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Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1804-1864

"The Blithedale Romance"

Tell him he has murdered me! Tell him that I'll haunt him!
"--She spoke these words with the wildest energy.--"And give him--no,
give Priscilla--this!"
Thus saying, she took the jewelled flower out of her hair; and it
struck me as the act of a queen, when worsted in a combat,
discrowning herself, as if she found a sort of relief in abasing all
her pride.
"Bid her wear this for Zenobia's sake," she continued. "She is a
pretty little creature, and will make as soft and gentle a wife as
the veriest Bluebeard could desire. Pity that she must fade so soon!
These delicate and puny maidens always do. Ten years hence, let
Hollingsworth look at my face and Priscilla's, and then choose
betwixt them. Or, if he pleases, let him do it now."
How magnificently Zenobia looked as she said this! The effect of her
beauty was even heightened by the over-consciousness and
self-recognition of it, into which, I suppose, Hollingsworth's scorn
had driven her. She understood the look of admiration in my face;
and--Zenobia to the last--it gave her pleasure.
"It is an endless pity," said she, "that I had not bethought myself
of winning your heart, Mr. Coverdale, instead of Hollingsworth's. I
think I should have succeeded, and many women would have deemed you
the worthier conquest of the two. You are certainly much the
handsomest man. But there is a fate in these things. And beauty, in
a man, has been of little account with me since my earliest girlhood,
when, for once, it turned my head.


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