Acteon surprises Diana
Clare has been reading Sir Charles Grandison, written by Samuel Richardson in 1753, a book that Jane Austen read. (The edition is so old, Clare is cutting the pages as she proceeds through its vast length.) Last night she read me this passage. Lady G, Sir Charles’ sister, recounts being caught breastfeeding by her husband, Lord G.
The nurse, the nursery maids, knowing that I would not for the world have been so caught by my nimble lord, (for he is in twenty places in a minute) were more affrighted than Diana’s nymphs, when the goddess was surprised by Acteon; and each, instead of surrounding me in order to hide my blushes, was for running in a different way; not so much as attempting to relieve me from the brat.
I was ready to let the little leech drop from my arms. “Oh wretch!” screamed I – “Begone – begone!”
Never was a man in greater rapture. For Lady Gertrude had taught him to wish that a mother would be a mother: he threw himself at my feet, clasping me and the little varlet together, in his arms. “Brute!” said I, “will you smother my Harriet?” I was half-ashamed of my tenderness – “Dear-est, dear-est Lady G.” – shaking his head, between every dear and est – “how you transport me! Never, never, never saw I so delightful a sight! Let me behold again the dear sight. Let me see you clasp the precious gift, our Harriet’s Harriet too to that lovely bosom.”
“Begone, Lord G.,” said I – “See! see! How shall I hold the little marmouset, if you devour first one of my hands, then the other!”
He took the little thing from me, kissed its forehead, its cheek, its lips, its pudsey little hands, first one, then the other; gave it again to my arms; took it again; and again resigned it to me.
“Take away the pug,” said I to the attendants – “Take it away while any of it is left.” They rescued the babe, and ran away with it.
