoms for the fate of the
little princess; and Miss Dolly Friendly said, that Rozella's
artful manner was enough to have drawn in the wisest girl into her
snares; and she did not see how it was possible for the Princess
Hebe to withstand it, especially when she cried for fear of
parting with her.
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