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diff --git a/old/67612-0.txt b/old/67612-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e71c565..0000000 --- a/old/67612-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8434 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Love in Excess, by Eliza Fowler -Haywood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Love in Excess - or, the Fatal Enquiry, A Novel in Three Parts - -Author: Eliza Fowler Haywood - -Release Date: March 12, 2022 [eBook #67612] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Fay Dunn and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE IN EXCESS *** - - - - - - -[Illustration: _E. Kirkall fec._] - - - - - _LOVE in Excess_; - OR THE - FATAL ENQUIRY, - A - NOVEL. - - In THREE PARTS. - - By Mrs. HAYWOOD. - - ----_In vain from Fate we fly,_ - _For first or last, as all must die,_ - _So ’tis as much decreed above,_ - _That first or last, we all must Love._ - - LANSDOWN. - - The Fourth EDITION Corrected. - - _LONDON_: - Printed for D. BROWNE _jun._ at the _Black Swan_ without - _Temple Bar_. MDCCXXII. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -TO - -Mrs. ELIZ. HAYWOOD, - -ON HER - -NOVEL - -CALL’D - -_Love in Excess_, &c. - - - _Fain wou’d I here my vast Ideas raise,_ - _To paint the Wonders of ELIZA’s praise;_ - _But like young Artists where their Stroaks decay,_ - _I shade those Glories which I can’t display._ - _Thy Prose in sweeter Harmony refines,_ - _Than Numbers flowing thro’ the Muse’s Lines;_ - _What Beauty ne’er cou’d melt, thy Touches fire,_ - _And raise a Musick that can Love inspire;_ - _Soul-thrilling Accents all our Senses wound,_ - _And Strike with softness, whilst they Charm with sound!_ - _When thy COUNT pleads, what Fair his Suit can flye?_ - _Or when thy Nymph laments, what Eyes are dry?_ - _Ev’n Nature’s self in Sympathy appears,_ - _Yeilds Sigh for Sigh, and melts in equal Tears;_ - _For such Descriptions thus at once can prove_ - _The Force of Language, and the Sweets of Love._ - - _The Myrtle’s Leaves with those of Fame entwine,_ - _And all the Glories of that Wreath are thine?_ - _As Eagles can undazzl’d view the Force_ - _Of scorching PHŒBUS in his Noon-day Course;_ - _Thy Genius to the God its Luster plays,_ - _Meets his fierce Beams, and darts him Rays for Rays!_ - _Oh Glorious Strength! Let each succeeding Page_ - _Still boast those Charms and luminate the Age;_ - _So shall thy beamful Fires with Light divine_ - _Rise to the Sphere, and there triumphant Shine._ - - RICHARD SAVAGE. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -By an unknown Hand. - -To the most Ingenious Mrs HAYWOOD, on her NOVEL Entitled, - -_Love in Excess:_ - - - _A Stranger Muse, an Unbeliever too,_ - _That Womens Souls such Strength of Vigour knew!_ - _Nor less an Atheist to Love’s Power declar’d,_ - _Till YOU a Champion for the Sex appear’d!_ - _A Convert now, to both, I feel that Fire_ - _YOUR Words alone can paint! YOUR Looks inspire!_ - _Resistless now, Love’s shafts new pointed fly,_ - _Wing’d with YOUR Flame, and blazing in YOUR Eye._ - _With sweet, but pow’rful Force, the Charm-shot Heart_ - _Receives th’ Impression of the Conqu’ring Dart,_ - _And ev’ry Art’ry huggs the Joy-tipt Smart!_ - - _No more of PHŒBUS, rising vainly boast,_ - _Ye tawny Sons of a luxuriant Coast!_ - _While our blest Isle is with such Rays replete,_ - _BRITAIN shall glow with more than Eastern Heat!_ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VERSES - -Wrote in the Blank Leaf of - -Mrs. _Haywood_’s NOVEL. - - - _Of all the Passions given us from above,_ - _The Noblest, Truest, and the Best, is Love;_ - _’Tis Love awakes the Soul, informs the Mind,_ - _And bends the stubborn Temper to be kind,_ - _Abates the Edge of ev’ry poi’nant Care_ - _Succeeds the Wishes of the trembling Fair,_ - _And ravishes the Lover from Despair._ - _’Tis Love ELIZA’s soft Affections fires,_ - _ELIZA writes, but Love alone inspires;_ - _’Tis Love, that gives D’ELMONT his manly Charms,_ - _And tears AMENA from her Father’s Arms;_ - _Relieves the Fair one from her Maiden Fear,_ - _And gives MELLIORA all her Soul holds dear,_ - _A generous Lover, and a Bliss sincere._ - - _Receive, my Fair, the Story, and approve,_ - _The Cause of HONOUR, and the Cause of LOVE;_ - _With kind Concern, the tender Page peruse,_ - _And aid the Infant Labours of the Muse._ - _So never may those Eyes forget to shine,_ - _And bright MELLIORA’s Fortune be as Thine;_ - _On thy best Looks, an happy D’ELMONT feed,_ - _And all the Wishes of thy Soul succeed._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -LOVE in EXCESS: - -OR, THE - -FATAL ENQUIRY. - -PART the FIRST. - - -In the late War between the _French_ and the _Confederate_ Armies, there -were two BROTHERS, who had acquir’d a more than ordinary Reputation, -under the Command of the great and intrepid LUXEMBOURGH. But the -Conclusion of the Peace taking away any further Occasions of shewing -their Valour, the Eldest of ’em, whose Name was COUNT D’ELMONT, return’d -to PARIS, from whence he had been absent two Years, leaving his Brother -at St. OMER’s, ’till the Cure of some slight Wounds were perfected. - -The Fame of the _Count_’s brave Actions arriv’d before him, and he -had the Satisfaction of being receiv’d by the KING and COURT, after -a Manner that might gratify the Ambition of the proudest. The Beauty -of his Person, the Gayity of his Air, and the unequal’d Charms of his -Conversation, made him the Admiration of both Sexes; and whilst those of -his _own_ strove which should gain the largest share in his Friendship; -the _other_ vented fruitless Wishes, and in secret, curs’d that Custom -which forbids Women to make a Declaration of their Thoughts. Amongst the -Number of these, was ALOVISA, a Lady descended (by the Father’s Side) -from the Noble Family of the D’ LA TOURS formerly Lord of BEUJEY, and (by -her Mothers) from the equally Illustrious House of MONTMORENCY. The late -Death of her Parents had left her Coheiress (with her Sister,) of a vast -Estate. - -ALOVISA, if her Passion was not greater than the rest, her Pride, and -the good Opinion she had of her self, made her the less able to support -it; she sigh’d, she burn’d, she rag’d, when she perceiv’d the Charming -D’ELMONT behav’d himself toward her with no Mark of a distinguishing -Affection. What (said she) have I beheld without Concern a Thousand -Lovers at my Feet, and shall the only Man I ever endeavour’d, or wish’d -to Charm, regard me with Indifference? Wherefore has the agreeing World -join’d with my deceitful Glass to flatter me into a vain Belief I had -invincible Attractions? D’ELMONT sees ’em not! D’ELMONT is insensible. -Then would she fall into Ravings, sometimes cursing her own want of -Power, sometimes the Coldness of D’ELMONT. Many Days she pass’d in these -Inquietudes, and every time she saw him (which was very frequently) -either at Court, at Church, or publick Meetings, she found fresh Matter -for her troubled Thoughts to work upon: When on any Occasion he happen’d -to speak to her, it was with that Softness in his Eyes, and that engaging -tenderness in his Voice, as would half persuade her, that, that God had -touch’d his Heart, which so powerfully had Influenc’d hers; but if a -glimmering of such a Hope gave her a Pleasure inconceivable, how great -were the ensuing Torments, when she observ’d those Looks and Accents were -but the Effects of his natural Complaisance, and that to whomsoever he -Address’d, he carried an equality in his Behaviour, which sufficiently -evinc’d, his Hour was not yet come to feel those Pains he gave; and if -the afflicted fair Ones found any Consolation, it was in the Reflection, -that no Triumphant Rival could boast a Conquest, each now despair’d of -gaining. But the impatient ALOVISA disdaining to be rank’d with those, -whom her Vanity made her consider as infinitely her Inferiors, suffer’d -her self to be agitated almost to Madness, between the two Extreams of -Love and Indignation; a thousand _Chimeras_ came into her Head, and -sometimes prompted her to discover the Sentiments she had in his Favour: -But these Resolutions were rejected, almost as soon as form’d, and she -could not fix on any for a long time; ’till at last, Love (ingenious in -Invention,) inspir’d her with one, which probably might let her into the -Secrets of his Heart, without the Shame of revealing her own. - -The Celebration of Madam the Dutchess of BURGUNDY’s Birth-day being -Solemniz’d with great Magnificence; she writ this _Billet_ to him on the -Night before. - - [Illustration] - - To Count D’ELMONT. - - _Resistless as you are in War, you are much more so in Love; - Here you conquer without making an Attack, and we Surrender - before you Summons; the Law of Arms obliges you to show Mercy - to an yielding Enemy, and sure the Court cannot inspire less - generous Sentiments than the Field. The little God lays down - his Arrows at your Feet, confesses your superior Power, and - begs a Friendly Treatment; he will appear to you to morrow - Night at the Ball, in the Eyes of the most passionate of - all his Votresses; search therefore for him in Her, in whom - (amongst that bright Assembly) you would most desire to find - Him; I am confident you have too much Penetration to miss of - him, if not bypass’d by a former Inclination, and in that Hope, - I shall (as patiently as my Expectations will let me) support, - ’till then, the tedious Hours._ - - Farewell. - - -This she sent by a trusty Servant, and so disguis’d, that it was -impossible for him to be known, with a strict Charge to deliver it to -the _Count_’s own Hands, and come away before he had read it; the Fellow -perform’d her Orders exactly, and when the _Count_, who was not a little -surpriz’d at the first opening it, ask’d for the Messenger, and commanded -he should be stay’d; his Gentleman (who then was waiting in his Chamber,) -told him he ran down Stairs with all the speed imaginable, immediately -on his Lordship’s receiving it. D’ELMONT having never experienc’d -the Force of Love, could not presently comprehend the Truth of this -Adventure; at first he imagin’d some of his Companions had caus’d this -Letter to be wrote, either to sound his Inclinations, or upbraid his -little Disposition to Gallantry; but these Cogitations soon gave Place -to others; and tho’ he was not very vain, yet he found it no difficulty -to perswade himself to an Opinion, that it was possible for a Lady to -distinguish him from other Men. Nor did he find any thing so unpleasing -in that Thought as might make him endeavour to repell it; the more he -consider’d his own Perfections, the more he was confirm’d in his Belief, -but who to fix it on, he was at a Loss as much as ever; then he began -to reflect on all the Discourse, and little Railleries that had pass’d -between him and the Ladies whom he had convers’d with since his Arrival, -but cou’d find nothing in any of ’em of Consequence enough to make him -guess at the Person: He spent great part of the Night in Thoughts very -different from those he was accustom’d to, the Joy which naturally rises -from the Knowledge ’tis in one’s Power to give it, gave him Notions which -till then he was a Stranger to; he began to consider a Mistress as an -agreeable, as well as fashionable Amusement, and resolv’d not to be Cruel. - -In the mean time poor ALOVISA was in all the Anxiety imaginable, she -counted every Hour, and thought ’em Ages, and at the first dawn of Day -she rose, and calling up her Women, who were amaz’d to find her so -uneasy, she employ’d ’em in placing her Jewels on her Cloaths to the best -Advantage, while she consulted her Glass after what Manner she should -Dress, her Eyes, the gay; the languishing, the sedate, the commanding, -the beseeching Air, were put on a thousand times, and as often rejected; -and she had scarce determin’d which to make use of, when her Page brought -her Word, some Ladies who were going to Court desir’d her to accompany -them; she was too impatient not to be willing to be one of the first, -so went with them immediately, arm’d with all her Lightnings, but full -of unsettled Reflections. She had not been long in the Drawing Room, -before it grew very full of Company, but D’ELMONT not being amongst ’em, -she had her Eyes fix’d towards the Door, expecting every Moment to see -him enter; but how impossible is it to represent her Confusion, when he -appear’d, leading the young AMENA, Daughter to Monsieur _Sanseverin_, a -Gentleman, who tho’ he had a very small Estate, and many Children, had -by a partial Indulgence, too common among Parents, neglecting the rest, -maintain’d this Darling of his Heart in all the Pomp of Quality. The -Beauty and Sweetness of this Lady was present-Death to ALOVISA’s Hope’s; -she saw, or fancy’d she saw an usual Joy in her Eyes, and dying Love in -his; Disdain, Despair, and Jealousie at once crowded into her Heart, and -swell’d her almost to bursting; and ’twas no wonder that the violence of -such terrible Emotions kept her from regarding the Discourses of those -who stood by her, or the Devoirs that D’ELMONT made as he pass’d by, and -at length threw her into a Swoon; the Ladies ran to her assistance, and -her charming Rival, being one of her particular Acquaintance, shew’d an -extraordinary assiduity in applying Means for her Relief, they made what -hast they cou’d to get her into another Room, and unfasten her Robe, -but were a great while before they could bring her to herself; and when -they did, the Shame of having been so disorder’d in such an Assembly, -and the Fears of their suspecting the Occasion, added to her former -Agonies, had rack’d her with most terrible Revulsions, every one now -despairing of her being able to assist at that Night’s Entertainment, she -was put into her Chair, in order to be carry’d Home; AMENA who little -thought how unwelcome she was grown, would needs have one call’d, and -accompany’d her thither, in spight of the Intreaties of D’ELMONT, who had -before engag’d her for his Partner in Dancing; not that he was in Love -with her, or at that time believ’d he cou’d be touch’d with a Passion -which he esteem’d a Trifle in it self, and below the Dignity of a Man of -Sense; but Fortune (to whom this Lady no less enamour’d than ALOVISA) -had made a thousand Invocations, seem’d to have allotted her the glory -of his first Addresses; she was getting out of her Chariot just as he -alighted from his, and offering her his Hand, he perceiv’d hers trembled, -which engaging him to look upon her more earnestly than he was wont, he -immediately fancy’d he saw something of that languishment in her Eyes, -which the obliging Mandate had describ’d: AMENA was too lovely to make -that Belief disagreeable, and he resolv’d on the Beginnings of an Amour, -without giving himself the trouble of considering the Consequences; the -Evening being extreamly pleasant, he ask’d if she wou’d not favour him so -far as to take a turn or two within the Palace-Garden; She who desir’d -nothing more than such a particular Conversation, was not at all backward -of complying; he talk’d to her there for some time, in a manner as could -leave her no room to doubt he was entirely Charm’d, and ’twas the Air -such an Entertainment had left on both their Faces, as produc’d those sad -Effects in the jealous ALOVISA. She was no sooner led to her Apartment, -but she desir’d to be put to Bed, and the good natur’d AMENA, who really -had a very great kindness for her, offer’d to quit the Diversions of the -Ball, and stay with her all Night; but the unfortunate ALOVISA was not -in a Condition to endure the Presence of any, especially her, so put -her off as civilly as her Anxiety would give her leave, chusing rather -to suffer her to return to the Ball, than retain so hateful an Object -(as she was now become) in her sight; and ’tis likely the other was not -much troubled at her Refusal. But how, (when left alone, and abandon’d -to the whirlwinds of her Passion,) the desperate ALOVISA behav’d, none -but those, who like her, have burn’d in hopeless Fires can guess, the -most lively Description wou’d come far short of what she felt; she -rav’d, she tore her Hair and Face, and in the extremity of her Anguish -was ready to lay violent Hands on her own Life. In this Tempest of Mind, -she continu’d for some time, till at length rage beginning to dissipate -it self in Tears, made way for cooler Considerations; and her natural -Vanity resuming its Empire in her Soul, was of no little Service to -her on this Occasion. Why am I thus disturb’d? Mean Spirited as I am! -Said she, D’ELMONT is ignorant of the Sentiments I am possess’d with -in his favour; and perhaps ’tis only want of Incouragement that has so -long depriv’d me of my Lover; my Letter bore no certain Mark by which -he might distinguish me, and who knows what Arts that Creature might -make use of to allure him. I will therefore (persu’d she, with a more -cheerful Countenance) direct his erring Search. As she was in this -Thought (happily for her, who else might have relaps’d) her Women who -were waiting in the next Room, came in to know if she wanted any thing; -yes, answer’d she, with a Voice and Eyes wholly chang’d, I’ll rise, one -of you help me on with my Cloaths, and let the other send CHARLO to me, -I have instant Business with him. ’Twas in vain for ’em to represent to -her the Prejudice it might be to her Health to get out of her Bed at so -unseasonable an Hour, it being then just Midnight: They knew her too -absolute a Mistress not to be obey’d, and executed her Commands, without -disputing the Reason. She was no sooner ready, than CHARLO was introduc’d -who being the same Person that carry’d the Letter to D’ELMONT, guess’d -what Affair he was to be concern’d in, and shut the Door after him. I -commend your Caution, said his Lady, for what I am now going to trust you -with, is of more concernment than my Life. The Fellow bow’d, and made a -thousand Protestations of an eternal Fidelity. I doubt it not, resum’d -she, go then immediately to the _Court_, ’tis not impossible but in this -hurry you may get into the Drawing Room; but if not, make some pretence -to stay as near as you can ’till the Ball be over; listen carefully to -all Discourses where you hear COUNT D’ELMONT mention’d, enquire who he -Dances with, and above all, watch what Company he comes out with, and -bring me an exact Account. Go, continu’d she hastily, these are all the -Orders I have for you to Night, but to Morrow I shall employ you farther. -Then turning to her _Escritore_, she sat down, and began to prepare a -second Letter, which she hop’d wou’d be more lucky than the former. She -was not long writing, Love and Wit, suggested a World of passionate and -agreeable Expressions to her in a Moment: But when she had finish’d -this so full a Discovery of her Heart, and was about to sign her Name -to it; not all that Passion which had inspir’d her with a Resolution to -scruple nothing that might advance the compassing her Wishes, nor the -vanity which assur’d her of Success, were forcible enough to withstand -the shock it gave her Pride; No, let me rather die! Said she, (starting -up and frighted at her own Designs) than be guilty of a Meanness which -wou’d render me unworthy of Life, Oh Heavens! To offer Love, and poorly -sue for Pity! ’tis insupportable! What bewitch’d me to harbour such a -Thought as even the vilest of my Sex wou’d blush at? To pieces then -(added she, tearing the Paper) with this shameful Witness of my Folly, -my furious Desires may be the destruction of my Peace, but never of my -Honour, that shall still attend my Name when Love and Life are fled. She -continu’d in this Temper (without being able to compose herself to rest) -till Day began to appear, and CHARLO returned with News which confirmed -her most dreaded Suspicions. He told her that he had gain’d admittance to -the Drawing Room several Times, under pretence of delivering Messages to -some of the Ladies; that the whole Talk among ’em was, that D’ELMONT, was -no longer insensible of Beauty; that he observ’d that Gentleman in very -particular Conference with AMENA, and that he waited on her Home in his -Chariot, her own not being in the way, I know it, said ALOVISA (walking -about in a disorder’d Motion) I did not doubt but that I was undone, and -to my other Miseries, have that of being aiding to my Rival’s Happiness: -Whatever his Desires were, he carefully conceal’d ’em, till my cursed -Letter prompted a Discovery; tenacious as I was, and too, too confident -of this little Beauty! Here she stop’d, and wiping away some Tears which -in spight of her ran down her Cheeks, gave CHARLO leave to ask if she had -any more Commands for him. Yes (answer’d she) I will write once more to -this undiscerning Man, and let him know, ’tis not AMENA that is worthy of -him; that I may do without prejudicing my Fame, and ’twill be at least -some Easement to my Mind, to undeceive the Opinion he may have conceiv’d -of her Wit, for I am almost confident she passes for the Authoress of -those Lines which have been so fatal to me; in speaking this, without any -further Thought, she once more took her Pen, and wrote these Words. - - [Illustration] - - _To Count_ D’ELMONT. - - _If Ambition be a Fault, ’tis only in those who have not a - sufficient stock of Merit to support it; too much Humility is a - greater in you, whose Person and Qualities are too admirable, - not to render any Attempt you shall make justifiable, as - well as successful. Heaven when it distinguish’d you in so - particular a Manner from the rest of Mankind, design’d you - not for vulgar Conquests, and you cannot without a manifest - Contradiction to its Will, and an irreparable Injury to your - self, make a present of that Heart to AMENA, when one, of - at least an equal Beauty, and far superior in every other - Consideration, would Sacrifice all to purchase the glorious - Trophy; continue then no longer in a wilful Ignorance, aim - at a more exalted flight, and you will find it no difficulty - to discover who she is that languishes, and almost dies for - an Opportunity of confessing (without too great a breach of - Modesty) that her Soul, and all the Faculties of it, are, and - must be_, - - Eternally Yours. - -This she gave to CHARLO, to deliver with the same Caution as the former; -but he was scarce got out of the House before a new Fear assaulted her, -and she repented her uncircumspection. What have I done, cry’d she! Who -knows but D’ELMONT may shew these Letters to AMENA, she is perfectly -acquainted with my Hand, and I shall be the most expos’d and wretched -Woman in the World. Thus Industrious was she in forming Notions to -Torment herself; nor indeed was there any thing of Improbability in -this Conjecture. There are too many ungenerous enough to boast such an -Adventure; but D’ELMONT tho’ he would have given good Part of his Estate -to satisfy his Curiosity, yet chose rather to remain in a perpetual -Ignorance, than make use of any Means that might be disadvantagious to -the Lady’s Reputation. He now perceiv’d his Mistake, and that it was -not AMENA who had taken that Method to engage him, and possibly was not -disgusted to find she had a Rival of such Merit, as the Letter intimated. -However, he had said too many fine Things to her to be lost, and thought -it as inconsistent with his Honour as his Inclination to desist a -Pursuit in which he had all the Reason in the World to assure himself of -Victory; for the young AMENA (little vers’d in the Art of Dissimulation, -so necessary to her Sex) cou’d not conceal the Pleasure she took in -his Addresses, and without even a seeming reluctancy, had given him a -Promise of meeting him the next Day in the _Tuilleries_; nor could all -his unknown Mistress had writ, perswade him to miss this Assignation, nor -let that be succeeded with another, and that by a third, and so on, ’till -by making a shew of Tenderness; he began to fancy himself really touch’d -with a Passion he only design’d to represent. ’Tis certain this way of -Fooling rais’d Desires in him little different from what is commonly -call’d Love; and made him redouble his Attacks in such a Manner, as AMENA -stood in need of all her Vertue to resist; but as much as she thought her -self oblig’d to resent such Attempts, yet he knew so well how to excuse -himself, and lay the Blame on the Violence of his Passion, that he was -still too Charming, and too Dear to her not to be forgiven. Thus was -AMENA (by her too generous and open Temper) brought to the very brink of -Ruin, and D’ELMONT was possibly contriving Means to compleat