As I mentioned the other day, I'm in the midst of reading a novel set in the 16th century (see here, no, it's not Outlander), and I ran across this passage that hit me. This is between two women at a party looking out over the crowd. One, Margery, is young and being forced to marry someone she doesn't love. The other, Susannah, is older and settled in her ways.
"Do you love him?"
She hesitated again, and Margery could see that she was torn between discretion and compassion. "I shouldn't answer that."
"No, of course not, I apologize - again."
"But I can see that you're in distress, so I'll confide in you, provided you promise never to repeat what i say."
"I promise."
"Brecknock and I are friends," she said. "He's kind to me and I do everything I can to please him. And we have four wonderful children. I am happy." She paused, and Margery waited for the answer to her question. At last Susannah said: "But I know there is another kind of happiness, the mad ecstasy of adoring someone and being adored in return."
"Yes!" Margery was glad that Susannah understood.
"That particular joy is not given to all of us," she said solemnly.
Follett, Ken. A Column of Fire
Kinda a sad view of live heh? Is it just a product of those times? Of arranged marriages? Reminds me of what Sissy said in Umbrella Academy from a few months back (see here). Shouldn't that particular joy be something we follow up on when we do find it? If we ever do?
Elizabeth, Betsy
Evershade, evershades, ever shade, ever shades, shades of Betsy
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