former, so
is she unequal to the task of comprehending Cadurcis. An imaginative
being makes her tremble; such a creature can only be a monster. The
praises bestowed upon Cadurcis do not shake her prejudices. His cousin,
a brave sailor--a Tory, whose nature is as noble as it is frank and
loyal--in vain tells her that Cadurcis is one of the most generous, most
amiable, and most praiseworthy of men. In vain does he assure her that
notwithstanding the difference of their political opinions, he can
scarcely give her an idea of the delicacy and unbounded goodness which
he has shown--that his heart is perfect, that his intellect is the
finest that ever existed, and that if his conduct has at times been a
little irregular, allowances must be made for the temptations which
assailed him at the age of twenty-one, the sole master of his acts, and
with all London at his feet. "It is too much for any one's head; but say
or think what the world may, I know there is not a finer creature in
existence. Venetia, who feels the truth of all this, inwardly exclaims,
'Dear, dear Cadurcis, can one be surprised at your being beloved when
you are so generous, so amiable, so noble, so affectionate!' But the
poor child in vain recalls to her mother the conduct of Plantagenet, who
displays constancy in his true affections. 'No,' exclaims Lady Annabel,
'minds like his have no heart, a different impulse directs their
existence--I mean imagination.'"

Lady Annabel tortures her daughter, to extort from her the promise that
she will never marry Lord Cadurcis. Her devotion for that daughter,
which seemed to be the essence of her life, is no longer in this
hard-hearted woman but a form of her egotism; and Venetia, vexed in all
her natural sentiments, instead of being the idol of her affections,
becomes in reality the martyr of her pride.

After dwelling upon the agony of mind experienced by these two beautiful
and loving souls, both victims of Lady Annabel's cruelty, Disraeli shows
us Cadurcis a prey to despair; enduring the consequences of the
fashionable life which he is compelled to lead, that is, of the
dissipated existence which he wades through against his will; the
victim, besides, of the jealous and fanatical love of the great lady
whose yoke he had not been able as yet to shake off. A duel between him
and the lady's husband is the result, and nothing is more admirable than
the picture of Lord Byron (or Lord Cadurcis) in all the scenes which
pr