"This shall be the Banquet of my Mind, all Times, besides those Devoted to my Sighs, and Sadness!"

— Pix, Mary (c.1666-1720)

Place of Publication
Printed for John Harding and Richard Wilkin
"This shall be the Banquet of my Mind, all Times, besides those Devoted to my Sighs, and Sadness!"
Metaphor in Context
Even in these very Weeds to be for ever shrowded (said Emilius)and far, far hence removed; at once forsaking, what to Death I loath; and what more than Life I lov'd! This must not be (Lovisa interrupts him): Rob not the World, and your Unhappy Country, of Virtues, which as they are Exemplary, shou'd be Conspicuous: that the Great Example may incourage a degenerate Age; and make the Subject blush at Vices which his Prince abhors. Ah! Do not vainly wast the last, and only precious moments of my Life (cry'd Emilius.) Death, or a Cell, I've swore, by all that's Sacred! Therefore no more, my Love; look on me, as a Wretch that's dying, as one Condemn'd; without the possibility of a Reprieve; with gentle pity sooth the rugged'st blow of Fate, Eternal Parting. And for the Ease of my divided Heart, which with unbated Passion still will heave and swell, and pant at thought of thee, give me thy Promise to keep thy Faith inviolate. When, I, low as the Dust, shall grovel in my distant humble Cell; let me hug this thought; not Crowns, nor Youth, or Beauty, tempts Lovisa to entertain another Love; and blot the lost Emilius from her constant Mind. Is this all, thou dear Deserver (said Lovisa, looking on him with the kindest aspect in the World?) Ah! poor return for so much worth; for so much Love, I'd be lavish in my Protestations, were there need; but sure Emilius neither knows himself, nor me, when he requires one. You are for a Cell, and where, think you, I am to be dispos'd? Not in a Court, I'll promise ye! Distant, indeed, our Cells will be; but the thinking Mind can travail, in one moment, many Leagues. I'll beg of Heaven, it may be no Offence to dedicate, each Day, some lov'd peculiar hours to thee. I'll think of every tender word, and look, and Blush, as it were Acting o'er again. This shall be the Banquet of my Mind, all Times, besides those Devoted to my Sighs, and Sadness! Oh! unequal'd Charmer (answer'd the Transported Prince) why dost thou talk thus? Why did I beg for Kindness, when my foolish nature cannot bear it! That I cou'd now, this instant, fall a Victim at thy Feet; and thereby Eternalize the greatest Flame, that e'er possest the Heart of Man! But I will live; and suffer for thee! Yes, my Fair Saint! Judge thou thy self, if 'tis not greater Pain to live than dye; to live without the Wretched'st last Comfort, Hope; to rave; to love like me; even to Madness Love. And in all these heights, to leave Thee! Parted by Seas, and Wilds, and Alps, and what's yet a greater Bar, a Father's Curse! Thou Cold Benumming Hand of all-destroying Death, seize me. Embalm'd by my Lovisa's Tears! At her Feet Expiring is a quick Conveyance to a quiet Grave; a Blessing I wou'd court with the same Eagerness, as others shun approaching Fate.' His looks, which the very Image and Impress of unartificial sorrow bore, gave terror to his words, and wou'd have pierc't Souls more insensible than Lovisa's, or her fair Friend's. That Friend, a sorrowful Spectator of this dismal Meeting, told Lovisa she heard the Gates open; and believ'd it was for Don Alvarez, who was coming to seek her. Lovisa Conducted Emilius away, to avoid her Uncle, out of this Inner Grove. At parting, Grief grew too big for Words: A strict Embrace, and mingl'd Tears, conclude the cruel Separation. Not that Lovisa fear'd Don Alvarez's knowing the Prince in his Disguise: only the mutual Trouble, and Confusion they were in, was too visible, and of necessity must have been perceiv'd. This occasion'd her to hasten him away, before her Uncle reacht the Place.
(pp. 191-4)
C-H Lion
Mary Pix, The Inhumane Cardinal, or Innocence Betray'd. A Novel. Written By a Gentlewoman, for the Entertainment of the Sex. (London: Printed for John Harding and Richard Wilkin, 1696).
Date of Entry

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.