it, when her -Page brought him this Letter. - - [Illustration] - - To Count D’ELMONT. - - _Some Malicious Persons have endeavour’d to make the little - Conversation I have had with you, appear as Criminal; therefore - to put a stop to all such Aspersions, I must for the future - deny my self the Honour of your Visits, unless Commanded to - receive ’em by my Father, who only has the Power of disposing - of_ - - AMENA. - - -The Consternation he was in at the reading these Lines, so very different -from her former Behaviour, is more easily imagin’d than express’d, ’till -casting his Eyes on the Ground, he saw a small Note, which in the opening -of this, had fallen out of it, which he hastily took up, and found it -contain’d these Words. - - _I guess the Surprize my lovely Friend is in, but have not time - now to unriddle the Mystery: I beg you will be at your Lodgings - towards the Evening, and I will invent a Way to send to you._ - -’Twas now that D’ELMONT began to find there were _Embarrassments_ in -an Intrigue of this Nature, which he had not foreseen, and stay’d at -Home all Day, impatiently expecting the clearing of an Affair, which at -present seem’d so ambiguous. When it grew a little Duskish, his Gentleman -brought in a Young Woman, whom he immediately knew to be: ANARET, an -Attendant on AMENA; and when he had made her sit down, told her he hop’d -she was come to make an _Eclaircissment_, which would be very obliging to -him, and therefore desir’d she wou’d not defer it. - -My Lord, said she, ’tis with an unspeakable Trouble I discharge that -Trust my Lady has repos’d in me, in giving you a Relation of her -Misfortunes; but not to keep you longer in suspence, which I perceive -is uneasy to you; I shall acquaint you, that soon after you were gone, -my Lady came up into her Chamber, where, as I was preparing to undress -her, we heard Monsieur SANSEVERIN in an angry Tone ask where his Daughter -was, and being told she was above, we immediately saw him enter, with a -Countenance so inflam’d, as put us both in a mortal Apprehension. An ill -use (said he to her) have you made of my Indulgence, and the Liberty I -have allow’d you! Could neither the Considerations of the Honour of your -Family, your own Reputation, nor my eternal Repose, deter you from such -imprudent Actions, as you cannot be ignorant must be the inevitable Ruin -of ’em all. My poor Lady was too much surpriz’d at these cruel Words, -to be able to make any Answer to ’em, and stood trembling, and almost -fainting, while he went on with his Discourse. Was it consistent with the -Niceties of your Sex, said he, or with the Duty you owe me, to receive -the Addresses of a Person whose Pretensions I was a Stranger to? If the -Count D’ELMONT has any that are Honourable, wherefore are they conceal’d? -The Count D’ELMONT! (cry’d my Lady more frighted than before) never made -any Declarations to me worthy of your Knowledge, nor did I ever entertain -him otherwise, than might become your Daughter. ’Tis false (interrupted -he furiously) I am but too well inform’d of the contrary; nor has the -most private of your shameful Meetings escap’d my Ears! Judge, Sir, -in what a Confusion my Lady was in at this Discourse; ’twas in vain, -she muster’d all her Courage to perswade him from giving Credit to an -Intelligence so injurious to her; he grew the more enrag’d, and after a -thousand Reproaches, flung out of the Room with all the Marks of a most -violent Indignation, But tho’ your Lordship is too well acquainted with -the mildness of AMENA’S Disposition, not to believe she could bear the -Displeasure of a Father (who had always most tenderly lov’d her) with -indifference; yet ’tis impossible for you to imagine in what an excess of -Sorrow she was plung’d, she found every Passage of her ill Conduct (as -she was pleas’d to call it) was betray’d, and did not doubt but whoever -had done her that ill Office to her Father, wou’d take care the Discovery -should not be confin’d to him alone. Grief, Fear, Remorse, and Shame by -turns assaulted her, and made her incapable of Consolation; even the soft -Pleas of Love were silenc’d by their Tumultuous Clamours, and for a Time -she consider’d your Lordship in no other view than that of her Undoer. -How! cry’d D’ELMONT (interrupting her) cou’d my AMENA, who I thought -all sweetness, judge so harshly of me. Oh! my Lord, resum’d ANARET, -you must forgive those first Emotions, which as violent as they were, -wanted but your Presence to dissipate in a Moment; and if your Idea had -not presently that Power, it lost no Honour by having Foes to struggle -with, since at last it put ’em all to flight, and gain’d so entire a -Victory, that before Morning, of all her Troubles, scarce any but the -Fears of losing you remain’d. And I must take the Liberty to assure your -Lordship, my Endeavours were not wanting to establish a Resolution in her -to despise every thing for Love and you. But to be as brief as I can in -my Relation; the Night was no sooner gone, than Monsieur her Father came -into the Chamber, with a Countenance, tho’ more compos’d, than that with -which he left us, yet with such an Air of Austerity, as made my timerous -Lady lose most of the Spirit she had assum’d for this Encounter. I come -not now AMENA, said he, to upbraid or punish your Disobedience, if you -are not wholly abandon’d by your Reason, your own Reflections will be -sufficiently your Tormentors. But to put you in a way, (if not to clear -your Fame, yet to take away all Occasion of future Calumny,) you must -write to Count D’ELMONT. - -I will have no denials continu’d he, (seeing her about to speak) and -leading her to her Escritore, constrain’d her to write what he dictated, -and you receiv’d; just as she was going to Seal it, a Servant brought -word that a Gentleman desir’d to speak with Monsieur SANSEVERIN, he -was oblig’d to step into another Room, and that absence gave her an -Opportunity of writing a Note, which she dextrously slip’d into the -Letter, unperceiv’d by her Father at his return, who little suspecting -what she had done, sent it away immediately. Now, said he, we shall -be able to judge of the sincerity of the Count’s Affections, but till -then I shall take care to prove my self a Person not disinterested in -the Honour of my Family. As he spoke these Words, he took her by the -Hand, and conducting her, thro’ his own, into a little Chamber (which -he had order’d to be made ready for that purpose) shut her into it; I -follow’d to the Door, and seconded my Lady in her Desires, that I might -be permitted to attend her there; but all in vain, he told me, he doubted -not but that I had been her Confident in this Affair, and ordered me -to quit his House in a few Days. As soon as he was gone out, I went -into the Garden, and saunter’d up and down a good while, hoping to get -an Opportunity of speaking to my Lady through the Window, for I knew -there was one that look’d into it; but not seeing her, I bethought me of -getting a little Stick, with which I knock’d gently against the Glass, -and engag’d her to open it. As soon as she perceiv’d me, a Beam of Joy -brighten’d in her Eyes, and glisten’d tho’ her Tears. Dear ANARET, said -she, how kindly do I take this proof of thy Affection, ’tis only in thy -Power to alleviate my Misfortunes, and thou I know art come to offer thy -Assistance. Then after I had assur’d her of my willingness to serve her -in any command, she desir’d me to wait on you with an Account of all that -had happen’d, and to give you her Vows of an eternal Love. My Eyes, said -she weeping, perhaps may ne’er behold him more, but Imagination shall -supply that want, and from my Heart he never shall be Absent. Oh! do not -talk thus, cry’d the Count, extreamly touch’d at this Discourse. I must, -I will see her, nothing shall hold her from me. You may, answer’d ANARET, -but then it must be with the Approbation of Monsieur SANSEVERIN, he will -be proud to receive you in Quality of a Suitor to his Daughter, and ’tis -only to oblige you to a publick Declaration that he takes these Measures. -D’ELMONT was not perfectly pleas’d with these Words: he was too quick -sighted not to perceive immediately what Monsieur SANSEVERIN drove at, -but as well as he lik’d AMENA, found no inclination in himself to Marry -her; and therefore was not desirous of an Explanation of what he resolv’d -not to seem to understand. He walk’d two or three turns about the Room, -endeavouring to conceal his Disgust, and when he had so well overcome -the shock, as to banish all visible Tokens of it, I would willingly said -he coldly, come in to any proper Method for the obtaining the Person of -AMENA, as well as her Heart; but there are certain Reasons for which I -cannot make a Discovery of my Designs to her Father, ’till I have first -spoken with her. My Lord, reply’d the subtle ANARET (easily guessing at -his Meaning) I wish to Heaven there were a possibility of your Meeting; -there is nothing I would not risque to forward it, and if your Lordship -can think of any way in which I may be serviceable to you, in this short -Time I am allow’d to stay in the Family, I beg you would command me. She -spoke this with an Air which made the Count believe she really had it in -her Power to serve him in this Occasion, and presently hit on the surest -Means to bind her to his Interest. You are very obliging, said he, and -I doubt not but your Ingenuity is equal to your good Nature, therefore -will leave the Contrivance of my happiness entirely to you, and that you -may not think your Care bestow’d on an ungrateful Person, be pleas’d -(continu’d he, giving her a Purse of _Lewis-Dor_’s) to accept this small -Earnest of my future Friendship. ANARET, like most of her Function, was -too mercinary to resist such a Temptation, tho’ it had been given her to -betray the Honour of her whole Sex; and after a little pause, reply’d, -Your Lordship is too generous to be refus’d, tho’ in a Matter of the -greatest Difficulty, as indeed this is; for in the strict Confinement -my Lady is, I know no way but one, and that extreamly hazardous to her; -however, I do not fear but my Perswasions, joyn’d with her own Desires, -will influence her to attempt it. Your Lordship knows we have a little -Door at the farther End of the Garden, that opens into the _Tuillerys_. I -do, cry’d D’ELMONT interrupting her. I have several times parted from my -Charmer there, when my Entreaties have prevail’d with her to stay longer -with me than she wou’d have the Family to take notice of. I hope to order -the Matter so, resum’d ANARET, that it shall be the Scene this Night of a -most happy Meeting. My Lady unknown to her Father, has the Key of it, she -can throw it to me from her Window, and I can open it to you, who must be -walking near it, about Twelve or One a Clock, for by that time every body -will be in Bed. But what will that avail, cry’d D’ELMONT hastily; since -she lies in her Father’s Chamber, where ’tis impossible to pass Without -alarming him. You Lovers are so impatient rejoyn’d ANARET smiling, I -never design’d you should have Entrance there, tho’ the Window is so low, -that a Person of your Lordship’s Stature and Agility might mount it with -a Galliard step, but I suppose it will turn to as good an Account, if -your Mistress by my Assistance stets out of it. But can she, interrupted -he; will she, dost thou think? Fear not, my Lord, reply’d she, be but -punctual to the Hour, AMENA, shall be yours, if Love, Wit and Opportunity -have power to make her so. D’ELMONT was transported with this Promise, -and the Thoughts of what he expected to possess by her Means, rais’d -his Imagination to so high a pitch, as he cou’d not forbear kissing and -embracing her with such Raptures, as might not have been very pleasing -to AMENA, had she been witness of ’em. But ANARET who had other things in -her Head than Gallantry, disengag’d her self from him as soon she cou’d, -taking more Satisfaction in forwarding an Affair in which she propos’d so -much Advantage, than in the Caresses of the most accomplish’d Gentleman -in the World. - -When she came Home, she found every thing as she cou’d wish, MONSIEUR -Abroad, and his Daughter at the Window, impatiently watching her -return, she told her as much of the Discourse she had with the COUNT -as she thought proper, extolling his Love and Constancy, and carefully -concealing all she thought might give an umbrage to her Vertue. But -in spight of all the Artifice she made use of, she found it no easie -Matter to perswade her to get out of the Window; the fears she had of -being discover’d, and more expos’d to her Father’s Indignation, and the -Censure of the World, damp’d her Inclinations, and made her deaf to the -eager Solicitations of this unfaithful Woman. As they were Disputing, -some of the Servants happ’ning to come into the Garden, oblig’d ’em to -break off; and ANARET retir’d, not totally dispairing of compassing her -Designs, when the appointed Hour should arrive, and AMENA should know the -darling Object of her Wishes was so near. Nor did her Hopes deceive her, -the Resolutions of a Lover, when made against the Interest of the Person -belov’d, are but of a short duration; and this unhappy Fair was no sooner -left alone, and had leisure to Contemplate on the Graces of the Charming -D’ELMONT, but Love plaid his part with such Success, as made her repent -she had chid ANARET for her Proposal, and wish’d for nothing more than an -Opportunity to tell her so. She pass’d several Hours in Disquietudes she -had never known before, till at last she heard her Father come into the -next Room to go to Bed, and soon after some Body knock’d softly at the -Window, she immediately open’d it, and perceiv’d by the Light of the Moon -which then shone very bright, that it was ANARET, she had not Patience -to listen to the long Speech the other had prepar’d to perswade her, -but putting her Head as far as she could, to prevent being heard by her -Father. Well ANARET, said she, where is this Adventrous Lover, what is it -he requires of me? Oh! Madam, reply’d she, overjoy’d at the compliable -Humour she found her in, he is now at the Garden Door, there’s nothing -wanting but your Key to give him Entrance; what farther he requests, -himself shall tell you. Oh Heavens! cry’d AMENA, searching her Pockets, -and finding she had it not; I am undone, I have left it in my Cabinet in -the Chamber where I us’d to lie. These Words made ANARET at her Wits end, -she knew there was no possibility of fetching it, there being so many -Rooms to go thro’, she ran to the Door, and endeavour’d to push back the -Lock, but had not Strength; she then knew not what to do, she was sure -D’ELMONT was on the other side, and fear’d he would resent this usage -to the disappointment of all her mercenary Hopes, and durst not call to -acquaint him with his Misfortune for fear of being heard. As for AMENA, -she was now more sensible than ever of the violence of her Inclinations, -by the extream vexation this Disappointment gave her: Never did People -pass a Night in greater uneasiness, than these three; the _Count_ who was -naturally impatient, could not bear a balk of this nature without the -utmost chagrin. AMENA languish’d, and ANARET fretted to Death, tho’ she -resolv’d to leave no Stone unturn’d to set all right again. Early in the -Morning she went to his Lodgings, and found him in a very ill Humour, -but she easily pacify’d him, by representing with a great deal of real -Grief, the Accident that retarded his Happiness, and assuring him there -was nothing cou’d hinder the fulfilling it the next Night. When she had -gain’d this Point, she came Home and got the Key into her possession, -but could not find an opportunity all Day of speaking to her Lady, -Monsieur SANSEVERIN did not stir out of Doors, and spent most of it with -his Daughter; in his Discourse to her, he set the Passion the COUNT had -for her in so true a light, that it made a very great alteration in her -Sentiments; and she began to reflect on the Condescensions she had given -a Man, who had never so much as mention’d Marriage to her, with so much -shame, as almost overwhelm’d her Love, and she was now determin’d never -to see him, till he should declare himself to her Father in such a manner -as would be for her Honour. - -In the mean time ANARET waited with a great deal of Impatience for the -Family going to Bed; and as soon as all was hush, ran to give the COUNT -Admittance; and leaving him in an ALLEY on the farther side of the -Garden, made the accustom’d Sign at the Window. AMENA presently open’d -it, but instead of staying to hear what she would say, threw a Letter -out, Carry that, said she, to COUNT D’ELMONT, let him know the Contents -of it are wholly the result of my own Reason. And as for your part, I -charge you trouble me no farther on this Subject; then shutting the -Casement hastily, left ANARET in a strange Consternation at this suddain -Change of her Humour; however she made no delay, but running to the Place -where the COUNT waited her return, deliver’d him the Letter, but advis’d -him (who was ready enough of himself) not to obey any Commands might be -given him to the hindrance of his Designs. The Moon was then at the full, -and gave so clear a Light, that he easily found it contain’d these Words. - - [Illustration] - - _To Count_ D’ELMONT. - - _Too many Proofs have I given you of my weakness not to make - you think me incapable of forming or keeping any Resolution - to the Prejudice of that Passion you have inspir’d me with: - But know, thou undoer of my Quiet, tho’ I have Lov’d and - still do Love you with a Tenderness, which I fear will be - Unvanquishable; yet I will rather suffer my Life, than my - Virtue to become its Prey. Press me then no more I conjure you, - to such dangerous Interviews, in which I dare neither Trust - my Self, nor You, if you believe me worthy your real Regard, - the way thro’ Honour is open to receive You; Religion, Reason, - Modesty, and Obedience forbid the rest._ - - Farewel. - - -D’ELMONT knew the Power he had over her too well, to be much discourag’d -at what he read, and after a little consultation with ANARET, they -concluded he should go to speak to her, as being the best Sollicitor -in his own Cause. As he came down the Walk, AMENA saw him thro’ the -Glass, and the sight of that beloved Object, bringing a thousand past -Endearments to her Memory, made her incapable of retiring from the -Window, and she remain’d in a languishing and immoveable Posture, leaning -her Head against the Shutter, ’till he drew near enough to discern she -saw him. He took this for no ill Omen, and instead of falling on his -Knees at an humble Distance, as some Romantick Lovers would have done, -redoubled his Pace, and Love and Fortune which on this Occasion were -resolv’d to befriend him, presented to his View a large Rolling-Stone -which the Gardiner had accidentally left there; the Iron-work that held -it was very high, and strong enough to bear a much greater weight than -his, so he made no more to do, but getting on the top of it, was almost -to the Waste above the bottom of the Casement. This was a strange Trial, -for had she been less in Love, good Manners would have oblig’d her to -open it; however she retain’d so much of her former Resolution, as to -conjure him to be gone, and not expose her to such Hazards; that if her -Father should come to know she held any clandestine Correspondence with -him, after the Commands he had given her, she were utterly undone, and -that he never must expect any Condescensions from her, without being -first allow’d by him. D’ELMONT, tho’ he was a little startled to find her -so much more Mistress of her Temper than he believ’d she could be, yet -resolv’d to make all possible use of this Opportunity, which probably -might be the last he shou’d ever have, look’d on her as she spoke, -with Eyes so piercing, so sparkling with Desire, accompany’d with so -bewitching softness, as might have thaw’d the most frozen reservedness, -and on the melting Soul stamp’d Love’s Impression. ’Tis certain they were -too irresistable to be long withstood, and putting an end to AMENA’S -grave Remonstrances, gave him leave to reply to ’em in this manner. Why -my Life, my Angel, said he, my everlasting Treasure of my Soul, shou’d -these Objections now be rais’d? How can you say you have given me your -Heart? Nay, own you think me worthy that inestimable Jewel, yet dare -not trust your Person with me a few Hours: What have you to fear from -your adoring Slave? I want but to convince you how much I am so, by a -thousand yet uninvented Vows. They may be spar’d, cry’d AMENA, hastily -interrupting him, one Declaration to my Father, is all the Proof that he -or I demands of your Sincerity. Oh! Thou Inhuman and Tyrannick Charmer, -answer’d he, (seizing her Hand, and eagerly kissing it) I doubt not -but your faithful ANARET has told you, that I could not without the -highest Imprudence, presently discover the Passion I have for you to the -World. I have, my Lord, said that cunning Wench who stood near him, and -that ’twas only to acquaint her with the Reasons why, for some Time, -you would have it a Secret, that you much desir’d to speak with her. -Besides (rejoyn’d the COUNT) consider my Angel how much more hazardous -it is for you to hold Discourse with me here, than at a farther distance -from your Father; your denying to go with me is the only way to make -your Fears prove true; his jealousie of you may possibly make him more -watchful than ordinary, and we are not sure but that this Minute he may -tear you from my Arms; whereas if you suffer me to bear you hence, if -he should happen to come even to your Door, and hear no noise, he will -believe you sleeping, and return to his Bed well satisfy’d. With these -and the like Arguments she was at last overcome, and with the assistance -of ANARET, he easily lifted her down. But this rash Action, so contrary -to the Resolution she thought herself a few moments before so fix’d in, -made such a confusion in her Mind, as render’d her insensible for some -Time of all he said to her. They made what haste they could into the -_Tuilleries_, and D’ELMONT having plac’d her on one of the most pleasant -Seats, was resolv’d to loose no time; and having given her some Reasons -for his not addressing to her Father, which tho’ weak in themselves, were -easily believ’d by a Heart so willing to be deceiv’d as hers, he began -to press for a greater confirmation of her Affection than Words; and -’twas now this inconsiderate Lady found herself in the greatest Strait -she had ever yet been in; all Nature seem’d to favour his Design, the -pleasantness of the Place, the silence of the Night, the sweetness of the -Air, perfum’d with a thousand various Odours, wafted by gentle Breezes -from adjacent Gardens, compleated the most delightful Scene that ever -was, to offer up a Sacrifice to Love; not a breath but flew wing’d with -desire, and sent soft thrilling Wishes to the Soul; CYNTHIA herself, cold -as she is reported, assisted in the Inspiration, and sometimes shone with -all her brightness, as it were to feast their ravish’d Eyes with gazing -on each others Beauty; then veil’d her Beams in Clouds, to give the -Lover boldness, and hide the Virgins blushes. What now could poor AMENA -do, surrounded with so many Powers, attack’d by such a charming Force -without, betray’d by tenderness within: Virtue and Pride, the Guardians -of her Honour, fled from her Breast, and left her to her Foe, only a -modest Bashfulness remain’d, which for a time made some Defence, but with -such weakness as a Lover less impatient than D’ELMONT, would have little -regarded. The heat of the Weather, and her Confinement having hindred her -from dressing that Day; she had only a thin silk Night Gown on, which -flying open as he caught her in his Arms, he found her panting-Heart -beat measures of Consent, her heaving Breast swell to be press’d by his, -and every Pulse confess a wish to yeild; her Spirits all dissolv’d, sunk -in a Lethargy of Love; her snowy Arms, unknowing, grasp’d his Neck, her -Lips met his half way, and trembled at the touch; in fine, there was -but a Moment betwixt her and Ruin; when the tread of some Body coming -hastily down the Walk, oblig’d the half-bless’d Pair to put a stop to -farther Endearments. It was ANARET, who having been left Centinel in -the Garden, in order to open the Door when her Lady should return, had -seen Lights in every Room in the House, and heard great Confusion, so -ran immediately to give ’em notice of this Misfortune. These dreadful -Tidings soon rous’d