King Copethua's Wife, Chapters XIII-XIV [pp. 292-299]

Overland monthly and Out West magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 9

King Cophetua's Wife. that go to make up the charming whole, and yet quite unable to say wherein the charm lies. I had stood looking out of a window for a few moments before the soft portiere was pushed back with the musical sound of silver rings striking against each other, and Madge came to greet me. She had a peculiarly sweet smile in those days-a smile that had a pathos in it, quite unlike the merry, girlish smile with which she met me first at Ellenwood. "'I think you always come to me when I need you most," she said by way of salutation, and with her hand in mine. "I have been restless all the morning, and everything jars upon me. Books have exasperating endings, poems are full of false rhymes and overstrained sentiment, my piano has a note out of tune, and my voice is harsh to-day. Altogether, I am simply unhappy, and you have come, as you always do, just when I need you." ' Then let us pray that I may leave you in a happier and more restful condition," I answered half-banteringly. "And I think that it may be we can do no better than to lay our tribute on the altar of this'Praying Boy.' Perhaps his outstretched arms raised toward the sun will bring our petitions near to light and fulfillment." And as I spoke I put the bowl of flowers upon the pedestal of the statue. "It may be the wisest way." She took my attempt at lightness seriously enough. "I think we all like to stand off and leave insensate things to do our praying for us; but, do you know, I have been wishing lately that I could believe I had a patron saint, and pray to him or her. I think my prayers, in the multitude that are going up to God from broken hearts, must seem so very small and pitiful to him. It would be a happy thought that some one stood ready to bear my petitions straight to the Master, some one at favor in court who might look direct upon the face of the king." "Why, Madge, my friend, what is the trouble to-day? You have been so brave, so steadfast in your course hitherto: are you giving way now? Is it anything new?" "No, nothing new. I think nothing that is new can ever come to me now. I seem to have lived through every phase of existence, to have endured and enjoyed all that one possibly could endure or enjoy, and the only new experience for me could be death. Yet even that I have been through with, for death is only a dissolution of hopes and fears, and"-after a pause-"I have neither now." "But your music: surely you appreciate your success before the world; your fame is something to you, is it not? I stood at the back of the hall while you sang last night, and to me your face seemed lighted up as though you had reached some inner temple of life's sanctuary, and found peace and happiness there." "Ah, last night! While I was singing one of the arias in the Oratorio the audience melted away from before me, and I seemed to be standing on tip-toe, and singing right into the ear of God. I had lost all thought of myself, and so of course I was happy and content. But when, as to-day, I am conscious of myself-of all my ills and uncomfortablenesses-I grow so restless, so distrustful, that I am unfit for anything. Why"and she rose and stood before me-"why am I not constituted like other women? I know many a soft-voiced, pure-eyed woman who, if she had one-tenth my anguish, would drown it by the morphine powders of excitement. Look at these letters. Here are invitations to private dinners, assurances of ardent devotion, perfumed sentences of love all the tricks of insult that men know so well how to direct against a defenseless and suffering woman. How many, how many of the woman friends you and your wife pos sess would let these go unnoticed, and not seek to forget, in the poor delirium they offer, the pangs and distress of the sickness that is upon them? Do not speak: you can say nothing to calm me; let me say out that which is within my heart to say. "I have not spoken of my husband since you came home from Europe. Do you think it has been because he is not in my thoughts? I have lain down at night with 1883.] 297

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King Copethua's Wife, Chapters XIII-XIV [pp. 292-299]
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Bensel, James Berry
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Overland monthly and Out West magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 9

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"King Copethua's Wife, Chapters XIII-XIV [pp. 292-299]." In the digital collection Making of America Journal Articles. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/ahj1472.2-02.009. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 24, 2025.
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