He brought Edmund to the baron, and acquainted him with the proposal he had been making in his name, my Lord’s answers, and the objections he feared on the part of Sir Robert. Edmund kneeled to the baron; he took his hand and pressed it to his lips.
“Best of men! of parents! of patrons!” said he, “I will ever be your son in filial affection, whether I have the honour to be legally so or not; not one of your own children can feel a stronger sense of love and duty.”
“Tell me,” said the baron, “do you love my daughter?”
“I do, my lord, with the most ardent affection; I never loved any woman but her; and, if I am so unfortunate as to be refused her, I will not marry at all. Oh, my Lord, reject not my honest suit! Your alliance will give me consequence with myself, it will excite me to act worthy of the station to which I am exalted; if you refuse me, I shall seem an abject wretch, disdained by those whom my heart claims relation to; your family are the whole world to me. Give me your lovely daughter! give me also your son, my beloved William; and let me share with them the fortune Providence bestows upon me. But what is title or fortune, if I am deprived of the society of those I love?”
“Edmund,” said the baron, “you have a noble friend; but you have a stronger in my heart, which I think was implanted there by Heaven to aid its own purposes. I feel a variety of emotions of different kinds, and am afraid to trust my own heart with you. But answer me a question: Are you assured of my daughter’s consent? have you solicited her favour? have you gained her affections?”
“Never, my lord. I am incapable of so base an action; I have loved her at an humble distance; but, in my situation, I should have thought it a violation of all the laws of gratitude and hospitality to have presumed to speak the sentiments of my heart.”
“Then you have acted with unquestionable honour on this, and, I must say, on all other occasions.”
“Your approbation, my lord, is the first wish of my life; it is the seal of my honour and happiness.”
Sir Philip smiled: “My Lord Fitz-Owen, I am jealous of Edmund’s preferable regard for you; it is just the same now as formerly.”
Edmund came to Sir Philip, he threw himself into his arms, he wept, he was overpowered with the feelings of his heart; he prayed to Heaven to strengthen his mind to support his inexpressible sensations.
“I am overwhelmed with obligation,” said he; “oh, best of friends, teach me, like you, to make my actions speak for me!”
“Enough, Edmund; I know your heart, and that is my security. My lord, speak to him, and bring him to himself, by behaving coldly to him, if you can.”
The baron said, “I must not trust myself with you, you make a child of me. I will only add, gain my son Robert’s favour, and be assured of mine; I owe some respect to the heir of my family; he is brave, honest, and sincere; your enemies are separated from him, you have William’s influence in your behalf; make one effort, and let me know the result.”
Edmund kissed his hand in transports of joy and gratitude.
“I will not lose a moment,” said he; “I fly to obey your commands.”
Edmund went immediately to his friend William, and related all that had passed between the baron, Sir Philip, and himself. William promised him his interest in the warmest manner; he recapitulated all that had passed in the castle since his departure; but he guarded his sister’s delicacy, till it should be resolved to give way to his address. They both consulted young Clifford, who had conceived an affection to Edmund for his amiable qualities, and to William for his generous friendship for him. He promised them his assistance, as Sir Robert seemed desirous to cultivate his friendship. Accordingly, they both attacked him with the whole artillery of friendship and persuasion. Clifford urged the merits of Edmund, and the advantages of his alliance. William enforced his arguments by a retrospect of Edmund’s past life; and observed, that every obstacle thrown in his way had brought his enemies to shame, and increase of honour to himself. “I say nothing,” continued he, “of his noble qualities and affectionate heart; those who have been so many years his companions, can want no proofs of it.”
“We know your attachment to him, sir,” said Sir Robert; “and, in consequence, your partiality.”
“Nay,” replied William, “you are sensible of the truth of my assertions; and, I am confident, would have loved him yourself, but for the insinuations of his enemies. But if he should make good his assertions, even you must be convinced of his veracity.”
“And you would have my father give him your sister upon this uncertainty?”
“No, sir, but upon these conditions.”
“But suppose he does not make them good?”
“Then I will be of your party, and give up his interest.”
“Very well, sir; my father may do as he pleases; but I cannot agree to give my sister to one who has always stood in the way of our family, and now turns us out of our own house.”
“I am sorry, brother, you see his pretensions in so wrong a light; but if you think there is any imposture in the case, go with us, and be a witness of all that passes.”
“No, not I; if Edmund is to be master of