AMENA from her Dream of Happiness, she accus’d the -influence of her Amorous Stars, upbraided ANARET, and blam’d the Count -in Terms little differing from distraction, and ’twas as much as both of -’em could do to perswade her to be calm. However, ’twas concluded that -ANARET should go back to the House, and return to ’em again, as soon as -she had learn’d what accident had occasion’d this Disturbance. The Lovers -had now a second Opportunity, if either of ’em had been inclin’d to make -use of it, but their Sentiments were entirely chang’d with this Alarm; -AMENA’s Thoughts were wholly taken up with her approaching Shame, and -vow’d she wou’d rather die than ever come in to her Father’s Presence, if -it were true that she was miss’d; the Count, who wanted not good Nature, -seriously reflecting on the Misfortunes he was likely to bring on a young -Lady, who tenderly lov’d him, gave him a great deal of real Remorse, -and the Consideration that he should be necessitated, either to own an -injurious Design, or come into Measures for the clearing of it, which -would in no way agree with his Ambition, made him extreamly pensive, and -wish AMENA again in her Chamber, more earnestly than ever he had done, to -get her out of it; they both remain’d in a profound Silence, impatiently -waiting the approach of ANARET; but she not coming as they expected, and -the Night wearing away apace, very much encreas’d the Trouble they were -in; at length the Count, after revolving a thousand Inventions in his -Mind, advis’d to walk toward the Garden, and see whether the Door was yet -open. ’Tis better for you, Madam, said he, whatsoever has happen’d, to -be found in your own Garden, than in any Place with me. AMENA comply’d, -and suffer’d herself to be led thither, trembling, and ready to sink -with Fear and Grief at every Step; but when they found all fast, and -that there was no hopes of getting Entrance, she fell quite senseless, -and without any signs of Life, at her Lover’s Feet; he was strangely at -a loss what to do with her, and made a thousand Vows if he got clear of -this Adventure, never to embark in another of this Nature; he was little -skill’d in proper Means to recover her, and ’twas more to her Youth and -the goodness of her Constitution that she ow’d the Return of her Senses, -than his awkard Endeavours; when she reviv’d, the piteous Lamentations -she made, and the perplexity he was in how to dispose of her, was very -near reducing him to as bad a Condition as she had been in; he never till -now having had occasion for a Confident, render’d him so unhappy as not -to know any one Person at whose House he cou’d, with any Convenience, -trust her, and to carry her to that where he had Lodgings, was the way to -be made the talk of all _Paris_. He ask’d her several times if she would -not command him to wait on her to some Place where she might remain free -from Censure, till she heard from her Father, but cou’d get no Answer but -upbraidings from her. So making a Virtue of Necessity, he was oblig’d to -take her in his Arms, with a design to bring her (tho’ much against his -Inclinations) to his own Apartment: As he was going thro’ a very fair -Street which led to that in which he liv’d, AMENA cry’d out with a sort -of Joy, loose me, my Lord, I see a Light in yonder House, the Lady of -it is my dearest Friend, she has power with my Father, and if I beg her -Protection, I doubt not but she will afford it me, and perhaps find some -way to mitigate my Misfortunes; the _Count_ was overjoy’d to be eas’d -of his fair Burthen, and setting her down at the Gate, was preparing -to take his leave with an indifference, which was but too visible to -the afflicted Lady. I see, my Lord, said she, the pleasure you take in -getting rid of me, exceeds the trouble for the Ruin you have brought upon -me; but go, I hope I shall resent this Usage as I ought, and that I may -be the better enabled to do so, I desire you to return the Letter I writ -this fatal Night, the Resolution it contain’d will serve to remind me of -my shameful Breach of it. - -Madam (answer’d he coldly, but with great Complaisance) you have said -enough to make a Lover less obedient, refuse; but because I am sensible -of the Accidents that happen to Letters, and to shew that I can never -be repugnant even to the most rigorous of your Commands, I shall make -no scruple in fulfilling this, and trust to your Goodness for the -re-settling me in your Esteem, when next you make me so happy as to see -you. The formality of this Compliment touch’d her to the Quick, and the -thought of what she was like to suffer on his account, fill’d her with -so just an Anger, that as soon as she got the Letter, she knock’d hastily -at the Gate, which being immediately open’d, broke off any further -Discourse, she went in, and he departed to his Lodging, ruminating on -every Circumstance of this Affair, and consulting with himself how he -shou’d proceed. ALOVISA (for it was her House which AMENA by a whimsical -effect of Chance had made choice of for her Sanctuary) was no sooner told -her Rival was come to speak with her, but she fell into all the Raptures -that successful Malice could inspire, she was already inform’d of part of -this Night’s Adventure; for the cunning CHARLO who by her Orders had been -a diligent Spy on Count D’ELMONT’S Actions, and as constant an Attendant -on him as his shadow, had watch’d him to Monsieur SANSEVERIN’S Garden, -seen him enter, and afterwards come with AMENA into the _Tuilleries_; -where perceiving ’em Seated, ran Home, and brought his Lady an Account; -Rage, Jealousie and Envy working their usual Effects in her; at this -News, made her promise the Fellow infinite Rewards if he would invent -some Stratagem to separate ’em, which he undertaking to do, occasion’d -her being up so late, impatiently waiting his return; she went down to -receive her with great Civility, mix’d with a feign’d surprize to see -her at such an Hour, and in such a Dishabilee; which the other answering -ingeniously, and freely letting her into the whole Secret, not only of -her Amour, but the coldness she observ’d in D’ELMONT’S Behaviour at -parting, fill’d this cruel Woman with so exquisite a Joy, as she was -hardly capable of dissembling; therefore to get liberty to indulge it, -and to learn the rest of the particulars of CHARLO, who she heard was -come in, she told AMENA she would have her go to Bed, and endeavour to -compose her self, and that she would send for Monsieur SANSEVERIN in -the Morning, and endeavour to reconcile him to her. I will also added -she, with a deceitful smile, see the Count D’ELMONT, and talk to him -in a manner as shall make him truly sensible of his Happiness; nay, -so far my Friendship shall extend, that if there be any real Cause for -making your Amour a Secret, he shall see you at my House, and pass for -a Visitor of mine; I have no body to whom I need be accountable for -my Actions and am above the Censures of the World. AMENA, thank’d her -in Terms full of gratitude, and went with the Maid, whom ALOVISA had -order’d to conduct her to a Chamber prepar’d for her; as soon as she -had got rid of her, she call’d for CHARLO, impatient to hear by what -contrivance this lucky Chance had befallen her. Madam, said, he, tho’ I -form’d a thousand Inventions, I found not any so plausible, as to alarm -Monsieur SANSEVERIN’S Family, with an out-cry of Fire. Therefore I rang -the Bell at the fore-gate of the House, and bellow’d in the most terrible -accent I could possible turn my Voice to, Fire, Fire, rise, or you will -all be burnt in your Beds. I had not repeated this many times, before -I found the Effect I wish’d; the Noises I heard, and the Lights I saw -in the Rooms, assur’d me there were no Sleepers left; then I ran to the -_Tuilleries_, designing to observe the Lover’s proceedings, but I found -they were appriz’d of the Danger they were in, of being discover’d, and -were coming to endeavour an entrance into the Garden. I know the rest, -interrupted ALOVISA, the Event has answer’d even beyond my Wishes, and -thy Reward for this good Service shall be greater than thy Expectations. -As she said these Words she retir’d to her Chamber, more satisfy’d than -she had been for many Months. Quite different did poor AMENA pass the -Night, for besides the grief of having disoblig’d her Father, banish’d -her self his House, and expos’d her Reputation to the unavoidable -Censures of the unpitying World; for an ungrateful, or at best an -indifferent Lover. She receiv’d a vast addition of Afflictions, when -taking out the Letter which D’ELMONT had given her at parting, possible -to weep over it; and accuse her self for so inconsiderately breaking -the noble Resolution she had form’d, when it was writ. She found it was -ALOVISA’S Hand, for the _Count_ by mistake had given her the second he -receiv’d from that Lady, instead of that she desir’d him to return. Never -was Surprize, Confusion, and Dispair at such a height, as in AMENA’S Soul -at this Discovery; she was now assur’d by what she read, that she had -fled for Protection to the very Person she ought most to have avoided; -that she had made a Confident of her greatest Enemy, a Rival dangerous -to her Hopes in every Circumstance. She consider’d the High Birth and -vast Possessions that ALOVISA was Mistress of in opposition to her -Father’s scanted Power of making her a Fortune. Her Wit and Subtilty -against her Innocence and Simplicity: her Pride, and the respect her -grandeur commanded from the World, against her own deplor’d and wretch’d -State, and look’d upon her self as wholly lost. The violence of her -Sorrow is more easily imagin’d than express’d; but of all her melancholy -Reflections, none rack’d her equal to the belief she had that D’ELMONT -was not unsensible by this time whom the Letter came from, and had only -made a Court to her to amuse himself a while, and then suffer her to fall -a Sacrifice to his Ambition, and feed the Vanity of her Rival; a just -Indignation now open’d the Eyes of her Understanding, and considering -all the Passages of the _Count_’s Behaviour, she saw a thousand Things -which told her, his Designs on her were far unworthy of the Name of -Love. None that were ever touch’d with the least of those Passions which -agitated the Soul of AMENA, can believe they would permit Sleep to enter -her Eyes: But if Grief and Distraction kept her from repose; ALOVISA -had too much Business on her Hands to enjoy much more; She had promis’d -AMENA to send for her Father, and the _Count_, and found there were not -too many Moments before Morning, to contrive so many different forms of -Behaviour, as should deceive ’em all three, compleat the Ruin of her -Rival, and engage the Addresses of her Lover; as soon as she thought it -a proper Hour, she dispatch’d a Messenger to Count D’ELMONT, and another -to Monsieur SANSEVERIN, who full of Sorrow as he was, immediately obey’d -her Summons. She receiv’d him in her Dressing-room, and with a great deal -of feign’d Trouble in her Countenance, accosted him in this manner. How -hard is it, said she, to dissemble Grief, and in spite of all the Care, -which I doubt not you have taken to conceal it, in consideration of your -own, and Daughter’s Honour, I too plainly perceive it in your Face to -imagine that my own is hid: How, Madam, cry’d the impatient Father, (then -giving a loose to his Tears) are you acquainted then with my Misfortune? -Alas, answer’d she, I fear by the Consequences you have been the last to -whom it has been reveal’d. I hop’d that my Advice, and the daily Proofs -the _Count_ gave your Daughter of the little regard he had for her, might -have fir’d her to a generous Disdain, and have a thousand Pardons to ask -of you for Breach of Friendship, in concealing an Affair so requisite -you should have known: Oh! Madam resum’d he, interrupting her, I conjure -you make no Apologies for what is past, I know too well the greatness -of your goodness, and the favour you have always been pleas’d to Honour -her with; not to be assur’d she was happy in your Esteem, and only beg -I may no longer be kept in Ignorance of the fatal Secret. You shall be -inform’d of all, said she, but then you must promise me to Act by my -Advice; which he having promis’d, she told him after what manner AMENA -came to her House, the coldness the _Count_ express’d to her, and the -violence of her Passion for him. Now, said she, if you should suffer -your rage to break out in any publick Manner against the _Count_, it -will only serve to make your Daughter’s Dishonour the Table-Talk of -all _Paris_. He is too great at Court, and has too many Friends to be -compell’d to any Terms for your Satisfaction; besides, the least noise -might make him discover by what means he first became acquainted with -her, and her excessive, I will not say troublesome fondness of him, -since; which should he do, the shame wou’d be wholly her’s, for few wou’d -condemn him for accepting the offer’d Caresses of a Lady so young and -beautiful as AMENA. But is it possible, cry’d he (quite confounded at -these Words) that she should stoop so low to offer Love. Oh Heavens! Is -this the Effect of all my Prayers, my Care, and my Indulgence. Doubt not, -resum’d ALOVISA, of the Truth of what I say, I have it from herself, and -to convince you it is so, I shall inform you of something I had forgot -before. Then she told him of the Note she had slip’d into the Letter he -had forc’d her to write, and of sending ANARET to his Lodgings, which -she heighten’d with all the aggravating Circumstances her Wit and Malice -cou’d suggest; till the old Man believing all she said as an Oracle, was -almost senseless between Grief and Anger; but the latter growing rather -the most predominant, he vow’d to punish her in such a manner as should -deter all Children from Disobedience. Now, said ALOVISA, it is, that I -expect the performance of your Promise; these threats avail but little to -the retrieving your Daughter’s Reputation, or your quiet; be therefore -perswaded to make no Words of it, compose your Countenance as much as -possible to serenity, and think if you have no Friend in any Monastry -where you could send her till this Discourse, and her own foolish Folly -be blown over. If you have not, I can recommend you to one at _St._ -DENNIS where the Abbess is my near Relation, and on my Letter will use -her with all imaginable Tenderness. Monsieur was extreamly pleas’d at -this Proposal, and gave her those thanks the seeming kindness of her -offer deserv’d. I would not, resum’d she, have you take her Home, or -see her before she goes; or if you do, not till all things are ready -for her Departure, for I know she will be prodigal of her _Promises_ -of Amendment, ’till she has prevail’d with your Fatherly Indulgence -to permit her stay at _Paris_, and know as well she will not have the -Power to _keep_ ’em in the same Town with the _Count_. She shall, if -you please, remain conceal’d in my House, ’till you have provided for -her Journey, and it will be a great Means to put a stop to any farther -Reflections the malicious may make on her; if you give out she is -already gone to some Relations in the Country. As she was speaking, -CHARLO came to acquaint her, one was come to visit her. She made no doubt -but ’twas D’ELMONT, therefore hasten’d away Monsieur SANSEVERIN, after -having fix’d him in a Resolution to do every thing as she advis’d. It was -indeed Count D’ELMONT that was come, which as soon as she was assur’d of, -she threw off her dejected and mournful Air, and assum’d one all Gaiety -and good Humour, dimpl’d her Mouth with Smiles, and call’d the laughing -Cupids to her Eyes. - -My Lord, said she, you do well by this early visit to retrieve your Sexes -drooping fame of Constancy, and prove the nicety of AMENA’S discernment, -in conferring favours on a Person, who to his excellent Qualifications, -has that of assiduity to deserve them; as he was about to reply, the -rush of somebody coming hastily down the Stairs which faced the Room -they were in, oblig’d ’em to turn that way. It was the unfortunate -AMENA, who not being able to endure the Thoughts of staying in her -Rivals House, distracted with her Griefs, and not regarding what should -become of her, as soon as she heard the Doors were open, was preparing -to fly from that detested Place. ALOVISA was vex’d to the Heart at the -sight of her, hoping to have had some Discourse with the _Count_ before -they met; but she dissembled it, and catching hold of her as she was -endeavouring to pass, ask’d where she was going, and what occasion’d the -Disorder she observ’d in her. I go, (answer’d AMENA) from a false Lover, -and a falser Friend, but why shou’d I upbraid you (continu’d she looking -wildly sometimes on the _Count_, and sometimes on ALOVISA) Treacherous -Pair, you know too well each others Baseness, and my Wrongs; no longer -then, detain a Wretch whose Presence, had you the least Sense of -Honour, Gratitude, or even common Humanity, wou’d fill your Consciences -with Remorse and Shame; and who has now no other wish, than that of -shunning you for ever. As she spoke this, she struggled to get loose -from ALOVISA’S Arms, who, in spite of the Amazement she was in, still -held her. D’ELMONT was no less confounded, and intirely ignorant of the -Meaning of what he heard, was at a loss how to reply, ’till she resum’d -her reproaches in this manner: Why, ye Monsters of barbarity, said she, -do you delight in beholding the Ruins you have made? Is not the knowledge -of my Miseries, my everlasting Miseries, sufficient to content you? And -must I be debarr’d that only Remedy for Woes like mine? Death! Oh cruel -Return for all my Love, my Friendship! and the confidence I repos’d in -you. Oh! to what am I reduc’d by my too soft and easie Nature, hard fate -of tenderness, which healing others, only wounds it’s self.-----Just -Heavens!------here she stopp’d, the violence of her Resentment, -endeavouring to vent it self in sighs, rose in her Breast with such an -impetuosity as choak’d the Passage of her Words, and she fell in a Swoon. -Tho’ the _Count_, and ALOVISA were both in the greatest Consternation -imaginable, yet neither of ’em were negligent in trying to Recover her; -as they were busi’d about her, that fatal Letter which had been the Cause -of this Disturbance, fell out of her Bosom, and both being eager to take -it up (believing it might make some discovery) had their Hands on it at -the same time; it was but slightly folded, and immediately shew’d ’em -from what source AMENA’S despair proceeded: Her upbraidings of ALOVISA, -and the Blushes and Confusion which he observed in that Ladies Face, as -soon as ever she saw it open’d, put an end to the Mistery, and one less -quick of Apprehension than D’ELMONT, wou’d have made no difficulty in -finding his unknown Admirer in the Person of ALOVISA: She, to conceal -the Disorder she was in at this Adventure as much as possible, call’d -her Women, and order’d ’em to Convey AMENA into another Chamber where -there was more Air; as she was preparing to follow, turning a little -towards the _Count_. but still extreamly confus’d, you’ll Pardon, me, my -Lord, said she, if my concern for my Friend obliges me to leave you. Ah -Madam, reply’d he, forbear to make any Apologies to me, rather Summon -all your goodness to forgive a Wretch so blind to happiness as I have -been: She either cou’d not, or wou’d not make any answer to these Words, -but seeming as tho’ she heard ’em not, went hastily into the Room where -AMENA was, leaving the _Count_ full of various and confus’d Reflections; -the sweetness of his Disposition made him regret his being the Author -of AMENA’S Misfortunes, but how miserable is that Woman’s Condition, -who by her Mismanagement is reduc’d to so poor a Comfort as the pity of -her Lover; that Sex is generally too Gay to continue long uneasy, and -there was little likelihood he cou’d be capable of lamenting Ills, which -his small Acquaintance with the Passion from which they sprung, made -him not comprehend. The pleasure the Discovery gave him of a Secret he -had so long desir’d to find out, kept him from being too much concern’d -at the Adventure that occasion’d it; but he could not forbear accusing -himself of intollerable Stupidity, when he consider’d the Passages of -ALOVISA’S Behaviour, her swooning at the Ball, her constant Glances, her -frequent Blushes when he talk’d to her, and all his Cogitations whether -on ALOVISA, or AMENA, were mingled with a wonder that Love should have -such Power. The diversity of his Thoughts wou’d have entertain’d him much -longer, if they had not been interrupted by his Page, who came in a great -hurry, to acquaint him, that his Brother, the young Chevalier BRILLIAN -was just come to Town, and waited with Impatience for his coming Home: -As much a Stranger as D’ELMONT was to the Affairs of Love, he was none -to those of Friendship, and making no doubt but that the former ought -to yield to the latter in every respect; contented himself with telling -one of ALOVISA’S Servants, as he went out, that he wou’d wait on her -in the Evening, and made what hast he cou’d to give his beloved Brother -the welcome he expected after so long an absence; and indeed the manner -of their Meeting, express’d a most intire and sincere Affection on both -sides. The _Chevalier_ was but a Year younger than the _Count_, they had -been bred together from their Infancy, and there was such a sympathy in -their Souls, and so great a Resemblance in their Persons, as very much -contributed to endear ’em to each other with a Tenderness far beyond that -which is ordinarily found among Relations. After the first Testimonies of -it were over, D’ELMONT began to Question him how he had pass’d his Time -since their Separation, and to give him some little Reproaches for not -writing so often as he might have Expected. Alas! my dearest Brother, -reply’d the _Chevalier_, such various Adventures have hap’ned to me -since we parted, as when I relate ’em, will I hope excuse my seeming -Negligence; these Words were accompany’d with Sighs, and a Melancholly -Air immediately overspreading his Face, and taking away great part of the -Vivacity, which lately sparkled in his Eyes, rais’d an impatient Desire -in the _Count_ to know the Reason of it, which when he had express’d, the -other (after having engag’d him, that whatever Causes he might find to -ridicule his Folly, he wou’d suspend all appearance of it till the end of -his Narration) began to satisfy in this Manner. - -[Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - THE STORY OF THE Chevalier BRILLIAN. - - At St. _Omers_, where you left me, I happen’d to make an - Acquaintance with one Monsieur BELPINE, a Gentleman who was - there on some Business; we being both pretty much Strangers - in the Place, occasion’d an Intimacy between us, which the - disparity of our Tempers, wou’d have prevented our Commencing - at _Paris_; but you know I was never a lover of Solitude, and - for want of Company more agreeable, was willing to encourage - his. He was indeed so obliging as to stay longer at St. _Omers_ - then his Affairs required, purposely to engage me to make - _Amiens_ in my way to _Paris_. He was very Vain, and fancying - himself happy in the esteem of the fair Sex, was desirous I - should be witness of the Favours they bestow’d on him. Among - the Number of those he used to talk of, was Madamoiselle - ANSELLINA de la TOUR, a _Parisian_ Lady, and Heiress of a - great Estate, but had been some time at _Amiens_ with Madam - the Baroness _de_ BERONVILLE her God-Mother. The Wonders he - told me of this young Lady’s Wit, and Beauty, inclin’d me to a - desire of seeing her; and as soon as I was in a Condition to - Travel, we took our Way towards _Amiens_, he us’d me with all - the Friendship he was capable of expressing; and soon after we - arriv’d, carry’d me to the _Baronesses_: But oh Heavens! How - great was my Astonishment when I found ANSELLINA as far beyond - his faint Description, as the Sun Beams the Imitation of Art; - besides the regularity of her Features, the delicacy of her - Complexion, and the just Simmetry of her whole Composition, she - has an undescribable Sweetness that plays about her Eyes and - Mouth, and softens all her Air: But all her Charms, dazling - as they are, would have lost their captivating Force on me, - if I had believ’d her capable of that weakness for BELPINE, - that his Vanity would have me think. She is very Young and - Gay, and I easily perceiv’d she suffer’d his Addresses more - out of Diversion then any real Regard she had for