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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

He is your father, therefore
I respect him; but he has put it out of his power to oblige me; I
cannot accept his bounty. Though your heart, my dearest Pembroke, is
above all price, yet I will make it a sacrifice to your duty." And by
so doing put the last seal on my misfortunes, was the meaning of the
heavy sigh which accompanied his last words.
Pembroke traversed the room in an agony. "Merciful Providence!" cried
he, wringing his clasped hands, "direct me! Oh, Thaddeus, if you
could read my tortured heart, you would pity me; you would see that
this affair is tearing my soul from my body. What am I to do? I
cannot, I will not, part with you forever."
Thaddeus, with a calm sadness, drew him to a seat. "Be satisfied,"
said he, "that I am convinced of your affection. Whatever may happen,
this assurance will be sufficient to give me comfort; therefore, by
that affection, I entreat you, dear Pembroke, not to bring regret to
me, and reproach on yourself, by disobeying in any way the will of
your father in this matter! If we separate for life, remember, my
beloved friend, that the span of our existence here is short; we
shall meet again in a happier world--perhaps more blest, for having
immolated our wishes to hard duty in this."
"Cease, Sobieski, cease!" cried Pembroke; "I can draw no consolation
from this reasoning. It is not duty to obey a hatred little short of
distraction; and if we now separate, I feel that I never shall know
peace again.


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