CHAPTER VIII


Pride is a very good salve, when one has no humility; and it was Pride
that I applied to myself to heal the wounds I had.

I came down again to the Great Chamber, half an hour later, very cold
and dignified, and danced again, like the solemn fool that I was, first
with one and then with another; and all the while I told myself, like
the prophet that "I did well to be angry"; and that I would shew her
that no man, of my ability, could depend upon any mere woman for his
content. Yet the pain at my heart was miserable.

It is very near incredible to me now how I, who truly knew something of
the world, and of men and of affairs, could be so childish and ignorant
in a matter of this sort. In truth this was what I was; I knew nothing
of true love at all; how therefore should I be a proper lover? I saw my
Cousin Tom, who mopped himself a great deal, eyeing me now and again;
and he presently came up and asked me where Dolly was.

"In her chamber, I think," said I, with my nose in the air; and with
such a manner that he said no more.

It was enough to break my heart to continue dancing; but it was the task
I had set myself upstairs; and till near ten o'clock we continued to
dance--but no Dolly to help us. I had even determined how I should bear
myself if she came--and how superb should be my dignity; but she did not
come to see it. We ended with singing "Here's a health unto His
Majesty"; and I took care that my voice should be loud so that she