him; he held - a constant Correspondence at _Paris_, and was continually - furnish’d with every thing that was _Novel_, and by that means - introduc’d himself into many Companies, who else wou’d not - have endured him; but when at any time I was so happy as to - entertain the lovely ANSELLINA alone, and we had Opportunity - for serious Discourse, (which was impossible in his Company) - I found that she was Mistress of a Wit, Poynant enough to be - Satyrical, yet it was accompanied with a Discretion as very - much heighten’d her Charms, and compleated the Conquest that - her Eyes begun. I will confess to you, Brother, that I became - so devoted to my Passion, that I had no leisure for any other - Sentiments. Fears, Hopes, Anxities, jealous Pains, uneasie - Pleasures, all the Artillery of Love, were garrison’d in my - Heart, and a thousand various half form’d Resolutions fill’d my - Head. ANSELLINA’s insensibility among a Crow’d of Admirers, and - the disparity of our Fortunes, wou’d have given me just Causes - of Despair, if the Generosity of her Temper had not dissipated - the one, and her Youth, and the hope her Hour was not yet come, - the other. I was often about letting her know the Power she had - over me, but something of an awe which none but those who truly - Love can guess at, still prevented my being able to utter it, - and I believ’d should have languish’d ’till this Moment in an - unavailing silence, if an accident had not hapen’d to embolden - me: I went one Day to visit my Adorable, and being told she - was in the Garden, went thither in hopes to see her, but being - deceiv’d in my Expectation, believ’d the Servant who gave - me that Information was mistaken, and fancying she might be - retir’d to her Closet, as she very often did in an Afternoon, - and the pleasantness of the Place inducing me to stay there - till she was willing to admit me. I sat down at the Foot of - a DIANA, curiously carv’d in Marble, and full of melancholy - Reflections without knowing what I did, took a black lead Pen - out of my Pocket, and writ on the Pedestal these two Lines. - - _Hopeless, and Silent, I must still adore,_ - _Her Heart’s more hard than Stone whom I’d implore._ - - I had scarce finish’d ’em, when I perceiv’d ANSELLINA at a good - distance from me, coming out of a little Arbour; the respect I - had for her, made me fear she should know I was the Author of - ’em, and guess, what I found, I had not gain’d Courage enough - to tell her. I went out of the Alley, as I imagin’d, unseen, - and design’d to come up another, and meet her, before she cou’d - get into the House. But tho’ I walk’d pretty fast, she had left - the Place before I cou’d attain it; and in her stead (casting - my Eyes toward the Statue with an Intention to rub out what I - had writ) I found this Addition to it. - - _You wrong your Love, while you conceal your Pain,_ - _Flints will dissolve with constant drops of Rain._ - - But, my dear Brother, if you are yet insensible of the - wonderful Effects of Love, you will not be able to imagine what - I felt at this View; I was satisfy’d it could be writ by no - Body but ANSELLINA, there being no other Person in the Garden, - and knew as well she could not design that Encouragement for - any other Man, because on many Occasions she had seen my - Hand; and the Day before had written a Song for her, which - she desir’d to learn, with that very Pen I now had made use - of; and going hastily away at the sight of her, had forgot - to take with me. I gaz’d upon the dear obliging Characters, - and kiss’d the Marble which contain’d ’em, a thousand times - before I cou’d find in my Heart to efface ’em; as I was in - this agreeable Amazement, I heard BELPINE’S Voice calling to - me as he came up the walk, which oblig’d me to put an end to - it, and the Object which occasion’d it. He had been told as - well as I, that ANSELLINA was in the Garden, and expressing - some wonder to see me alone, ask’d where she was, I answer’d - him with a great deal of real Truth, that I knew not, and that - I had been there some Time, but had not been so happy as to - Entertain her. He seem’d not to give Credit to what I said, - and began to use me after a Fashion as would have much more - astonish’d me from any other Person. I would not have you, said - he, be concern’d at what I am about to say, because you are - one of those for whom I am willing to preserve a Friendship; - and to convince you of my Sincerity, give you leave to address - after what manner you please to any of the Ladies with whom I - have brought you acquainted, excepting ANSELLINA. But I take - this Opportunity to let you know, I have already made choice - of her, with a design of Marriage, and from this time forward, - shall look on any Visits you shall make to her, as injurious - to my Pretensions. Tho’ I was no Stranger to the Vanity and - Insolence of BELPINE’S Humour, yet not being accustomed to - such arbitrary Kind of Treatment, had certainly resented it - (if we had been in any other Place) in a very different Manner - than I did, but the consideration that to make a Noise there, - would be a Reflection, rather than a Vindication on ANSELLINA’S - Fame; I contented myself with telling him he might be perfectly - easie, that whatever Qualifications the Lady might have that - should encourage his Addresses, I should never give her any - Reason to boast a Conquest over me. These Words might have born - two Interpretations, if the disdainful Air with which I spoke - ’em, and which I could not dissemble, and going immediately - away had not made him take ’em, as they were really design’d, - to affront him; He was full of Indignation and Jealousy (if - it is possible for a Person to be touch’d with that Passion, - who is not capable of the other, which generally occasions - it) but however, having taken it into his Head to imagine I - was better receiv’d by ANSELLINA than he desired; Envy, and - a sort of a Womanish Spleen transported him so far as to go - to ANSELLINA’s Apartment, and rail at me most profusely (as I - have since been told) and threaten how much he’d be reveng’d, - if he heard I ever should have the assurance to Visit there - again. ANSELLINA at first laugh’d at his Folly, but finding - he persisted, and began to assume more Liberty than she ever - meant to afford him; instead of list’ning to his Entreaties, - to forbid me the Privilege I had enjoy’d of her Conversation; - she pass’d that very Sentence on him, and when next I waited of - her, receiv’d me with more Respect than ever; and when at last - I took the boldness to acquaint her with my Passion; I had the - Satisfaction to observe from the frankness of her Disposition, - that I was not indifferent to her; nor indeed did she, even in - Publick, affect any reservedness more than the decencies of - her Sex and Quality requir’d; for after my Pretensions to her - were commonly talk’d of, and those who were intimate with her, - wou’d rally her about me; she pass’d it off with a Spirit of - Gaity and good Humour peculiar to her self, and bated nothing - of her usual freedom to me; she permitted me to Read to her, - to Walk and Dance with her, and I had all the Opportunities - of endeavouring an encrease of her Esteem that I cou’d wish, - which so incens’d BELPINE, that he made no scruple of reviling - both her and me in all Companies wherever he came; saying, I - was a little worthless Fellow, who had nothing but my Sword to - depend upon; and that ANSELLINA having no hopes of Marrying - him, was glad to take up with the first that ask’d her. These - scandalous Reports on my first hearing of ’em had assuredly - been fatal to one of us, if ANSELLINA had not commanded me by - all the Passion I profess’d, and by the Friendship she freely - acknowledged to have for me, not to take any Notice of ’em. - I set too high a Value on the favours she allow’d me, to be - capable of Disobedience; and she was too nice a Judge of the - Punctillio’s of our Sexes Honour, not to take this Sacrifice - of so just a Resentment, as a very great proof how much I - submitted to her will, and suffer’d not a Day to pass without - giving me some new mark how nearly she was touch’d with it. I - was the most contented and happy Person in the World, still - hoping that in a little time, (she having no Relations that - had Power to contradict her Inclinations) I should be able to - obtain every thing from her that an honourable Passion could - require; ’till one Evening coming Home pretty late from her, my - Servant gave me a Letter, which he told me was left for me, by - one of BELPINE’S Servants; I presently suspected the Contents, - and found I was not mistaken; it was really a Challenge to meet - him the next Morning, and must confess, tho’ I long’d for an - Opportunity to Chastise his Insolence, was a little troubled - how to excuse my self to ANSELLINA but there was no possibility - of evading it, without rendering my self unworthy of her, and - hop’d that Circumstance wou’d be sufficient to clear me to - her. I will not trouble you, Brother, with the particulars of - our Duel, since there was nothing material, but that at the - third pass (I know not whether I may call it the effect of my - good or evil Fortune) he receiv’d my Sword a good depth in - his Body, and fell with all the Symptoms of a Dying-Man. I - made all possible hast to send a Surgeon to him. In my way I - met two Gentlemen, who it seems he had made acquainted with - his Design (probably with an intention to be prevented). They - ask’d me what Success, and when I had inform’d ’em, advis’d me - to be gone from _Amiens_ before the News should reach the Ears - of BELPINE’S Relations, who were not inconsiderable in that - Place. I made ’em those Retributions their Civilities deserv’d; - but how eminent soever the Danger appear’d that threatned me, - cou’d not think of leaving _Amiens_, without having first seen - ANSELLINA. I went to the _Baronesses_, and found my Charmer - at her Toylet, and either it was my Fancy, or else she really - did look more amiable in that Undress, than ever I had seen - her, tho’ adorn’d with the utmost Illustrations. She seem’d - surpriz’d at seeing me so early, and with her wonted good - Humour, asking me the reason of it, put me into a mortal Agony - how to answer her, for I must assure you, Brother, that the - fears of her Displeasure were a thousand times more dreadful - to me, than any other apprehensions; she repeated the Question - three or four times before I had Courage to Reply, and I - believe she was pretty near guessing the Truth by my Silence, - and the disorder in my Countenance before I spoke; and when I - did, she receiv’d the account of the whole Adventure with a - vast deal of trouble, but no anger; she knew too well, what I - ow’d to my Reputation, and the Post his Majesty had honour’d me - with, to believe, I cou’d, or ought to dispence with submitting - to the Reflections which must have fallen on me, had I acted - otherwise than I did. Her Concern and Tears, which she had not - Power to contain at the thoughts of my Departure, joyn’d with - her earnest Conjurations to me to be gone, let me more than - ever into the Secrets of her Heart, and gave me a Pleasure as - inconceivable as the necessity of parting did the contrary. - Nothing cou’d be more moving than our taking leave, and when - she tore her self half willing, and half unwilling, from - my Arms, had sent me away inconsolable, if her Promises of - coming to _Paris_, as soon as she could, without being taken - notice of, and frequently writing to me in the mean time, - had not given me a Hope, tho’ a distant one, of Happiness. - Thus Brother, have I given you, in as few Words as I cou’d, a - Recital of every thing that has happen’d to me of Consequence - since our Separation, in which I dare believe you will find - more to Pity than Condemn. The afflicted Chevalier cou’d not - conclude without letting fall some Tears; which the _Count_ - perceiving, ran to him, and tenderly embracing him, said all - that cou’d be expected from a most affectionate Friend to - mitigate his Sorrows, nor suffered him to remove from his Arms - ’till he had accomplish’d his Design; and then believing the - hearing of the Adventures of another, (especially one he was - so deeply interested in) would be the surest Means to give a - Truce to the more melancholy Reflections on his own; related - every thing that had befallen him since his coming to _Paris_. - The Letters he receiv’d from a Lady _Incognito_, his little - Gallantries with AMENA, and the accident that presented to his - View, the unknown Lady in the Person of one of the greatest - Fortunes in all _France_. Nothing cou’d be a greater Cordial - to the Chevalier, than to find his Brother was belov’d by the - Sister of ANSELLINA; he did not doubt but that by this there - might be a possibility of seeing her sooner than else he cou’d - have hop’d, and the two Brothers began to enter into a serious - consultation of this Affair, which ended with a Resolution - to fix their Fortunes there. The _Count_ had never yet seen - a Beauty formidable enough to give him an Hours uneasiness - (purely for the sake of Love) and would often say, _Cupid_’s - Quiver never held an Arrow of force to reach his Heart; those - little Delicacies, those trembling aking Transports, which - every sight of the belov’d Object occasions, and so visibly - distinguishes a real Passion from a Counterfeit, he look’d on - as the Chimera’s of an idle Brain, form’d to inspire Notions of - an imaginary Bliss, and make Fools lose themselves in seeking; - or if they had a Being; it was only in weak Souls, a kind of - a Disease with which he assur’d himself he should never be - infected. Ambition was certainly the reigning Passion in his - Soul, and ALOVISA’S Quality and vast Possessions, promising a - full Gratification of that, he ne’er so much as wish’d to know - a farther Happiness in Marriage. - - But while the _Count_ and _Chevalier_ were thus Employ’d, - the Rival Ladies past their Hours in a very different - Entertainment, the despair and bitter Lamentations that the - unfortunate AMENA made, when she came out of her swooning, were - such as mov’d even ALOVISA to Compassion, and if any thing - but resigning D’ELMONT cou’d have given her Consolation, she - wou’d willing have apply’d it. There was now no need of further - Dissimulation, and she confessed to AMENA, that she had Lov’d - the Charming _Count_ with a kind of Madness from the first - Moment she beheld him: That to favour her Designs on him, she - had made use of every Stratagem she cou’d invent, that by her - means, the Amour was first discover’d to _Monsieur_ SANSEVERIN, - and his Family Alarm’d the Night before; and Lastly, that by - her Persuasions, he had resolv’d to send her to a Monastry, to - which she must prepare her self to go in a few Days without - taking any leave even of her Father; have you (cry’d AMENA - hastily interrupting her) have you prevail’d with my Father to - send me from this hated Place without the Punishment of hearing - his upbraidings? Which the other answering in the Affirmative, - I thank you, resum’d AMENA, that Favour has cancell’d all your - Score of Cruelty, for after the Follies I have been guilty of, - nothing is so dreadful as the Sight of him. And, who wou’d, oh - Heavens! (continued she bursting into a Flood of Tears) wish - to stay in a World so full of Falshood. She was able to utter - no more for some Moments, but at last, raising herself on the - Bed where she was laid, and endeavouring to seem a little - more compos’d: I have two Favours, Madam, yet to ask of you - (rejoin’d she) neither of ’em will, I believe, seem difficult - to you to grant, that you will make use of the Power you have - with my Father, to let my Departure be as sudden as possible, - and that while I am here, I may never see Count D’ELMONT. It - was not likely that ALOVISA shou’d deny Requests so suitable - to her own Inclinations, and believing, with a great deal of - Reason, that her Presence was not very grateful, left her to - the Care of her Women, whom she order’d to attend her with the - same Diligence as herself. It was Evening before the Count - came, and ALOVISA spent the remainder of the Day in very - uneasie Reflections; she knew not, as yet, whether she had - Cause to rejoyce in, or blame her Fortune in so unexpectedly - discovering her Passion, and an incessant vicissitude of Hope - and Fears, rack’d her with most intollerable Inquietude, till - the darling Object of her Wishes appear’d; and tho’ the first - sight of him, added to her other Passions, that of Shame, yet - he manag’d his Address so well, and so modestly and artfully - hinted the Knowledge of his Happiness, that every Sentiment - gave place to a new Admiration of the Wonders of his Wit; and - if before she lov’d, she now ador’d, and began to think it a - kind of Merit in herself, to be sensible of his. He soon put - it in her Power to oblige him, by giving her the History of - his Brother’s Passion for her Sister, and she was not at all - backward in assuring him how much she approv’d of it, and that - she wou’d write to ANSELLINA by the first Post, to engage her - coming to _Paris_ with all imaginable Speed. In fine, there - was nothing He cou’d ask, refus’d, and indeed it would have - been ridiculous for her to have affected Coyness, after the - Testimonies she had long since given him of one of the most - violent Passions that ever was; this fore-Knowledge sav’d - abundance of Dissimulation on both Sides, and she took care - that if he should be wanting in his kind Expressions after - Marriage, he should not have it in his Power to pretend (as - some Husbands have done) that his Stock was exhausted in a - tedious Courtship. Everything was presently agreed upon, and - the Wedding Day appointed, which was to be as soon as every - thing cou’d be got ready to make it Magnificent; tho’ the - _Count’s_ good Nature made him desirous to learn something of - AMENA, yet he durst not enquire, for fear of giving an Umbrage - to his intended Bride; but she, imagining the Reason of his - Silence, very frankly told him, how she was to be dispos’d - of, this Knowledge made no small Addition to his Contentment, - for had she stay’d in _Paris_, he could expect nothing but - continual Jealousies from ALOVISA; besides, as he really - wish’d her happy, tho’ he could not make her so, he thought - Absence might banish a hopeless Passion from her Heart, and - Time and other Objects efface an Idea, which could not but be - destructive to her Peace. He stay’d at ALOVISA’S House ’till it - was pretty late, and perhaps they had not parted in some Hours - longer, if his impatience to inform his Brother his Success, - had not carried him away. The young _Chevalier_ was infinitely - more transported at the bare Hopes of being something nearer - the Aim of all his Hopes, than D’ELMONT was at the Assurance - of losing his in Possession, and could not forbear rallying - him for placing the ultimate of his Wishes on such a Toy, as - he argu’d Woman was, which the _Chevalier_ endeavouring to - confute, there began a very warm Dispute, in which, neither of - ’em being able to convince the other, Sleep at last interpos’d - as Moderator. The next Day they went together to visit ALOVISA, - and from that time were seldom asunder: But in Compassion to - AMENA, they took what Care they could to conceal the Design - they had in Hand, and that unhappy Lady was in a few Days, - according to her Rival’s Contrivance, hurried away, without - seeing any of her Friends. When she was gone, and there was no - farther need of keeping it a Secret, the News of this great - Wedding was immediately spread over the whole Town, and every - one talk’d of it as their particular Interests or Affections - dictated. All D’ELMONT’S Friends were full of Joy, and he - met no inconsiderable Augmentation of it himself, when his - Brother receiv’d a Letter from ANSELLINA, with an Account, - that BELPINE’S Wound was found not Dangerous, and that he was - in a very fair way of Recovery. And it was concluded, that as - soon as the Wedding was over, the _Chevalier_ should go in - Person to AMIENS, and fetch his belov’d ANSELLINA, in order - for a Second, and as much desir’d Nuptial. There was no Gloom - now left to Cloud the Gaiety of the happy Day, nothing could - be more Grand than the Celebration of it, and ALOVISA now - thought her self at the end of all her Cares; but the Sequel - of this glorious Beginning, and what Effect the Despair and - Imprecations of AMENA (when she heard of it) produc’d, shall, - with the continuance of the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S Adventures, - be faithfully related in the next Part. - -End of the FIRST PART. - -[Illustration] - - - - - LOVE in _Excess_: - OR, THE - FATAL INQUIRY, - A - NOVEL. - - PART the SECOND. - - By _Mrs._ HAYWOOD. - - _Each Day we break the bond of Humane Laws_ - _For Love, and vindicate the common Cause._ - _Laws for Defence of civil Rights are plac’d;_ - _Love throws the Fences down, and makes a gen’ral waste_ - _Maids, Widows, Wives, without distinction fall,_ - _The sweeping deluge Love, comes on and covers all._ - - DRYDEN. - - [Illustration] - - LONDON: - Printed for W. CHETWOOD, J. WOODMAN, D. - BROWN, and S. CHAPMAN. