Fielding, Sarah (1710-1768) and Jane Collier (bap. 1715, d. 1755)

The Cry: A New Dramatic Fable

London

Printed for R. and J. Dodsley in Pall Mall

1754

"I found I had given a loose to a passion which had no other end but to make me frantic, and consequently miserable; and yet insupportable as my life was, and altho' the alteration of Eustace had taken from me the gratification of this whirlwind of passion, yet was I caught in such a snare, that I had no power left even to endeavour at the conquest of it."

Cylinda. The next morning after I arrived in London, I dispatched a note toEustace, acquainting him where I lodged, and desiring to see him. It would be end less and insipid to repeat all the various alluring arts I made use of to inveigle him from his wife: be it sufficient to say, that at last I conquered, and with great propriety may it be said that Eustace yielded; for I was the pursuer, and still maintained the masculine freedom of character which I originally had assumed. But I could no longer divert myself by Proteus-like putting on that character which best suited my fancy; for I was now chain'd down and enslaved to the most rigid of all tyrants, an uncontroulable passion; and for near a twelvemonth I led, or rather endured, a life I cannot describe, and hate to remember. I had constantly been told by all my lovers, that my understanding and spirit scorning to be confined within limits, had soared above an effeminate character, and struck out a new and uncommon road of life. That the beauty of my own person, join'd to the sprightliness of my imagination, gave me the power of bestowing the the most exquisite pleasure, so that I feared no rival; besides that I had hitherto never put it in any man's power to draw a tear from my eyes, or a sigh from my bosom, for his neglect: but Eustace, altho' the steadiness of his mind failed him, and suffered him to be ensnared by the alluring temptations I threw in his way, yet he would live decently with his wife. This was the only kind of rival I could have dreaded; and the place I found she held in his esteem in preference to me, struck me to the heart. He, conscious he was doing wrong, lost that good-humour which had rendered him more exquisitely pleasing than any man with whom I had been before acquainted: so that I found I had given a loose to a passion which had no other end but to make me frantic, and consequently miserable; and yet insupportable as my life was, and altho' the alteration of Eustace had taken from me the gratification of this whirlwind of passion, yet was I caught in such a snare, that I had no power left even to endeavour at the conquest of it. The jealousy I was possessed of concerning his wife, found full employment for all my thoughts, and kept me in too tumultuous an uproar to give me any leisure for reflexion, or opportunity to form any resolution for my own peace. My self-admiration was lost; I found all my boasted strength was nothing more than a defence against enemies, too weak to overcome an infant. But the moment my[image] temptation became real and dangerous, it failed, and was found good for nothing: my learning and philosophy too I now easily perceived were inadequate to any other purpose than mere amusement; so that I had no refuge to fly to, but yielded myself up as a sacrifice to a passion which was a continual torment, and which by the unlucky situation of both Eustace and myself, produced very little pleasure to either of us. Under the dominion of this torturing love or racking jealousy, for it was such a mixture of contradiction that I hardly know what name to give it, I continued, till Eustace once failing his appointed time for twenty minutes, which my imagination as easily enhanced to as many hours, I with impatience sent a servant to his own house, to enquire privately concerning him; but when the messenger returned, with an account that Eustace and his whole family had set out from London the day before, and had endeavoured to conceal where they were going, the confusion of my mind was beyond description: his absence filled my soul with grief; his flight called forth all my indignation; and my ignorance where to follow him threw me into the most raging despair. I had ranted with Dido on the beginning of her passion for Æneas, and now her ravings for his flight were full as well adapted to my present circumstances. My whole soul being thus alarm'd, my imagination could rove in no path but in that of Dido's death. Her example struck me with admiration; and in such a situation as her's (as well as my own) I began to think that death alone was eligible. This was no sooner settled in my mind, than many arguments from the remembrance of my philosophic days presented themselves to confirm my opinion; which were all strongly corroborated by my present abhorrence of life. Philosophy had told me that death was no evil; my own immediate sensations informed me that life was no good: how naturally then did I draw a conclusion, that to death alone the preference was justly due!
(pp. 79-83)

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2 entries in ESTC (1754).

See Fielding, Sarah and Jane Collier, The Cry: A New Dramatic Fable, 3 vols. (London: Printed for R. and J. Dodsley in Pall Mall, 1754). <Link to ESTC>

Ruling Passion

01/27/2005

03/11/2010