wers, and hymns, and incense,
and flattery;--so, after a few years of his marriage my honest Lord
Castlewood began to tire; all the high-flown raptures and devotional
ceremonies with which his wife, his chief priestess, treated him, first
sent him to sleep, and then drove him out of doors; for the truth must
be told, that my lord was a jolly gentleman, with very little of the
august or divine in his nature, though his fond wife persisted in
revering it--and, besides, he had to pay a penalty for this love, which
persons of his disposition seldom like to defray: and, in a word, if he
had a loving wife, had a very jealous and exacting one. Then he wearied
of this jealousy; then he broke away from it; then came, no doubt,
complaints and recriminations; then, perhaps, promises of amendment
not fulfilled; then upbraidings not the more pleasant because they
were silent, and only sad looks and tearful eyes conveyed them. Then,
perhaps, the pair reached that other stage which is not uncommon in
married life, when the woman perceives that the god of the honeymoon is
a god no more; only a mortal like the rest of us--and so she looks into
her heart, and lo! vacuae sedes et inania arcana. And now, supposing our
lady to have a fine genius and a brilliant wit of her own, and the magic
spell and infatuation removed from her which had led her to worship as
a god a very ordinary mortal--and what follows? They live together, and
they dine together, and they say "my dear" and "my love" as heretofore;
but the man is himself, and the woman herself: that dream of love is
over as everything else is over in life; as flowers and fury, and griefs
and pleasures, are over.

Very likely the Lady Castlewood had ceased to adore her husband herself
long before she got off her knees, or would allow her household to
discontinue worshipping him. To do him justice, my lord never exacted
this subservience: he laughed and joked and drank his bottle, and
swore when he was angry, much too familiarly for any one pretending to
sublimity; and did his best to destroy the ceremonial with which his
wife chose to surround him. And it required no great conceit on young
Esmond's part to see that his own brains were better than his patron's,
who, indeed, never assumed any airs of superiority over the lad, or
over any dependant of his, save when he was displeased, in which case he
would express his mind in oaths very freely; and who, on the contrary,
perhaps, spoiled "Pa