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -LOVE in EXCESS: - -OR, THE - -FATAL ENQUIRY. - -PART the SECOND. - - -The Contentment that appear’d in the Faces of the new Married Pair, -added so much to the Impatience of the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN to see his -belov’d ANSELLINA, that in a few Days after the Wedding, he took leave -of them, and departed for _Amiens_: But as human Happiness is seldom of -long continuance, and ALOVISA placing the Ultimate of _her’s_ in the -Possession of her Charming Husband, secure of that, despis’d all future -Events, ’twas time for _Fortune_, who long enough had smil’d, now to turn -her Wheel, and punish the presumption that defy’d her Power. - -As they were one Day at Dinner, a Messenger came to Acquaint _Count_ -D’ELMONT that _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE was taken, suddenly, so violently -Ill, that his Physicians despair’d of his Life; and that he beg’d to -speak with him immediately: This Gentleman had been Guardian to the COUNT -during his Minority, and the Care and Faithfulness with which that Trust -had been Discharg’d, made him, with Reason, to regret the danger of -losing so good a Friend: He delay’d the Visit not a Moment, and found him -as the Servant had told him, in a Condition which cou’d cherish no hopes -of Recovery, as soon as he perceiv’d the COUNT come into the Chamber, he -desir’d to be left alone with him, which Order being presently obey’d, -My dear Charge, (said he taking him by the Hand, and pressing to his -trembling Bosom) you see me at the point of Death, but the knowledge of -your many Virtues, and the Confidence I have that you will not deny me -the request I am about to ask, makes me support the Thoughts of it with -Moderation. The other assuring him of his readiness to serve him in any -Command, encourag’d the old Gentleman to prosecute his Discourse in this -manner: You are not Ignorant, my Lord (Rejoin’d He) that my Son (the only -one have) is on his Travels, gone by my Approbation, and his own Desires -to make the Tour of _Europe_; but I have a Daughter, whose Protection I -wou’d entreat you to undertake; her Education in a Monastery has hitherto -kept her intirely unacquainted with the Gayeties of a Court, or the -Conversation of the _Beau Monde_, and I have sent for her to _Paris_ -purposely to Introduce her into Company, proper for a young Lady, who I -never design’d for a Recluse; I know not whether she will be here time -enough to close my Eyes, but if you will promise to receive her into -your House, and not suffer her artless and unexperienc’d Youth to fall -into those Snares which are daily laid for Innocence, and take so far a -Care, that neither she, nor the Fortune I leave her, be thrown away upon -a Man unworthy of her, I shall dye well satisfy’d. D’ELMONT answer’d -this Request, with repeated assurances of fulfilling it, and frankly -offer’d, if he had no other Person in whom he rather wou’d confide, to -take the management of the whole Estate he left behind him, till young -FRANKVILLE should return----The anxious Father was transported at this -Favour, and thank’d him in Terms full of Gratitude and Affection; they -spent some Hours in settling this Affair, and perhaps had not ended it so -soon, if Word had not been brought that the young Lady his Daughter was -alighted at the Gate; ’tis impossible to express the Joy which fill’d the -old Gentleman’s Heart at this News, and he began afresh to put the COUNT -in mind of what he had promis’d concerning her: As they were in this -endearing, tho’ mournful Entertainment, the matchless MELLIORA enter’d, -the Surprize and Grief for her Father’s Indisposition (having heard of -it but since she came into the House) hindered her from regarding any -thing but him, and throwing herself on her Knees by the Bed-side, wash’d -the Hand which he stretch’d out to raise her with, in a flood of Tears, -accompany’d with Expressions, which, unstudy’d and incoherent as they -were, had a delicacy in ’em, that show’d her Wit not inferiour to her -Tenderness; and that no Circumstance cou’d render her otherwise than -the most lovely Person in the World; when the first transports of her -Sorrow were over, and that with much ado she was persuaded to rise from -the Posture she was in: The Affliction I see thee in my Dear Child, -(said her Father) wou’d be a vast addition to the Agonies I feel, were I -not so happy as to be provided with Means for a mitigation of it, think -not in losing me thou wilt be left wholly an Orphan, this worthy Lord -will dry thy Tears. Therefore, my last Commands to thee shall be, to -oblige thee to endeavour to deserve the Favours he is pleas’d to do us -in accepting thee for---He wou’d have proceeded, but his Physicians (who -had been in Consultation in the next Room) coming in prevented him, and -_Count_ D’ELMONT taking the charming MELLIORA by the Hand, led her to -the Window, and beginning to speak some Words of Consolation to her, -the softness of his Voice, and graceful Manner with which he deliver’d -himself (always the inseparable Companions of his Discourse, but now more -particularly so) made her cast her Eyes upon him; but alas, he was not -an Object to be safely gaz’d at, and in spight of the Grief she was in, -she found something in his Form which dissipated it; a kind of painful -Pleasure, a mixture of Surprize, and Joy, and doubt, ran thro’ her in an -instant; her Fathers Words suggested to her Imagination, that she was in -a possibility of calling the charming Person that stood before her, by a -Name more tender than that of Guardian, and all the Actions, Looks, and -Address of D’ELMONT serv’d but to confirm her in that Belief. For now it -was, that this insensible began to feel the Power of Beauty, and that -Heart which had so long been Impregnable, surrender’d in a Moment; the -first sight of MELLIORA gave him a Discomposure he had never felt before, -he Sympathiz’d in all her Sorrows, and was ready to joyn his Tears with -hers, but when her Eyes met his, the God of Love seem’d there to have -united all his Lightnings for one effectual Blaze, their Admiration of -each others Perfections was mutual, and tho’ he had got the start in -Love, as being touch’d with that Almighty Dart, before her Affliction had -given her leave to regard him, yet the softness of her Soul made up for -that little loss of time, and it was hard to say whose Passion was the -Strongest; she listned to his Condolements, and assurances of everlasting -Friendship, with a pleasure which was but too visible in her Countenance, -and more enflam’d the COUNT. As they were exchanging Glances, as if each -vyed with the other who should dart the fiercest Rays, they heard a sort -of ominous Whispering about the Bed, and presently one of those who -stood near it, beckon’d them to come thither; the Physicians had found -_Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE in a much worse Condition than they left him in, -and soon after perceiv’d evident Symptoms in him of approaching Death, -and indeed there were but a very few Moments between him and that other -unfathomable World; the use of Speech had left him, and he cou’d take -no other leave of his dear Daughter than with his Eyes; which sometimes -were cast tenderly on her, sometimes on the COUNT, with a beseeching -Look, as it were, to Conjure him to be careful of his Charge; then up to -Heaven, as witness of the Trust he reposed in him. There cou’d not be a -Scene more Melancholly than this dumb Farewell, and MELLIORA, whose soft -Disposition had never before been shock’d, had not Courage to support so -dreadful a one as this, but fell upon the Bed just as her Father Breath’d -his last, as motionless as he. It is impossible to represent the Agony’s -which fill’d the Heart of D’ELMONT at this View, he took her in his Arms, -and assisted those who were endeavouring to recover her, with a wildness -in his Countenance, a trembling Horror shaking all his Fabrick in such a -manner, as might have easily discover’d to the Spectators (if they had -not been too busily employ’d to take notice of it) that he was Actuated -by a Motive far more powerful than that of Compassion. As soon as she -came to herself, they forc’d her from the Dead Body of her Father (to -which she Clung) and carried her into another Room, and it being judg’d -convenient that she should be remov’d from that House, where every thing -wou’d serve but to remind her of her Loss, the COUNT desir’d the Servants -of _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE shou’d be call’d, and then in the presence of -’em all, declar’d their Master’s last Request, and order’d an Account of -all Affairs shou’d be brought to his House, where he wou’d immediately -Conduct their young Lady, as he had promis’d to her Father. If MELLIORA -had been without any other cause of Grief, this Eclaircissment had been -sufficient to have made her Miserable: She had already entertained a -most tender Affection for the COUNT, and had not so little discernment -as not to be sensible she had made the like Impression on him; but now -she wak’d as from a Dream of promis’d Joys, to certain Woes, and the same -Hour which gave Birth to her Passion, commenc’d an adequate Despair, and -kill’d her Hopes just budding. - -Indeed there never was any Condition so truly deplorable as that of this -unfortunate Lady; she had just lost a dear and tender Father, whose -Care was ever watchful for her, her Brother was far off, and she had no -other Relation in the World to apply her self to for Comfort, or Advice; -not even an Acquaintance at _Paris_, or Friend, but him who but newly -was become so, and whom she found it dangerous to make use of, whom she -knew it was a Crime to Love, yet cou’d not help Loving; the more she -thought, the more she grew Distracted, and the less able to resolve on -any Thing; a thousand Times she call’d on Death to give her ease, but -that pale Tyrant flies from the Pursuer, she had not been yet long enough -acquainted with the ills of Life, and must endure (how unwilling soever) -her part of Sufferings in common with the rest of human kind. - -As soon as D’ELMONT had given some necessary Directions to the Servants, -he came to the Couch, where she was sitting in a fix’d and silent Sorrow -(tho’ inwardly toss’d with various and violent Agitations) and offering -her his Hand, entreated her to permit him to wait on her from that House -of Woe. Alas! Said she, to what purpose shou’d I remove, who bear my -Miseries about me? Wretch that I am!---a flood of Tears, here interpos’d, -and hindred her from proceeding, which falling from such lovely Eyes, -had a Magnetick Influence to draw the same from every beholder; but -D’ELMONT who knew that was not the way to Comfort her, dry’d his as soon -as possible, and once more beg’d she wou’d depart; suffer my return then -(answer’d she) to the Monastery, for what have I to do in _Paris_ since -I have lost my Father? By no means, Madam (resum’d the _Count_ hastily) -that were to disappoint your Fathers Designs, and contradict his last -Desires; believe most lovely MELLIORA (continu’d he taking her by the -Hand and letting fall some Tears which he cou’d not restrain, upon it) -that I bear at least an equal Share in your Affliction, and lament for -you, and for my self: Such a regard my grateful Soul paid _Monsieur_ -FRANKVILLE for all his wondrous Care and Goodness to me, that in his -Death methinks I am twice an Orphan. But Tears are fruitless to reinspire -his now cold Clay, therefore must transmit the Love and Duty I owed him -living, to his Memory Dead, and an exact performance of his Will; and -since he thought me worthy of so vast a Trust as MELLIORA, I hope she -will be guided by her Fathers Sentiments, and believe that D’ELMONT (tho’ -a Stranger to her) has a Soul not uncapable of Friendship. Friendship! -Did I say? (rejoyn’d he softning his Voice) that term is too mean to -express a Zeal like mine, the Care, the Tenderness, the Faith, the fond -Affection of Parents,---Brothers, ---Husbands,---Lovers, all Compriz’d -in one! One great Unutterable! Comprehensive Meaning, is mine! for -MELLIORA! She return’d no Answer but Sighs, to all he said to her; but -he renewing his Entreaties, and urging her Father’s Commands, she was at -last prevail’d upon to go into his Chariot, which had waited at the Door -all the Time of his being there. - -As they went, he left nothing unsaid that he believ’d might tend to -her Consolation, but she had Griefs which at present he was a Stranger -to; and his Conversation, in which she found a thousand Charms, rather -Encreas’d, than Diminish’d the trouble she was in: Every Word, every Look -of his, was a fresh Dagger to her Heart, and in spight of the Love she -bore her Father, and the unfeign’d Concern his sudden Death had given -her, she was now convinc’d that COUNT D’ELMONT’S Perfections were her -severest Wounds. - -When they came to his House, He presented her to ALOVISA, and giving her -a brief Account of what had happened, engag’d that Lady to receive her -with all imaginable Demonstrations of Civility and Kindness. - -He soon left the two Ladies together, pretending Business, but indeed to -satisfie his Impatience, which long’d for an opportunity to meditate on -this Adventure. But his Reflections were now grown far less pleasing than -they used to be; real Sighs flew from his Breast uncall’d: And MELLIORA’S -Image in dazling Brightness! In terrible Array of killing Charms; Fir’d -Him with (impossible to be attain’d) Desires: he found by sad Experience -what it was to Love, and to Despair. He Admir’d! Ador’d! And wish’d, even -to Madness! Yet had too much Honour, too much Gratitude for the Memory -of Monsieur FRANKVILLE; and too sincere an Awe for the lovely Cause of -his Uneasiness, to form a Thought that cou’d encourage his new Passion. -What wou’d he not have given to have been Unmarried? How often did he -Curse the Hour in which ALOVISA’S fondness was discover’d? And how much -more his own Ambition, which prompted him to take Advantage of it, and -hurry’d him Precipitately to a Hymen, where Love, (the noblest Guest) was -wanting? It was in these racks of Thought, that the unfortunate AMENA was -remembr’d, and he cou’d not forbear acknowledging the Justice of that -Doom, which inflicted on him, these very Torments he had given her. A -severe Repentance seiz’d on his Soul, and ALOVYSA for whom he never had -any thing more than an Indifferency; now began to seem Distasteful to his -Fancy, he look’d on her, as indeed she was, the chief Author of AMENA’S -Misfortunes, and abhorr’d her for that Infidelity. But when he consider’d -her, as the Bar ’twixt Him and MELLIORA she appear’d like his ill Genius -to him, and he cou’d not support the Thoughts of being oblig’d to love -her (or at least to seem as if he did) with Moderation. In the midst of -these Reflections his Servant came in and deliver’d a Letter to him which -had been just left by the Post. The COUNT immediately knew the Hand to be -AMENA’S, and was cover’d with the utmost Confusion and Remorse when he -read these Lines. - - [Illustration] - - To the too Charming and Perfidious D’ELMONT. - - _Now Hopes, and Fears, and Jealousies are over! Doubt is no - more! You are for ever lost! And my unfaithful, happy Rival! - Triumphs in your Arms, and my Undoing!----I need not wish - you Joy, the haste you made to enter into Hymen’s Bonds, and - the more than ordinary Pomp with which that Ceremony was - Celebrated, assures me you are highly satisfied with your - Condition; and that any future Testimonies of the Friendship - of so wretched a Creature as AMENA, wou’d be receiv’d by you, - with the same Disregard, as those she has given you of a more - tender Passion.----Shameful Remembrance! Oh that I cou’d Blot - it out!----Erace from the Book of Time those fond deluded - Hours! Forget I ever saw the Lovely false D’ELMONT! Ever - listned to his soft persuasive Accents! And thought his love - a mighty Price for Ruin------My Father writes that you are - Married, Commands my Return to Paris, and assume an Air as Gay, - and Chearful as that with which I used to appear.----Alas! How - little does he know his Daughters Heart? And how impossible - is it, for me to Obey him, can I look on you as the Husband - of ALOVYSA, without remembring you were once the Lover of - AMENA? Can Love like mine, so fierce, so passionately, tender, - e’re sink to a calm, cold Indifference? Can I behold the fond - Endearments of your bridal Joys (which you’d not be able to - Restrain, even before me) and not burst with Envy? No, the - Sight wou’d turn me quite Distracted, and I shou’d commit some - Desperate Violence that wou’d Undoe us all.---Therefore, I hide - my self for ever from it, bid an everlasting Adieu to all the - gay Delights and Pleasures of my Youth.-----To all the Pomp - and Splendor of the Court.-----To all that the mistaken World - calls Happiness.---To Father, Friends, Relations, all that’s - Dear----But your Idea, and that, not even these consecrated - Walls, nor Iron Gates keep out; Sleeping or Waking you are - ever with me, you mingle with my most solemn Devotions; and - while I Pray to Heaven that I may think on you no more, a - guilty Pleasure rises in my Soul, and contradicts my Vows! All - my Confessions are so many Sins, and the same Breath which - tells my Ghostly Father I abjure your Memory, speaks your dear - Name with Transport. Yes----Cruel! Ungrateful!---Faithless - as you are, I still do Love you----Love you to that infinite - degree, that now, methinks fir’d with thy Charms (repenting - all I’ve said) I cou’d wish even to renew those Moments of my - Ruin!----Pity me D’ELMONT, if thou hast Humanity.-----Judge - what the rackings of my Soul must be, when I resolve, with all - this Love, this Languishment about me; never to see you more._ - - _Every thing is preparing for my Reception into holy Orders, - (how unfit I am Heaven knows) and in a few Days I shall put on - the Vail which excludes me from the World for ever; therefore, - if these distracted Lines are worth an Answer, it must be - Speedy, or it will not come to my Hands. Perhaps not find me - Living.-----I can no more-----Farewel (thou dear Destroyer of - my Soul)_ - - _Eternally Farewel_, AMENA. - - _P.S._ _I_ do not urge you to write, _Alovisa_ (I wish I - cou’d not say your Wife) will perhaps think it too great - a Condescention, and not suffer you so long from her - Embraces.----Yet if you can get loose.----But you know best - what’s proper to be done----Forgive the restlesness of a - dispairing Wretch, who cannot cease to Love, tho’ from this - Moment she must cease to tell you so---Once more, and for Ever, - - Adieu. - -Had this Letter came a Day sooner, ’tis probable it wou’d have had but -little Effect on the Soul of D’ELMONT, but his Sentiments of Love were -now so wholly chang’d, that what before he wou’d but have laugh’d at, and -perhaps despis’d, now fill’d him with Remorse and serious Anguish. He -read it over several Times, and found so many Proofs in it of a sincere -and constant Affection, that he began to pity Her, with a Tenderness like -that of a Relation, but no more: The charming MELLIORA had Engross’d all -his fonder Wishes; else it is not impossible but that ALOVISA might have -had more Reason to fear her Rivalship after Marriage, than before. That -Lady having been without the presence of her dear Husband some Hours, -had not patience to remain any longer without seeing Him, and making an -excuse to MELLIORA for leaving her alone, came running to the Closet -where he was; how unwelcome she was grown, the Reader may imagine, he -receiv’d her, not as he was wont; the Gaity which used to sparkle in his -Eyes, (at once declaring, and creating Amorous desires) now gave Place to -a sullen Gloominess, he look’d not on her, or if by chance he did; ’twas -more with Anger than with Love, in spite of his endeavours to conceal it, -she was too quick sighted (as all are that truly Love) not to be sensible -of this Alteration. However she took no notice of it, but Kissing -and Embracing him (according to her Custom whenever they were alone) -beg’d him to leave his solitary Amusement, and help her to Comfort the -afflicted Lady he brought there. Her Endearments serv’d but to encrease -his Peevishness, and heighten her Surprize at his Behaviour; and indeed, -the Moment that she enter’d the Closet was the last of her Tranquility. - -When with much perswasions she had prevail’d with him to go with her into -the Room where MELLIORA was, he appeared so disorder’d at the second -Sight of that Charmer, as wou’d certainly have let ALOVYSA into the -secret of his Passion, had she not been retir’d to a Window to recover -herself from the Confusion her Husbands coldness had thrown her in, -and by that fortunate disregard of his Looks at that critical Instant, -given him (who never wanted presence of Mind) leave to form both his -Countenance and manner of Address, so as to give no suspicion of the -Truth. - -This little Company was very far from being Entertaining to one another; -every one had their particular Cogitations, and were not displeas’d not -to be Interrupted in them. It growing late, ALOVYSA conducted MELLIORA to -a Chamber which she had order’d to be prepar’d for her, and then retir’d -to her own, hoping that when the COUNT shou’d come to Bed, she might be -able to make some Discovery of the Cause of his Uneasiness. But she was -deceiv’d, he spoke not to her, and when by a thousand little Inventions -she urg’d him to reply to what she said, it was in such a fashion as -only let her see, that he was extreamly troubled at something, but cou’d -not guess at what. As soon as Day broke, he rose, and shutting himself -into his Closet, left her in the greatest Consternation imaginable; she -cou’d not think it possible that the Death of _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE -shou’d work this Transformation, and knew of no other Misfortune that had -happened. At last she remembred she had heard one of the Servants say, a -Letter was brought to their Master by the Post, and began to reflect on -every Thing (in the power of _Fortune_ to determine) that cou’d threaten -a Disturbance, yet was still as ignorant as ever. She lay not long in -Bed, but putting on her Cloaths with more Expedition than usual went -to the Closet, resolving to speak to him in a manner as shou’d oblige -him to put an end to the uncertainty she was in, but finding the Door -lock’d, her Curiosity made her look thro’ the Keyhole, and she saw him -sometimes very intirely reading a Letter, and sometimes writing, as tho’ -it were an Answer to it. A sudden Thought came into her Head, and she -immediately went softly from the place where she was, without knocking -at the Door, and stay’d in a little Chamber adjacent to it, where none -could pass to, or from the Closet without being perceiv’d by her; she had -not waited long, before she heard the _Count_ Ring, and presently saw a -Servant enter, and soon after return with a Letter in his Hand; she wou’d -not speak to him then, for fear of being over heard by her Husband, but -followed him down Stairs, and when he came towards the bottom, call’d -to him in a low Voice to tarry ’till she came to him; the Fellow durst -not but Obey, and there being no body near ’em, commanded him to deliver -her the Letter: But he either afraid or unwilling to betray his Trust, -excus’d himself from it as well as he cou’d, but she was resolv’d to have -it; and when Threats wou’d not avail, condescended to Entreaties, to -which she added Bribes, which last Article join’d to the promise she made -of never revealing it, won him to her Purpose. She had scarce patience -to forbear opening it before she got to her Chamber: The Superscription -(which she saw was for AMENA) fir’d her with Disdain and Jealousie, and -it is hardly possible to imagine, much less to describe the Torrent of -her Indignation, when she found that it contain’d these Words. - - [Illustration] - - To the Lovely AMENA. - - _You accuse me of Cruelty, when at the same Time you kill - me with yours: How Vile! How despicable, must I be grown in - your Opinion, when you believe I can be Happy, when you are - Miserable?---Can I enjoy the Pleasures of a Court, while you - are shut within a Cloyster?----Shall I suffer the World to - be depriv’d of such a Treasure as AMENA? For the Crime of - worthless D’ELMONT-----No, no Fair, injur’d Softness, Return, - and bless the Eyes of every Beholder! Shine out again in your - native Lustre, uneclips’d by Grief, the Star of Beauty and - the guide of Love.---And, if my unlucky Presence will be a - Damp to the Brightness of your Fires, I will for ever quit the - Place.----Tho’ I cou’d wish, you’d give me leave sometimes to - gaze upon you, and draw some hop’d Presages of future Fortune - from the Benignity of your Influence,---Yes, AMENA, I wou’d - sigh out my Repentance at your Feet, and try at least to obtain - a Pardon for my Infidelity.----For, ’tis true, what you have - heard,----I am Marry’d---But oh AMENA! Happiness is not always - an Attendant on HYMEN.--However, I yet may call you Friend--I - yet may Love you, tho’ in a different way from what I once - pretended to; and believe me, that the Love of Souls, as it - is the most uncommon, especially in our Sex, so ’tis the most - refin’d and noble of all Passions, and such a Love shall be - for ever yours. Even ALOVISA (who has robb’d you of the rest) - cannot justly resent my giving you that part,----You’ll wonder - at this Alteration in my Temper, but ’tis sincere, I am no - more the Gay, the Roving D’ELMONT, and when you come to PARIS, - perhaps you will find me in a Condition more liable to your - Pity than Indignation. What shall I say AMENA? My Crime is my - Punishment, I have offended against Love, and against you, and - am, if possible, as Miserable, as Guilty: Torn with Remorse, - and Tortur’d with----I cannot----must not Name it----but ’tis - something which can be term’d no other than the utmost severity - of my Fate.---Haste then to Pity me, to comfort, to advise - me, if (as you say) you yet retain any remains of your former - Tenderness for this Ungrateful Man_, - - D’ELMONT. - -Ungrateful indeed! Cry’d ALOVISA (Transported with Excess of Rage and -Jealousie) Oh the Villain!---What Miseries! What Misfortunes are these -thou talk’st of? What Unhappiness has waited on thy _Himen_? ’Tis I alone -am wretched! base Deceiver! - -Then, as if she wanted to discover something farther to heighten the -Indignation she was in, she began to read it over again, and indeed the -more she consider’d the meaning of what she read, the more her Passions -swell’d, ’till they got at last the entire Dominion of her Reason: She -tore the Letter in a thousand pieces, and was not much less unmerciful -to her Hair and Garments. ’Tis possible, that in the Violence of her -Fury, she might have forgot her promise to the Servant, to vent some part -of it on her Husband, if her Woman coming into the Room to know if she -was ready to dress, had not prevented her, by telling her the _Count_ -was gone abroad, and had left Word, that he shou’d not return ’till -the Evening. ALOVISA had thrown herself on the Bed, and the Curtains -being drawn discover’d not the disorder she was in, and which her Pride -made her willing shou’d be still a Secret, therefore dismist her with -saying, she wou’d call her when she wanted any thing. Tho’ ALOVISA -was too apt to give a loose to her Passions on every occasion, to the -Destruction of her own Peace, yet she knew well enough how to disguise -’em, when ever she found the Concealing of them wou’d be an Advantage -to her Designs: And when the Transports of her Rage was so far over, as -to give her Liberty of Reflection, and she began to Examine the State -of her Affection to the _Count_, she soon perceiv’d it had so much the -better of all other Considerations, that in spite of the injustice she -thought him guilty of to her, she cou’d not perswade her self to do any -thing that might give him a pretence to Quarrel with her. She thought -she had done enough in Intercepting this Letter, and did not doubt but -that AMENA wou’d take his not writing to her so much to Heart, as to -prevent her ever returning to _Paris_, and resolv’d to omit nothing of -her former Endearments, or make a shew of being in the least disoblig’d; -this sort of Carriage she imagin’d wou’d not only lay him more open and -unguarded to the diligent watch she design’d to make on all his Words -and Actions, but likewise awaken him to a just Sense of her Goodness, -and his own Ingratitude.-----She rightly judg’d that when People are -Marry’d, Jealousie was not the proper Method to revive a decay’d Passion, -and that after Possession it must be only Tenderness, and constant -Assiduity to please, that can keep up desire, fresh and gay: Man is too -Arbitrary a Creature to bear the least Contradiction, where he pretends -an absolute Authority, and that Wife who thinks by ill humour and -perpetual Taunts, to make him weary of what she wou’d reclaim him from, -only renders her self more hateful, and makes that justifiable which -before was blameable in him. These, and the like Considerations made -ALOVYSA put on a Countenance of Serenity, and she so well acted the part -of an Unsuspecting Wife, that D’ELMONT was far from imagining what she -had done: However he still behav’d with the same Caution as before, to -MELLIORA; and certainly never did People disguise the Sentiments of their -Souls more artfully than did these three---MELLIORA vail’d her secret -Languishments, under the Covert of her grief for her Father, the COUNT -his Burning anguish, in a gloomy Melancholy for the Loss of his Friend; -but ALOVYSA’S Task was much the hardest, who had no pretence for grief -(raging, and bleeding with neglected Love, and stifled Pride) to frame -her Temper to a seeming Tranquility----All made it their whole study -to deceive each other, yet none but ALOVYSA was intirely in the dark; -for the _Count_ and MELLIORA had but too true a guess at one another’s -meaning, every look of his, for he had Eyes that needed no Interpreter, -gave her Intelligence of his Heart, and the Confusion which the -understanding those looks gave her, sufficiently told him how sensible -she was of ’em.----Several Days they liv’d in this Manner, in which time -_Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE was Interr’d. Which Solemnity, the _Count_ took -care shou’d be perform’d with a Magnificence suitable to the Friendship -he publickly profest to have born him, and the secret Adoration his Soul -paid to his Remains. - -Nothing happned of Moment,’till a Day or two after the Funeral, a -Gentleman newly arriv’d at _Paris_, came to visit the _Count_, and gave -him an Account of AMENA’S having taken the Habit; how, (said D’ELMONT -Interrupting him) is it possible?----Has she then profest? Yes, answer’d -the Gentleman, having a Sister whom I always tenderly lov’d at the -Monastery at St. _Dennis_, my affection oblig’d me to make it in my way -to visit her. AMENA was with her at the Grate, when she receiv’d me; -I know not how, among other Discourses, we hapned to talk of the fine -Gentlemen of _Paris_, which it was Impossible to do, without mentioning -Count D’ELMONT, the COUNT answer’d not this Complement as he wou’d have -done at another time, but only bowing with an humble Air, gave him -Liberty to prosecute his Discourse; the moment (resum’d he) that AMENA -heard your Name, the Tears run from her fair Eyes; in such abundance, and -she seem’d opprest with so violent a Grief, that she was not able to stay -any longer with us. When she was gone, my Sister whom she had made her -Confidant, gave me the History of her Misfortunes, and withal, told me, -that the next Day she was to be Initiated into Holy Orders: My Curiosity -engag’d me to stay at St. _Dennis_, to see the Ceremony perform’d, which -was Solemn; but not with that Magnificence which I expected; it seems it -was AMENA’S desire that it should be as private as possible, and for that -Reason, none of her Relations were there, and several of the Formalities -of Entrance omitted: After it was over, my Sister beckon’d me to come to -the Grate, where I saw her before, and Conjur’d me in the Name of her -new Sister, to give this to your Hands; in speaking these Words, he took -a Letter out of his Pocket, which the COUNT immediately opening, to his -great surprise, found it contain’d, as follows. - - To the Inhuman D’ELMONT. - - _To be pity’d by you, and that you shou’d tell me so, was all - the recompence I ask’d for Loss of Father, Friends, Reputation, - and Eternal Peace; but now, too late, I find that the fond - Maid who scorns the World for Love, is sure to meet for her - reward the scorn of him she Loves----Ungrateful Man! Cou’d you - not spare one Moment from that long Date of Happiness, to give - a last farewel to her you have undone? What wou’d not this - Barbarous Contempt have drawn upon you, were I of ALOVISA’S - Temper? Sure I am, all that disdain and rage, cou’d Inspire - Malice with, had been Inflicted on you, but you well know my - Soul is of a another Stamp.----Fool that I was, and little - vers’d in the base Arts of Man, believ’d I might by tenderness, - and faithful Friendship, gain esteem; tho’ Wit and Beauty the - two great Provocatives to create Love were wanting. But do not - think that I am yet so mean as to desire to hear from you; no, - I have put all future Correspondence with you out of my Power, - and hope to drive it even from my wish: Whether your disdain, - or the Holy Banner I am listed under, has wrought this Effect, - I know not, but methinks I breath another Air, think on you - with more Tranquility, and bid you without dying,_ - - Eternally Adieu, AMENA. - - _P.S._ Let ALOVISA know I am no more her Rival, Heaven has my - Soul, and I forgive you both. - -D’ELMONT was strangely fir’d at the reading these Lines, which left him -no Room to doubt that his Letter had miscarried, he could not presently -imagine by what means, but was resolv’d if possible, to find it out. -However, he dissembled his Thoughts ’till the Gentleman had taken his -leave; then calling for the Servant, whom he had entrusted with the -carrying it, he took him by the Throat, and holding his drawn Sword -directly to his Breast, swore that Moment should be his last, if he did -not immediately confess the Truth; the poor Fellow, frighted almost -to Death, trembling, and falling on his Knees, implor’d Forgiveness, -and discover’d all. ALOVISA who was in the next Chamber, hearing her -Husband call for that Servant, with a Tone somewhat more imperious than -what he was accustom’d to, and a great Noise soon after, imagin’d some -Accident had happen’d to betray her, and ran in to know the Certainty, -just as the _Count_ had discharg’d the Servant, at once from his Service -and his Presence. You have done well Madam (said D’ELMONT, looking on -her with Eyes sparkling with Indignation) you have done well, by your -impertinent Curiosity and Imprudence, to rouze me from my Dream of -Happiness, and remind me, that I am that wretched Thing a Husband! ’Tis -well indeed (answer’d ALOVISA, who saw now that there was no need of -farther Dissimulation) that any thing can make you remember, both what -you are, and what I am. You, (resum’d he, hastily interrupting her) -have taken an effectual Method to prove your self a Wife!----a very -Wife!----Insolent---Jealous---and Censorious!---But Madam (continued he -frowning) since you are pleas’d to assert your Priveledge, be assur’d, I -too shall take my turn, and will exert the---Husband! In saying this, he -flung out of the Room in spite of her Endeavours to hinder him, and going -hastily through a Gallery which had a large Window that looked into the -Garden, he perceived MELLIORA lying on a green Bank, in a melancholy, -but a charming Posture, directly opposite to the Place where he was; her -Beauties appear’d, if possible, more to Advantage than ever he had seen -them, or at least, he had more Opportunity thus unseen by her, to gaze -upon ’em; he in a Moment lost all the Rage of Temper he had been in, and -his whole Soul was taken up with softness; he stood for some Moments -fix’d in silent Admiration, but Love has small Dominion in a Heart, that -can content it self with a distant Prospect, and there being a Pair of -back-Stairs at the farther end of the Gallery, which led to the Garden. -He either forgot, or not regarded what Construction ALOVISA might make on -this private Interview, if by Chance, from any of the Windows she should -be Witness of it. - -MELLIORA was so intent on a Book she had in her Hand, that she saw not -the _Count_ ’till he was close enough to her to discern what was the -Subject of her Entertainment, and finding it the Works of _Monsieur_ -L’FONTENELLE; Philosophy, Madam, at your Age (said he to her with an Air, -which exprest surprize) is as wond’rous as your other Excellencies; but -I am confident, had this Author ever seen MELLIORA, his Sentiments had -been otherwise than now they seem to be, and he would have been able to -write of nothing else but Love and her. MELLIORA blush’d Extremely at his -unexpected Presence, and the Complement he made Her; but recollecting -her self as soon as she cou’d; I have a better Opinion of _Monsieur_ -L’FONTENELLE, (answer’d she) but if I were really Mistress of as many -Charms as you wou’d make me believe, I should think my self little -beholding to Nature, for bestowing them on me, if by their means I were -depriv’d of so choice an Improvement as this Book has given me. Thank -Heaven, then Madam, (resum’d he) that you were born in an Age successive -to that which has produc’d so many fine Treatises of this kind for your -Entertainment; since (I am very Confident) this, and a long space of -future Time will have no other Theme, but that which at present you seem -so much averse to. MELLIORA found so much difficulty in endeavouring to -Conceal the disorder she was in at this Discourse, that it rendered her -unable to reply; and He, (who possibly guest the occasion of her silence) -taking one of her Hands and tenderly pressing it between his, look’d so -full in her Eyes, as heighten’d her Confusion, and discover’d to his -ravish’d View, what most he wish’d to find: Ambition, Envy, Hate, Fear, -or Anger, every other Passion that finds Entrance in the Soul; Art, and -Discretion, may Disguise, but Love, tho’ it may be feign’d, can never be -Conceal’d, not only the Eyes (those true and most Perfect Intelligencers -of the Heart) but every Feature, every Faculty betrays it! It fills the -whole Air of the Person possest with it; it wanders round the Mouth! -Plays in the Voice! trembles in the Accent! And shows it self a thousand -different, nameless ways! Even MELLIORA’S Care to hide it, made it more -apparent, and the Transported D’ELMONT not considering where he was, or -who might be a witness of his Rapture, cou’d not forbear catching her -in his Arms, and grasping her with an Extasie, which plainly told her -what his thoughts were, tho’ at that time he had not Power to put ’em -into Words; and indeed there is no greater proof of a vast and elegant -Passion, than the being uncapable of Expressing it:-----He had perhaps -held her in this strict embrace, ’till some Accident had discover’d and -separated him from her; if the Alarm this manner of Proceeding gave her -Modesty, had not made her force her self from him.---They both stood in -a silent Consternation, nor was he much less disorder’d at the Temerity, -the violence of his ungovernable Passion had made him guilty of, than -she was at the Liberty he had taken; he knew not how to Excuse, nor she, -to Reproach; Respect (the constant Attendant on a sincere Affection) -had tyed his Tongue, and shame mixed with the uncertainty after what -manner she shou’d resent it, Hers. At last, the Natural Confidence of -his Sex Encourag’d him to break this mute Entertainment,--There are -Times Madam (said he) in which the wisest have not Power over their own -Actions---If therefore I have offended, impute not the Crime to me, but -that unavoidable impulse which for a Moment hurry’d me from my self; -for be assured while D’ELMONT can Command his Thoughts, they shall be -most obedient to your Wishes----As MELLIORA was about to reply, she saw -a Servant coming hastily to speak to the COUNT, and was not a little -glad of so favourable an opportunity to retire without being oblig’d to -continue a Discourse in which she must either lay a severe Punishment on -her Inclinations by making a quarrel with him, or by forgiving him too -easily, Trespass against the strict Precepts of Virtue she had always -profess’d: She made what haste she cou’d into her chamber, and carry’d -with her a World of troubled Meditations, she now no longer doubted of -the COUNT’S Passion, and trembled with the Apprehension of what he might -in time be prompted to; but when she Reflected how dear that Person she -had so much cause to fear, was to her, she thought her self, at once the -most unfortunate and most Guilty of her Sex. - -The Servant who gave ’em this seasonable Interruption delivered a Letter -to his Master, which he opening hastily, knowing that it came from his -Brother by the Seal, found the Contents as follows. - - _I hop’d (my Dearest Friend, and Brother) by this day to have - Embrac’d you, but Fortune takes delight to disappoint our - wishes, when highest rais’d, and nearest to their Aim.----The - Letter I carry’d from her, whom I think it my Happiness to - call Sister, joyn’d with my own Faith, Love, and Assiduity; at - length Triumph’d over all the little niceties and objections - my Charmer made against our Journey, and she Condescended to - order every thing requisite for our departure from AMIENS - shou’d be got ready.----But how shall I Express the Grief, the - Horrour, the Distraction of my Soul, when the very Evening - before the Day we shou’d have set out, as I was sitting with - her, a sudden, but terrible Illness, like the Hand of Death - seiz’d on her, she fell (oh! my Brother) Cold, and Speechless - in my Arms------Guess, what I endur’d at that Afflicting - Moment, all that I had of Man, or Reason left me; and sure - had not the Care of the Baroness and some other Ladies (whom - my Cries drew in to her Assistance) in a little time recover’d - her, I had not now surviv’d to give you this Account: Again, - I saw the Beauties of her Eyes! again, I heard her Voice, but - her Disorder was yet so great, that it was thought convenient - she should be put to Bed; the Baroness seeing my Despair, - desired me not to quit her House, and by that Means I had - News every Hour, how her Fevor encreas’d, or abated, for the - Physicians being desir’d to deal freely, assur’d us, that was - her Distemper: For several Days she continued in a Condition - that could give us no Hopes of her Recovery; in which Time, - as you may imagine, I was little capable of Writing.-----The - wildness of my unruly Grief, made me not be permitted to come - into her Chamber; but they cou’d not, without they had made - use of Force, hinder me from lying at her Door: I counted all - her Groans, heard every Sigh the Violence of her Pain drew - from her, and watch’d the Countenance of every Person who came - out of her Chamber, as Men who wou’d form a Judgment of future - Consequences, do the Signs in Heaven.----But I trouble you with - this tedious recital, she is now, if there is any Dependance - on the Doctors Skill, past Danger, tho’ not fit to Travel, - at least this Month, which gives no small Aleviation to the - greatness of my Joys (which otherwise wou’d be unbounded) for - her Recovery, since it occasions so long a Separation from the - best of Brothers, and of Friends: Farewell, may all your Wishes - meet Success, and an Eternal round of Happiness attend you; to - add to mine, I beg you’ll write by the first Post, which, next - to seeing you, is the greatest I can Taste. I am, my Lord, with - all imaginable Tenderness and Respect, your most Affectionate - Brother and Humble Servant,_ - - BRILLIAN. - -The _Count_ judg’d it proper that ALOVISA shou’d see this Letter, because -it so much concern’d her Sister, and was ordering the Servant to carry -it to her, (not being himself willing to speak to her) just as she was -coming towards him: She had receiv’d a Letter from the _Baroness_ DE -BERONVILL, at the same time that the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S was brought, -and was glad to take the Opportunity of Communicating the Contents of -it, in hopes by this Conversation, to be reconcil’d to her Husband: But -the gloomy Sullenness of the Humour he had left her with, return’d at -Sight of her, and after some little Discourse of Family Affairs, which -he could not avoid answering, walk’d carelesly away: She follow’d him at -a distance, ’till he was got up to the Gallery, and perceiving he went -toward his Closet, mended her Pace, and was close to him when he was -going in. My Lord, (said she) with a Voice but half assured, and which -would not have given her leave to utter more, if he had not interrupted -her, by telling her he would be alone, and shutting the Door hastily upon -her, but she prevented his Locking of it, by pushing against it with all -her Force, and he, not exerting his, for fear of hurting her, suffer’d -her Entrance: But look’d on her with a Countenance so forbidding, as in -spite of the natural Haughtiness of her Temper, and the Resolution she -had made to speak to him, render’d her unable for some Moments to bring -forth a Word; but the silent Grief, which appear’d in her Face, pleaded -more with the good Nature of the _Count_, than any thing she could have -said: He began to pity the unhappiness of her too violent Affection, and -to wish himself in a Capacity of returning it, however, he (like other -Husbands) thought it best to keep up his Resentments, and take this -Opportunity of Quelling all the _Woman_ in her Soul, and humbling all -the little Remains of Pride that Love had left her. Madam, (resum’d he) -with an Accent, which tho’ something more softned, was still imperious -enough, if you have any Thing of Consequence to impart to me, I desire -you will be as brief as you can, for I would be left to the Freedom of -my Thoughts---ALOVISA cou’d not yet answer, but letting fall a Shower -of Tears, and throwing her self on the Ground, Embrac’d his Knees with -so Passionate a Tenderness, as sufficiently exprest her Repentance for -having been guilty of any thing to disoblige him: D’ELMONT was most -sensibly touch’d at this Behaviour, so vastly different from what he -cou’d have expected from the greatness of her Spirit, and raising her -with an obliging Air. I am sorry (said he) that any thing should happen -to occasion this Submission, but since what’s past, is out of either of -our Powers to recall: I shall endeavour to think of it no more, provided -you’ll promise me, never for the future to be guilty of any thing which -may give me an uneasiness by the sight of yours----’Tis impossible to -represent the Transport of ALOVISA at this kind Expression, she hung upon -his Neck, kissed the dear Mouth which had pronounc’d her Pardon, with -Raptures of unspeakable Delight, she sigh’d with Pleasure, as before -she had done with Pain, she wept, she even dy’d with Joy!----No, no, my -Lord, my Life, my Angel, (cry’d she, as soon as she had Power to speak) -I never will Offend you more, no more be Jealous, no more be doubtful of -my Happiness! You are!--you will be only mine, I know you will----Your -kind Forgiveness of my Folly, assures me that you are mine, not more by -Duty than by Love! A Tye far more valuable than that of Marriage. The -_Count_ conscious of her Mistake, had much ado to conceal his Disorder -at these Words, and being unwilling she should proceed; as soon as he -could (without seeming unkind or rude) disingag’d himself from her Arms, -and took a Pen in his Hand, which he told her he was about to employ in -answering the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S Letter; ALOVISA who now resolv’d an -entire Obedience to his Will, and remembring he had desired to be alone, -withdrew, full of the Idea of an imagin’d Felicity----Her Heart was now -at ease, she believ’d, that if her Husband had any Remains of Passion for -AMENA, the impossibility of ever seeing her again, would soon extinguish -them, and since she was so happily reconcil’d, was far from repenting her -intercepting of his Letter: But poor Lady, she did not long enjoy this -Peace of Mind, and this Interval of Tranquility serv’d but to heighten -her ensuing Miseries. - -The _Count’s_ secret Passion for MELLIORA grew stronger by his -endeavouring to suppress it, and perceiving that she carefully avoided -all Opportunities of being alone with him one Moment, since his Behaviour -to her in the Garden, he grew almost Distracted with the continual -Restraint he was forc’d to put on all his Words and Actions: He durst not -Sigh nor send an amorous Glance, for fear of offending her, and alarming -his Wive’s Jealousy, so lately lull’d to Sleep: He had no Person in whom -he had Confidence enough to trust with his Misfortune, and had certainly -sunk under the Pressure of it, if ALOVISA, who observing an Alteration -in his Countenance and Humour, fearing he was really indispos’d (which -was the excuse he made for his Melancholly) had not perswaded him to go -into the Country, hoping that change of Air might do him good: He had a -very fine Seat near _Anjerville_ in the Province of _Le Beausse_, which -he had not been at for some Years, and he was very willing to comply with -ALOVISA’S Desires of passing the remainder of the Summer in a Solitude, -which was now become agreeable to him; the greatest Difficulty was, in -perswading MELLIORA to accompany them thither; he guess’d by her reserv’d -Behaviour, that she only waited an Opportunity to leave the Place where -he was, and was not mistaken in his Conjecture: One Day as they were -talking of it, she told them she was resolv’d to return to the Monastery -where she had been Educated, that the World was too noisy a Place for -one of her Taste, who had no relish for any of the Diversions of it: -Every Word she spoke, was like a Dagger to D’ELMONT’S Heart; yet, he so -artfully manag’d his Endeavours, between the Authority of a Guardian, -and the Entreaties of a Friend, that she was at last overcome. ’Tis -hard for the severest Virtue to deny themselves the Sight of the Person -belov’d, and whatever Resolutions we make, there are but few, who like -MELLIORA might not by such a Lover be prevail’d upon to break them. - -As soon as their coming into the Country was spread abroad, they were -visited by all the Neighbouring People of Quality, but there was none -so welcome to D’ELMONT as the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY; they had before the -COUNT’S going into the Army been very intimate Acquaintance, and were -equally glad of this opportunity to renew a Friendship, which Time and -Absence had not entirely erac’d. The _Baron_ had a Sister young, and very -agreeable, but gay even to Coquetry; they liv’d together, being both -single, and he brought her with him, hearing the _Count_ was Married, -to visit his Lady: There were several other young Noble Men and Ladies -there, at the same time, and the Conversation grew so delightfully -Entertaining, that it was impossible for Persons less prepossest than -the COUNT and MELLIORA, to retain their _Chagrin_; but, tho’ there were -scarce any in the Company that might not have list’ned with a pleas’d -Attention, to what those two admirable Persons were capable of saying, -yet their secret Sorrows kept them both in silence, ’till MELANTHA, for -that was the Name of the _Barons_ Sister, took upon her to divert the -Company with some Verses on Love; which she took out of her Pocket-Book -and read to ’em: Every Body extoll’d the softness of the Stile, and -the Subject they were upon. But MELLIORA who was willing to take all -opportunities of Condemning that Passion, as well to conceal it in her -self as to check what ever hopes the _Count_ might have, now discovered -the force of her Reason, the Delicacy of her Wit, and the Penetration -of her Judgment, in a manner so sweetly surprizing to all that were -Strangers to her, that they presently found, that it was not want of -Noble, and truly agreeable Thoughts or Words to express ’em, that had -so long depriv’d them of the Pleasure of hearing her; she urg’d the -Arguments she brought against the giving way to Love, and the Danger of -all softning Amusements, with such a becoming fierceness, as made every -Body of the Opinion that she was born only to create Desire, not be -susceptible of it her self. The _Count_ as he was most Concern’d, took -the most particular Notice of all she said, and was not a little alarm’d -to see her appear so much in earnest, but durst not answer, or Endeavour -to confute her, because of ALOVYSA’S presence: But it was not long before -he had an opportunity, a few Days after he met with one, as full as he -cou’d wish. Returning one Evening from the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S, whom he -had now made the Confident of his Passion, and who had Encourag’d him in -it, he was told that ALOVYSA was gone out to take the Air, and hearing -no mention of MELLIORA’S being with her, he stay’d not to enquire, but -running directly to her Chamber, made his Eyes his best Informers: He -found her lying on a Couch in a most charming Dissabillee, she had but -newly come from Bathing, and her Hair unbraided, hung down upon her -Shoulders with a negligence more Beautiful than all the Aids of Art cou’d -form in the most exact _Decorum_ of Dress; part of it fell upon her Neck -and Breast, and with it’s Lovely Shadiness, being of a Delicate dark -Brown, set off to vast Advantage, the matchless whiteness of her Skin: -Her Gown and the rest of her Garments were white, and all ungirt, and -loosely flowing, discover’d a Thousand Beauties, which Modish Formalities -conceal. A Book lay open by her, on which she had reclin’d her Head, as -if been tir’d with Reading, she Blush’d at sight of the _Count_, and -rose from off the Couch with a Confusion which gave new Lustre to her -Charms, but he not permitting her to stir from the place she was in, sat -down by Her, and casting his Eyes on the Book which lay there, found it -to be _Ovid’s-Epistles_, How Madam (cry’d he, not a little pleas’d with -the Discovery) dare you, who the other Day so warmly inveigh’d against -Writings of this Nature, trust your self with so Dangerous an Amusement? -How happens it, that you are so suddenly come over to our Party? Indeed -my Lord (answer’d she, growing more disorder’d) it was Chance rather than -Choice, that directed this Book to my Hands, I am yet far from approving -Subjects of this Kind, and believe I shall be ever so: Not that I can -perceive any Danger in it, as to my self, the Retirement I have always -liv’d in, and the little Propensity I find to entertain a Thought of that -uneasie Passion, has hitherto secur’d me from any Prepossession, without -which, _Ovid_’s Art is Vain. Nay, Madam, reply’d the _Count_, now you -Contradict your former Argument, which was, that these sort of Books -were, as it were, Preparatives to Love, and by their softning Influence, -melted the Soul, and made it fit for amorous Impressions, and so far, you -certainly were in the right, for when once the Fancy is fixed on a real -Object, there will be no need of Auxillary Forces, the Dear Idea will -spread it self thro’ every Faculty of the Soul, and in a Moment inform -us better, than all the Writings of the most Experienc’d Poets, cou’d do -in an Age. Well, my Lord, (said she endeavouring to Compose her self) I -am utterly unambitious of any Learning this way, and shall endeavour to -retain in Memory, more of the Misfortunes that attended the Passion of -_Sappho_, than the Tender, tho’ never so Elegant Expressions it produc’d: -And if all Readers of Romances took this Method, the Votaries of _Cupid_ -wou’d be fewer, and the Dominion of Reason more Extensive. You speak -(Answer’d D’ELMONT) as tho’ Love and Reason were Incompatible, there is -no Rule (said she) my Lord, without Exception, they are indeed sometimes -united, but how often they are at Variance, where may we not find Proofs, -History is full of them, and daily Examples of the many Hair-brain’d -Matches, and slips, much less excusable, sufficiently evince how little -Reason has to do in the Affairs of Love, I mean (continu’d she, with a -very serious Air) that sort of Love, for there are two, which hurries -People on to an immediate Gratification of their Desires, tho’ never so -prejudicial to themselves, or the Person they pretend to Love. Pray Madam -(said the _Count_ a little nettled at this Discourse) what Love is that -which seems at least to Merit the Approbation of a Lady so extreamly -nice? It has many Branches (reply’d she) in the first Place that which we -owe to Heaven, in the next to our King, our Country, Parents, Kindred, -Friends, and Lastly, that which Fancy inclines, and Reason guides us to, -in a Partner for Life, but here every Circumstance must agree, Parity -of Age, of Quality, of Fortune, and of Humour, Consent of Friends, and -Equal Affection in each other, for if any one of these particulars fail, -it renders all the rest of no Effect. Ah, Madam (cry’d the _Count_ not -able to suffer her to proceed). What share of Pity then can you afford to -a Man who, loves where almost all these Circumstances are wanting, and -what Advice wou’d you give a wretch so Curst? I wou’d have him _think_, -(said she more Gravely than before) How Madam, (resum’d he) think did -you say? Alas! ’Tis Thought that has undone him, that’s very possible -(answer’d she) but yet ’tis want of thinking justly, for in a Lovers Mind -Illusions seem Realities, and what at an other time wou’d be look’d on -as Impossible, appears easie then: They indulge, and feed their new-born -Folly with a prospect of a Hope, tho’ ne’re so distant a one, and in the -vain pursuit of it, fly Consideration, ’till dispair starts up in the -midway, and bar’s their promis’d View; whereas if they gave way to due -Reflection, the Vanity of the Attempt wou’d presently be shown, and the -same cause that bid ’em cease to hope, wou’d bid ’em cease to wish: Ah -Madam (said he) how little do you know of that Passion, and how easily -cou’d I disprove you by the Example of my Friend; despair and Love are -of an equal Age in him, and from the first Moment he beheld his Adorable -Charmer, he has Languished without the least mixture of a flattering -Hope. I Grant the Flames with which our Modern Gallants are ordinarily -animated, cannot long subsist without Fewel, but where Love is kindled -in a Generous Heart by a just Admiration of the real Merits of the Object -belov’d, Reason goes Hand in Hand with it, and makes it lasting as our -Life. In my Mind (answer’d MELLIORA Coldly) an Esteem so Grounded may -more properly be ascribed to Friendship, then be it so Madam, (rejoyn’d -the _Count_ briskly) Friendship and Love, where either are sincere, vary -but little in their meaning, there may indeed be some Distinctions in -their Ceremonies, but their Essentials are still the same: And if the -Gentleman I speak of were so happy as to hope his Friendship wou’d be -acceptable, I dare promise that he never wou’d complain his Love were -not so. You have a strange way (said she) to Confound Idea’s, which in -my Opinion are so vastly different, that I shou’d make no Difficulty in -granting my Friendship to as many of my Acquaintance, as had Merit to -deserve it; but if I were to Love in that general Manner, ’twould be a -Crime wou’d justly render me Contemptible to Mankind: Madam (replyed the -_Count_) when I spoke of the Congruity of Love and Friendship, I did -not mean that sort, which to me, seems unworthy of the Name of either, -but that Exalted one, which made _Orestes_ and _Pilades_, _Theseus_ and -_Perithous_ so Famous. That, which has no Reserve, no separate Interest, -or divided Thoughts, That which fills all,----gives all the Soul, and -esteems even Life a Trifle, to prove it self sincere----What can Love -do more than yield every thing to the object Belov’d? And Friendship -must do so too, or it is not Friendship! Therefore take heed fair -Angel (continu’d he, taking her Hand, and kissing it) how you Promise -Friendship, where you ne’re mean to Love: And observing she was Silent, -your Hand, (said he) your Lip, your Neck, your Breast, your All.----All -this whole Heaven of Beauty must be no longer in your own Disposal----All -is the Prize of Friendship! As much Confus’d as MELLIORA was, at these -Words, which gave her sufficient Reason to fear he wou’d now declare -himself more fully than she desir’d; she had Spirit and Resolution -enough to withdraw her Hand from his, and with a look, that spoke her -Meaning but too plainly for the repose of the Enamour’d D’ELMONT: I shall -take care my Lord (said she) how I Commence a Friendship with any Person -who shall make use of it to my Prejudice. - -The _Count_ was now sensible of his Error in going so far, and fearing he -had undone himself in her Esteem by his rash Proceeding, thought it was -best at once to throw off a Disguise which, in spight of his Endeavours -wou’d fall off, of itself, and by making a bold and free Confession of -his real Sentiments, oblige her to a Discovery of hers.----I do not -doubt your Caution, Madam, (answer’d he) in this point: Your Reserved -Behaviour, even to me, convinces me, but too fully, how little you are -disposed to give, or receive any Proofs of Friendship: But perhaps -(continu’d he, with a deep sigh) my too presuming Eyes have rendred me a -suspected Person, and while you find in me the Wretch I have discrib’d, -you find nothing in me worthy of a happier Fortune; you are worthy every -thing my Lord, (said MELLIORA quite beside her self at these Words) nor -are you less happy than you deserve to be, and I wou’d rather that these -Eyes shou’d loose their sight than view you otherwise than now I see -you, blest in every Circumstance, the Darling of the World, the Idol of -the Court, and Favourite of Heaven! Oh stop! (Cry’d D’ELMONT hastily -Interrupting her) forbear to Curse me farther, rather Command my Death, -than wish the Continuance of my present Miseries. Cruel MELLIORA too -well, alas, you know what I have endur’d from the first fatal Moment I -beheld you, and only feign an Ignorance to distract me more: A Thousand -times you have read my Rising wishes, sparkling in my Eyes, and glowing -on my Cheeks, as often seen my Virtue struggling in silent Tremblings, -and Life-wasting Anguish to suppress desire. Nay, Madam (said he -Catching fast hold of both her Hands, seeing her about to rise) by all -my sleepless Nights, and restless Days, by all my countless burning -Agonies; by all the Torments of my gall’d, bleeding Heart, I swear, -that you shall hear me: I have heard too much (cry’d MELLIORA not able -to contain her self) and tho’ I am unwilling to believe you have any -farther aim in this Discourse than your Diversion, yet I must tell your -Lordship, that there are Themes more proper for it, than the Daughter -of your Friend, who was entrusted to your Care with a far different -Opinion of your Behaviour to her. What have I done (resum’d the almost -the Distracted _Count_, falling at her Feet, and grasping her Knees) what -have I done, Inhuman MELLIORA! To deserve this Rigour? My Honour has -hitherto prevail’d above desire, fierce, and raging as it is, nor had I -any other hopes by making this Declaration, than to meet that pity my -Misfortunes merit; and you cannot without Ingratitude deny: Pity, even -to Criminals is allow’d, and sure, where the offence is unvoluntary, -like mine, ’tis due: ’Tis impossible to guess the Conflict in MELLIORA’S -Breast at this Instant, she had heard a most Passionate Declaration of -Love from a married Man, and by Consequence, whatever his Pretences were, -cou’d look on his Designs no otherwise than aim’d at the Destruction -of her Honour, and was fir’d with a virtuous Indignation. But then she -saw in this married Man, the only Person in the World, who was capable -of Inspiring her with a tender Thought, she saw him reduc’d to the last -Extremity of Despair for her sake: She heard his sighs, she felt his -Tremblings as he held her, and cou’d not refrain shedding some Tears, -both for him, and for her self, who indeed suffer’d little less; but -the _Count_ was not so happy as to be Witness of this Testimony of her -Compassion: He had reclin’d his Head on her Lap, possibly to hide those -that forc’d their way thro’ his Eyes, at the same time; and ALOVISA’S -Voice which they heard below, giving them both an Alarm; they had no -further opportunity for Speech, and the _Count_ was but just gone out of -the Room, and MELLIORA laid on the Couch in the same careless Possture -which he had found her in; when ALOVISA enter’d the Chamber, and after -having a little pleasantly Reproach’d her, for being so lazy as not to -accompany her in the Walk she had been taking, ask’d her if she had not -seen the _Count_, who she had been told was come home: Poor MELLIORA -had much ado to conceal the Disorder she was in at this Question, but -recovering her self as well as she could, answer’d in the Affirmative; -but that he had not staid there longer than to enquire where she was -gone, and that she knew not but he might be gone in search of her: This -was enough to make ALOVISA take her leave, impatient for the Sight of her -dear Lord, a Happiness she had not enjoy’d since Morning, but she was -disappointed of her Hope. The _Count_, as late as it was in the Evening, -went into his Chaise, which had not been set up since he came from the -_Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S and drove thither again with all the Speed he could. - -The _Baron_ was extreamly surpriz’d at his sudden Return, and with so -much Confusion and Melancholy in his Countenance. But much more so, when -he had given him an Account of what had pass’d between him and MELLIORA -and cou’d not forbear rallying him excessively on the Occasion. What, -said he, a Man of Wit, and Pleasure like _Count_ D’ELMONT a Man, who -knows the Sex so well, could he let slip so favourable an Opportunity -with the finest Woman in the World; One, for whose Enjoyment he wou’d -Die.----Cou’d a Frown, or a little angry Coyness, (which ten to one was -but affected) have Power to freeze such fierce Desires. The _Count_ was -not at present in a Humour to relish this Merriment, he was too seriously -in Love to bear that any thing relating to it, should be turn’d into -Ridicule, and was far from repenting he had done no more, since what -he had done, had occasion’d her Displeasure: But the _Baron_, who had -Designs in his Head, which he knew cou’d not by any means be brought -to succeed, but by keeping the _Count’s_ Passion warm, made Use of all -the Artifice he was Master of, to embolden this respective Lover, to -the Gratification of his Wishes: And growing more grave than he had -been, My Lord, said he, you do not only injure the Dignity of our Sex in -general, but your own Merits in particular, and perhaps even MELLIORA’S -secret Inclinations, by this unavailing distant Carriage: and causeless -Despair.----Have you not confess’d that she has look’d on you with a -Tenderness, like that of Love, that she has blush’d at your Sight, and -trembled at your Touch?----What would you more that she should do, or -what indeed, can she do more, in Modesty, to prove her Heart is yours? -A little Resolution on your side would make her all yours----Women are -taught by Custom to deny what most they covet, and to seem Angry, when -they are best Pleas’d; believe me, D’ELMONT, that the most rigid Virtue -of ’em all, never yet hated a Man for those Faults, which Love occasions: -All this answer’d the _Count_, is what I readily agree to:---But O her -Father’s Memory! My Obligation to him! Her Youth and Innocence are -Daggers to my cool Reflections---Wou’d it not be Pity (_D’espernay!_ -continued he with a deep Sigh) even if she shou’d consent, to ruin so -much Sweetness? The _Baron_ could not forbear laughing at these Words, -and the _Count_ who had started these Objections, only with the Hope of -having them remov’d, easily suffer’d himself to be perswaded to follow -his Inclinations; and it was soon concluded betwixt them, that on the -first Opportunity, MELLIORA should fall a Sacrifice to Love. - -The _Count_ came not Home ’till the next Morning, and brought the _Baron_ -with him, for they were now become inseparable Friends: At his return, he -found ALOVISA in a very ill Humour for his being abroad all Night, and -in spite of the Resolution she had made of shewing a perfect Resignation -to her Husband’s Will, could not forbear giving him some Hints, how -unkindly she took it, which he but little regarded, all his Thoughts -were now bent on the gaining MELLIORA. But that Lady alarm’d at his late -Behaviour, and with Reason, doubting her own Power of resenting it as she -ought, or indeed resisting any future Attempts he might make, feign’d the -necessity of performing some private Rules of Devotion, enjoyn’d her as a -Pennance, and kept her Chamber that she might not see him. - -The Disquietudes of D’ELMONT for being forc’d to live, but for three -or four Days without the happiness of beholding her, convinc’d him how -impossible it was for him to overcome his Passion, tho’ he should never -so vigorously endeavour it, and that whatever Method he shou’d make use -of to satisfy it, might be excus’d by the Necessity. - -What is it that a Lover cannot accomplish when Resolution is on his Side? -D’ELMONT after having formed a Thousand fruitless Inventions, at last -pitch’d on One, which promis’d him an assurance of Success: In MELLIORA’S -Chamber there was a little Door that open’d to a Pair of Back Stairs, -for the Convenience of the Servants coming to clean the Room, and at the -Bottom of that Descent, a Gate into the Garden. The _Count_ set his Wits -to work, to get the Keys of those two Doors; that of the Garden stood -always in it, nor cou’d he keep it without its being miss’d at Night, -when they shou’d come to fasten the Gate, therefore he carefully took -the Impression in Wax, and had one made exactly like it: The other he -cou’d by no means compass without making some excuse to go to MELLIORA’S -Chamber, and she had desired that none might visit her: But he overcome -this Bar to his Design at last; there was a Cabinet in it, where he told -ALOVISA he had put some Papers of great Concern, which now he wanted to -look over, and desired she would make an Apology for his coming in, to -fetch them. MELLIORA imagin’d this was only a Pretence to see her, but -his Wife being with him, and he saying nothing to her, or taking any -further notice than what common Civility required, was not much troubled -at it. While ALOVISA was paying a Complement to the Recluse, he was -dext’rous enough to slip the Key out of the Door, unperceiv’d by either -of them. - -As soon as he had got the Passport to his expected Joys in his -Possession, he order’d a couple of Saddle Horses to be made ready, and -only attended by one Servant, rid out, as if to take the Air; but when -they were got about two or three Miles from his House, Commanded him to -return and tell his Lady, that he should lye that Night at the _Baron_ -D’ESPERNAY’S, the Fellow obey’d, and clapping Spurs to his Horse, was -immediately lost in a Cloud of Dust. - -D’ELMONT had sent this Message to prevent any of the Family sitting -up expecting him, and instead of going to the _Barons_, turn’d short, -and went to _Angerville_, where meeting with some Gentlemen of his -Acquaintance, he pass’d the Hours ’till between Twelve and One, as -pleasantly as his Impatience to be with MELLIORA would give him leave: -He had not much above a Furlong to ride, and his Desires made him not -spare his Horse, which he ty’d by the Bridle, hot and foaming as he was, -to a huge Oak, which grew pretty near his Garden; it was incompass’d -only with a Hedge, and that so low, that he got over it without any -Difficulty; he look’d carefully about him, and found no Tell-tale Lights -in any of the Rooms, and concluding all was as hush’d as he cou’d wish, -open’d the first Door, but the encreasing Transports of his Soul, as he -came up Stairs, to be so near the end of all his Wishes, are more easily -imagin’d than express’d; but as violent as they were, they presently -receiv’d a vast Addition, when he came into the happy Chamber, and by a -most delightfull Gloom, a Friend to Lovers, (for it was neither Dark nor -Light), he beheld the lovely MELLIORA in her Bed, and fast asleep, her -Head was reclin’d on one of her Arms; a Pillow softer and whiter far than -that it lean’d on, the other was stretch’d out, and with its extension -had thrust down the Bed-cloths so far, that all the Beauties of her Neck -and Breast appear’d to View. He took an inexpressible Pleasure in gazing -on her as she lay, and in this silent Contemplation of her thousand -Charms, his Mind was agitated with various Emotions, and the resistless -Posture he beheld her in, rouz’d all that was honourable in him, he -thought it Pity even to wake her, but more to wrong such Innocence; and -he was sometimes prompted to return and leave her as he found her. - -But whatever Dominion, Honour and Virtue may have over our waking -Thoughts, ’tis certain that they fly from the clos’d Eyes, our Passions -then exert their forceful Power, and that which is most Predominant in -the Soul, agitates the Fancy, and brings even Things impossible to pass: -Desire, with watchful Diligence repell’d, returns with greater Violence -in unguarded Sleep, and overthrows the vain Efforts of Day. MELLIORA in -spite of her self, was often happy in Idea, and possess’d a Blessing -which Shame and Guilt deter’d her from in reality. Imagination at this -Time was active, and brought the charming Count much nearer than indeed -he was, and he, stooping to the Bed, and gently laying his Face close -to hers, (possibly designing no more than to steal a Kiss from her, -unperceiv’d) that Action concurring at that Instant with her Dream, made -her throw her Arm (still slumbering) about his Neck, and in a soft and -languishing Voice, cry out, O! D’ELMONT, cease, cease to Charm, to such a -height----Life cannot bear these Raptures!---And then again Embracing him -yet closer,---O! too, too lovely _Count_---Extatick Ruiner! - -Where was now the Resolution he was forming some Moments before? If he -had now left her, some might have applauded an Honour so uncommon, but -more wou’d have condemn’d his Stupidity, for I believe there are very -few Men, how Stoical soever they pretend to be, that in such a tempting -Circumstance would not have lost all Thoughts, but those, which the -present Opportunity inspir’d. That he did, is most certain, for he tore -open his Wastecoat, and joyn’d his panting Breast to hers, with such a -tumultuous Eagerness! Seiz’d her with such a rapidity of transported -Hope-crown’d Passion, as immediately wak’d her from an imaginary -Felicity, to the Approaches of a solid one. Where have I been (said she, -just opening her Eyes) where am I?---(And then coming more perfectly -to her self) Heaven! What’s this?--I am D’ELMONT (cry’d the o’erjoy’d -_Count_) the happy D’ELMONT! MELLIORA’S, the charming MELLIORA’S -D’ELMONT! Oh, all ye Saints, (resum’d the surpriz’d, trembling Fair) ye -ministring Angels! Whose Business it is to guard the Innocent! Protect -and shield my Virtue! O! say, how came you here, my Lord? Love, said -he, Love that does all, that Wonder-working Power has sent me here, to -charm thee, sweet Resister, into yielding. O! hold, (cry’d she, finding -he was proceeding to Liberties, which her Modesty could not allow of) -forbear, I do conjure you, even by that Love you plead, before my Honour -I’ll resign my Life! Therefore, unless you wish to see me dead, a Victim -to your cruel, fatal Passion, I beg you to desist, and leave me:---I -cannot---must not (answer’d he, growing still more bold) what, when I -have thee thus! Thus naked in my Arms, trembling, defenceless, yielding, -panting with equal Wishes, thy Love confess’d, and every Thought, Desire! -What could’st thou think if I should leave thee? How justly would’st -thou scorn my easy Tameness; my Dulness, unworthy the Name of Lover, or -even of Man!--Come, come, no more Reluctance (continued he, gathering -Kisses from her soft Snowy Breast at every Word) Damp not the Fires thou -hast rais’d with seeming Coyness! I know thou art mine! All mine! And -thus I--yet think (said she, interrupting him, and struggling in his -Arms) think what ’tis that you wou’d do; nor, for a Moment’s Joy, hazard -your Peace for ever. By Heaven, cry’d he, I will this Night be Master of -my Wishes, no matter what to Morrow may bring forth: As soon as he had -spoke these Words, he put it out of her Power either to deny or reproach -him, by stopping her Mouth with Kisses, and was just on the Point of -making good what he had vow’d, when a loud knocking at the Chamber Door, -put a stop to his beginning Extacy, and chang’d the sweet Confusion -MELLIORA had been in, to all the Horrors, of a Shame and Guilt-distracted -Apprehension: They made no Doubt but that it was ALOVISA, and that they -were betray’d; the _Count’s_ greatest Concern was for MELLIORA, and the -Knocking still continuing louder, all he cou’d do in this Exigence, -was to make his Escape the Way he came: There was no time for taking -leave, and he could only say, perceiving she was ready to faint with -her Fears-----Be comforted my Angel, and resolute in your Denials, to -whatever Questions the natural Insolence of a Jealous Wife may provoke -mine to ask you; and we shall meet again (if D’ELMONT survives this -Disappointment) without Danger, of so quick, so curst a Separation. -MELLIORA was in too much Distraction to make any Answer to what he said, -and he had left the Room some Moments, before she cou’d get Spirit enough -to ask who was at the Door? But when she did, was as much surpriz’d -to find it was MELANTHA, who desir’d to be let in, as before she was -frighted at the Belief it was ALOVISA, however, she immediately slipt on -her Night-Gown and Slippers, and open’d the Door. - -You are a sound Sleeper indeed (Cry’d MELANTHA laughing) that all the -Noise I have made cou’d not wake you. I have not been all this time -asleep (answer’d MELLIORA) but not knowing you were in the House, cou’d -not imagine who it was that gave me this Disturbance. I heartily ask your -Pardon (said MELANTHA) and I know, my Dear, you are too good Natur’d to -refuse it me, especially when you know the Occasion, which is so very -Whimsical, that as grave as you are, you cannot help being diverted with -it----But come (continu’d she) get on your Cloaths, for you must go -along with me. Where, said MELLIORA, Nay, nay, ask no Questions (resum’d -MELANTHA) but make haste, every Minute that we Idle away here, loses us -the Diversion of an Age. As she spoke these Words, she fell into such an -excessive Laughter, that MELLIORA thought her Mad, but being far from -Sympathizing in her Gaiety; it has always (said she) been hitherto my -Custom to have some Reason for what I do, tho’ in never so trifling an -Affair, and you must excuse me, if I do not break it now. Pish (cry’d -MELANTHA) you are of the oddest Temper,----but I will give you your Way -for once,-----provided you’ll get your self ready in the mean time. I -shall certainly put on my Cloaths (said MELLIORA) lest I should take -cold, for I expect you’ll not permit me to sleep any more this Night. -You may be sure of it (rejoyn’d MELANTHA.) But to the Purpose,-----You -must know, having an Hour or two on my hands, I came this Evening to -visit ALOVYSA, and found her in the strangest Humour!----Good God! What -unaccountable Creatures these married Women are?----her Husband it seems -had sent her Word that he wou’d lye at my Brothers, and the poor loving -Soul cou’d not bear to live a Night without him. I stay’d to condole -with her, (tho’ on my Life, I cou’d scarce forbear Laughing in her Face) -’till it was too late to go Home.----About twelve a Clock she yawn’d, -stretch’d, and grew most horridly out of Temper; rail’d at Mankind -prodigiously, and curs’d Matrimony as heartily as one of Fourscore cou’d -do, that had been twice a Widow, and was left a Maid!----With much -ado, I made her Women thrust her into Bed, and retired to a Chamber -which they shew’d me, but I had no Inclination to sleep, I remember’d -my self of five or six _Billet-Doux_ I had to answer,----a Lover, that -growing foolishly troublesome, I have some thoughts of discharging to -Morrow----Another that I design to Countenance, to pique a third----a new -Suit of Cloaths, and Trimmings for the next Ball----Half a hundred new -Songs---and---a thousand other Affairs of the utmost Consequence to a -young Lady, came into my Head in a Moment; and the Night being extreamly -pleasant, I set the Candle in the Chimney, open’d the Window, and fell -to considering---But I had not been able to come to a conclusion what I -should do in any one thing I was thinking of, before I was interrupted -in my Cogitations, with a noise of something rushing hastily thro’ the -Myrtles under my Window, and presently after, saw it was a Man going -hastily along toward the great Alley of the Garden.----At first I was -going to cry out and Alarm the Family, taking it for a Thief; But, -Dear MELLIORA, how glad am I that I did not?----For who do you think, -when I look’d more heedfully, I perceiv’d it was? Nay, how should I -know? (cry’d MELLIORA peevishly, fearing the _Count’s_ Inadvertency -had expos’d himself and her to this foolish Woman’s Curiosity) It was -_Count_ D’ELMONT (resum’d MELANTHA) I’ll lay my Life, that he has been -on some Intreague to Night: And met with a Disappointment in it, by his -quick Return.---But prithee make hast, for I long to rally him about -it. What wou’d you do Madam? (said MELLIORA) you wou’d not sure go to -him? Yes, (answer’d MELANTHA): I will go down into the Garden, and so -shall you.---I know you have a back Way from your Chamber---Therefore -lay aside this unbecoming Demureness, and let us go, and talk him to -Death. You may do as you please, (said MELLIORA) but for my part, I am -for no such Frolicks. Was ever any thing so young, so Formal as you are! -(Rejoyn’d MELANTHA) but I am resolv’d to Teaze you out of a humour so -directly opposite to the _Beau-Monde_, and, if you will not Consent to go -down with me: I will fetch him up to your Chamber----Hold! Hold, (cry’d -MELLIORA perceiving she was going) what do you mean, for Heavens sake -stay, what will ALOVYSA think?---I care not, reply’d the other; I have -set my Heart on an hours Diversion with him and will not be baulk’d, -if the repose of the World, much less, that of a Jealous, silly Wife, -depended on it. - -MELLIORA saw into the Temper of this Capricious young Lady too well not -to believe she wou’d do, as she had said, and perhaps, was not over -willing to venture her with the _Count_ alone, at that Time of Night, -and in the Humour she knew he was, therefore putting on an Air more -chearful than that she was Accustom’d to wear, well (said she) I will -Accompany you into the Garden, since it will so much oblige you; but if -the _Count_ be wise, he will, by quitting the Place, as soon as he sees -us, disappoint you worse than I shou’d have done, if I had kept you here. -With these Words she took her by the Hand, and they went down the Stairs, -where the _Count_ was but just past before them. - -He had not Power to go away, without knowing who it was, that had given -him that Interruption, and had stood all this Time, on the upper Step -behind the inner Door. His Vexation, and Disdain when he heard it was -MELANTHA gave him as much Pain, as his Concern while he believ’d it -ALOVYSA, and he cou’d not forbear muttering a thousand Curses on her -Impertinence. He always despis’d, but now abhor’d her: She had behav’d -her self to him in a Fashion, as made him sufficiently Sensible she was -desirous of engaging him, and he resolv’d to Mortifie by the bitterest -Slights, both her Pride, and Love, if ’tis proper, to call that sort of -liking which Agitates the Soul of _Coquet_, by that Name. - -The Ladies walk’d in the Garden for some time, and MELANTHA search’d -every Bush, before she found the _Count_ who stood Conceal’d in the -Porch, which being cover’d with _Jessamin_, and _Fillaree_, was Dark -enough to hide him from their View, tho’ they had pass’d close to him -as they came out. He had certainly remain’d there ’till Morning, and -disappointed MELANTHA’S search in part of the Revenge he ow’d her, if his -Desires to be with MELLIORA, on any Terms, had not prevail’d, even above -his Anger to the other. But he cou’d not see that Charmer of his Soul, -and imagine there might be yet an opportunity that Night of stealing a -Kiss from her (now he believ’d resistless Lips) of Touching her Hand! -Her Breast! And repeating some farther Freedoms which his late Advantage -over her had given him, without being fill’d with Wishes too Fiery and -too Impatient to be restrain’d. He watch’d their turning, and when he saw -that they were near an Ally which had another that led to it, he went -round and met them. - -MELANTHA was overjoy’d at sight of him, and MELLIORA, tho’ equally -pleas’d, was Cover’d with such a Confusion, at the Remembrance of what -had pass’d, that it was happy for her that her Companion’s Volubility -gave her no room for Speech. There is nothing more certain, than that -Love, tho’ it fills the mind with a thousand charming Ideas, which those -untouch’d by that Passion, are not capable of conceiving, yet it entirely -takes away the Power of Utterance, and the deeper Impression it had -made on the Soul, the less we are able to express it, when willing to -indulge and give a loose to Thought; what Language can furnish us with -Words sufficient, all are too poor, all wanting both in Sublimity, and -Softness, and only Fancy! A lovers Fancy! can reach the Exalted soaring -of a Lovers Meaning! But, if so impossible to be Describ’d, if of so -Vast, so Wonderful a Nature as nothing but it’s self can Comprehend, how -much more impossible must it be, entirely to conceal it! What Strength of -boasted Reasons? What Force of Resolution? What modest Fears, or cunning -Artifice can correct the Fierceness of its fiery Flashes in the Eyes, -keep down the struggling Sighs, command the Pulse, and bid trembling -cease? Honour and Virtue may distance Bodies, but there is no Power -in either of those Names, to stop the Spring, that with a rapid Whirl -transports us from our selves, and darts our Souls into the Bosom of the -darling Object. This may seem strange to many, even of those who call, -and perhaps believe that they are Lovers, but the few who have Delicacy -enough to feel what I but imperfectly attempt to speak, will acknowledge -it for Truth, and pity the Distress of MELLIORA. - -As they were passing thro’ a Walk of Trees on each Side, whose -intermingling Boughs made a friendly Darkness, and every thing -Undistinguishable, the Amorous D’ELMONT throwing his eager Arms round the -Waist of his (no less transported) MELLIORA, and Printing burning Kisses -on her Neck, reap’d painful Pleasure, and created in her a racking kind -of Extasie, which might perhaps, had they been now alone, prov’d her -Desires were little different from his. - -After MELANTHA had vented part of the Raillery, she was so big with, on -the _Count_, which he but little regarded, being wholly taken up with -other Thoughts, she propos’d, going into the Wilderness, which was at -the farther end of the Garden, and they readily agreeing to it. Come, my -Lord, (said she) to the _Count_, you are Melancholly, I have thought of a -way which will either indulge the Humour you are in, or divert it, as you -shall chuse: There are several little Paths in this Wilderness, let us -take each a separate one, and when we meet, which shall be here, where we -part, agree to tell an entertaining Story, which, whoever fails in, shall -be doom’d to the Punishment of being left here all Night: The _Count_ -at these Words, forgot all his Animosity, and was ready to hug her for -this Proposal. MELLIORA did a little oppose it; but the others were too -Powerful, and she was forc’d to submit: Thou art the dullest Creature, -I’ll lay my Life, (my Lord, cry’d MELANTHA, taking hold of the Count in a -gay manner) that it falls to her Lot to stay in the Wilderness. Oh Madam, -(reply’d the _Count_) you are too severe, we ought always to suspend our -Judgment ’till after the Tryal, which I confess my self so pleas’d with, -that I am Impatient for its coming on: Well then, (said she, laughing) -farewel for half an Hour. Agreed (cry’d the _Count_) and walk’d away: -MELANTHA saw which way he went, and took another Path, leaving MELLIORA -to go forward in that, in which they were, but I believe the Reader will -easily imagine that she was not long to enjoy the Priviledge of her -Meditations. - -After the _Count_ had gone some few Paces, he planted himself behind -a Thicket, which, while it hid him, gave the Opportunity of observing -them, and when he found the Coast clear, rush’d out, and with unhurting -Gripe, seiz’d once more on the unguarded Prey. Blest turn of Fortune, -(said he in a Rapture,) Happy, happy Moment!---Lost, lost MELLIORA, (said -she) most unhappy Maid!---Oh why, my Lord, this quick Return? This is no -Place to answer thee, (resum’d he, taking her in his Arms, and bearing -her behind that Thicket, where he himself had stood) ’twas in vain for -her to resist, if she had had the Power over her Inclinations, ’till he, -sitting her softly down, and beginning to Caress her in the manner he -had done when she was in Bed, she assum’d Strength enough to raise her -self a little, and catching hold of his Transgressing Hands, laid her -Face on them, and Bath’d them in a shower of Tears: O! D’ELMONT (said -she) Cruel D’ELMONT! Will you then take Advantage of my Weakness? I -confess I feel for you, a Passion, far beyond all, that yet, ever bore -the Name of Love, and that I can no longer withstand the too powerful -Magick of your Eyes, nor deny any Thing that charming Tongue can ask; but -now’s the Time to prove your self the Heroe! subdue your self, as you -have Conquer’d me! be satisfied with Vanquishing my Soul, fix there your -Throne, but leave my Honour free! Life of my Life (cry’d he) wound me no -more by such untimely Sorrows: I cannot bear thy Tears, by Heaven they -sink into my Soul, and quite unman me, but tell me (continu’d he tenderly -Kissing her) coud’st thou, with all this Love, this charming----something -more than softness-----cou’dst thou I say, consent to see me Pale and -Dead, stretch’d at thy Feet, consum’d with inward Burnings, rather than -blest, than rais’d by Love, and thee, to all a Deity in thy Embraces? -For O! Believe me when I swear, that ’tis impossible to live without -thee. No more, no more (said she letting her Head fall gently on his -Breast) too easily I guess thy sufferings by my own. But yet, D’ELMONT -’tis better to die in Innocence, than to live in Guilt. O! Why (Resum’d -he, sighing as if his Heart wou’d burst) shou’d what we can’t avoid, -be call’d a Crime? Be Witness for me Heaven! How much I have struggl’d -with this rising Passion, even to Madness struggl’d!---but in vain, the -mounting Flame blazes the more, the more I wou’d suppress it---my very -Soul’s on Fire---I cannot bear it---Oh MELLIORA! Didst thou but know the -thousandth Part, of what this Moment I endure, the strong Convulsions of -my warring Thoughts, thy Heart steel’d as it is, and Frosted round with -Virtue, wou’d burst it’s icy Shield, and melt in Tears of Blood, to pity -me. Unkind and Cruel! (answer’d she) do I not partake them then?----Do -I not bear, at least, an equal share in all your Agonies? Have---you -no Charms---or have not I a Heart?---A most susceptible and tender -Heart?----Yes, you may feel it Throb, it beats against my Breast, like -an Imprison’d Bird, and fain wou’d burst it’s Cage! to fly to you, the -aim of all it’s Wishes!--Oh D’ELMONT!--With these Words she sunk wholly -into his Arms unable to speak more: Nor was he less dissolv’d in Rapture, -both their Souls seem’d to take Wing together, and left their Bodies -Motionless, as unworthy to bear a part in their more elevated Bliss. - -But D’ELMONT at his returning Sense, repenting the Effects of the violent -Transport, he had been in was now, preparing to take from the resistless -MELLIORA, the last, and only remaining Proof that she was all his own, -when MELANTHA (who had contriv’d this separation only with a Design to be -alone with the _Count_, and had carefully observ’d which way he took) was -coming towards them. The rustling of her Cloaths among the Bushes, gave -the disappointed Couple leave to rise from the Posture they were in, and -MELLIORA to abscond behind a Tree, before she could come near enough to -discern who was there. - -MELANTHA, as soon as she saw the _Count_, put on an Air, of Surprize, as -if it were but by Chance, that she was come into his walk, and Laughing -with a visible Affectation, bless me! You here, my Lord! (said she) I vow -this has the look of Assignation, but I hope you will not be so vain as -to believe I came on purpose to seek you. No Madam (answer’d he coldly) -I have not the least Thought of being so happy. Lord! You are strangely -grave (Rejoyn’d she) but suppose I really had come with a Design to meet -you, what kind of Reception might I have expected? I know no Reason Madam -(said he) that can oblige me to entertain a Supposition so unlikely. -Well then (resum’d she) I’ll put it past a Supposition, and tell you -plainly, that I did walk this way on purpose to divert your Spleen. I -am sorry (reply’d he, tir’d to Death with her Impertinence) that you -are disappointed; for I am not in a Humour at present, of receiving -any Diversion. Fie (said she) is this an answer for the gay, Gallant, -engaging _Count_ D’ELMONT, to give a Lady who makes a Declaration of -admiring him----who thinks it not too much to make the first Advances, -and who wou’d believe her self fully recompenc’d for breaking thro’ the -nice Decorums of her Sex, if he receiv’d it kindly---Madam (said he, not -a little amaz’d at her Imprudence) I know of no such Person, or if I did, -I must confess, shou’d be very much puzled how to behave in an Adventure -so uncommon: Pish (answer’d she, growing vext at his coldness) I know -that such Adventures are not uncommon with you: I’m not to learn the -Story of ALOVYSA, and if you had not been first Address’d, perhaps might -have been ’till now unmarried. Well Madam (said he, more out of humour) -put the Case that what you say were true, I am married; and therefore, -(interrupted she) you ought to be better acquainted with the Temper of -our Sex, and know, that a Woman, where she says she Loves, expects a -thousand fine things in Return. But there is more than a possibility -(answer’d he) of her being disappointed, and methinks Madam, a Lady of -your Gaity shou’d be conversant enough with Poetry, to remember those too -Lines of a famous English Poet. - - _All naturally fly, what does Pursue_ - _’Tis fit Men shou’d be Coy, when Women Woe._ - -MELANTHA was fretted to the Heart to find him so insensible, but not -being one of those who are apt to repent any thing they have done, she -only pretended to fall into a violent fit of Laughter, and when she came -out of it, I confess (said she) that I have lost my Aim, which was, to -make you believe I was dying for Love of you, raise you to the highest -Degree of Expectation, and then have the pleasure of baulking you at -once, by letting you know the jest.----But your Lordship is too hard for -me, even at my own Weapon, ridicule! I am mightly obliged to you Madam -(answer’d he, more briskly than before) for your Intention, however; but -’tis probable, if I cou’d have been drawn into a Belief that you were in -earnest, I might, at such a Time, and such a Place as this, have taken -some Measures which wou’d have sufficiently reveng’d me on you----but -come Madam, (continu’d he) the Morning begins to break, if you please we -will find out MELLIORA, and go into the House: As he spoke these Words, -they perceiv’d her coming towards them, who had only taken a little round -to meet ’em, and they all three made what hast they cou’d in: _Count_ -D’ELMONT asked a formal leave of MELLIORA to go thro’ her Chamber, none -of the Servants being yet stirring, to let him into the House any other -way, which being granted, he cou’d not help sighing as he passed by -the Bed, where he had been lately so cruelly disappointed, but had no -opportunity to speak his Thoughts at that time to MELLIORA. - -The _Count_ rung for his Gentleman to rise to undress him, and order’d -him to send somebody to take care of his Horse, and went to Bed, -ALOVYSA was very much surpriz’d at his return from the _Baron_’s at so -unseasonable an Hour, but much more so, when in the Morning, MELANTHA -came laughing into the Chamber, and told her, all that she knew of the -Adventure of the Night before; her old fit of Jealousie now resum’d -it’s Dominion in her Soul, she cou’d not forbear thinking, that there -was something more in it, than MELANTHA had discover’d: And presently -imagin’d that her Husband stay’d not at the _Baron_’s, because she -was abroad; but she was more confirm’d in this Opinion, when MELANTHA -calling for her Coach to go home; the _Count_ told her that he wou’d -accompany her thither, having urgent Business with her Brother. ’Tis -almost impossible to guess the rage ALOVYSA was in, but she dissembled -it ’till they were gone, then going to MELLIORA’s Chamber, she vented -part of it there, and began to question her about their Behaviour in the -Wilderness. Tho’ MELLIORA was glad to find, since she was jealous, that -she was jealous of any Body rather than her self, yet she said all that -she cou’d, to perswade her, that she had no Reason to be uneasie. - -But ALOVYSA was always of too fiery a Nature to listen patiently to any -thing that cou’d be offer’d, to alter the Opinion she had taken up, tho’ -it were with never so little an appearance of Reason, but much more now, -when she thought her self, in a manner Confirm’d: Forbear (said she) -Dear MELLIORA to take the part of perfidy: I know he hates me, I read -it in his Eyes, and feel it on his Lips, all Day he shuns my Converse, -and at night, colder than Ice, receives my warm Embraces, and when, (oh -that I cou’d tear the tender folly from me Heart) with Words as soft -as Love can Form, I urge him to disclose the Cause of his Disquiet, he -answers but in sighs, and turns away: Perhaps (reply’d MELLIORA) his -Temper naturally is gloomy, and love it self, has scarce the Power to -alter Nature. Oh no, (Interrupted ALOVYSA) far from it: Had I ne’er -known him otherwise, I cou’d forgive what now I know, but he was once as -kind as tender Mothers to their new born Babes, and fond as the first -Wishes of desiring Youth: Oh! With what eagerness has he approach’d -me, when absent but an Hour!---Hadst thou ’ere seen him in those Days -of Joy, even, thou, cold Cloyster’d Maid, must have ador’d him What -Majesty, then sat upon his Brow?-----What Matchless Glories shone around -him!----Miriads of _Cupids_, shot resistless Darts in every Glance,---his -Voice when softned in amorous Accents, boasted more Musick, than the -Poet _Orpheus!_ When e’re he spoke, methought the Air seem’d Charm’d, -the Winds forgot to blow, all Nature listn’d, and like ALOVISA melted -into Transport----but he is chang’d in all----the Heroe, and the Lover -are Extinct, and all that’s left, of the once gay D’ELMONT, is a dull -senceless Picture: MELLIORA was too sensibly Touch’d with this Discourse, -to be able presently to make any Answer to it, and she cou’d not forbear -accompanying her in Tears, while ALOVYSA renew’d her Complaints in this -manner; his Heart (said she) his Heart is lost, for ever Ravish’d from -me, that Bosom where I had Treasur’d all my Joys, my Hopes, my Wishes, -now burns and pants, with longings for a rival Curst! Curst, MELANTHA, -by Heaven they are even impudent in Guilt, they Toy, they Kiss, and make -Assignations before my Face, and this Tyrant Husband braves me with his -falsehood, and thinks to awe me into Calmness, but, if I endure it---No -(continu’d she stamping, and walking about the Room in a disorder’d -Motion) I’ll be no longer the tame easie wretch I have been---all -_France_ shall Eccho with my Wrongs---The ungrateful Monster!---Villain, -whose well nigh wasted Stream of Wealth had dry’d, but for my kind of -supply, shall he enslave me!--Oh MELLIORA shun the Marriage Bed, as thou -woud’st a Serpents Den, more Ruinous, more Poysonous far, is Man. - -’Twas in vain that MELLIORA endeavour’d to pacifie her, she continu’d in -this Humour all Day, and in the Evening receiv’d a considerable Addition -to her former Disquiet: The _Count_ sent a Servant of the _Barons_ -(having not taken any of his own with him) to acquaint her, that he -shou’d not be at home that Night. ’Tis well (said she ready to burst with -Rage) let the _Count_ know that I can change as well as he, and shall -excuse his Absence tho’ it lasts to all Eternity, (go continu’d she, -seeing him surpriz’d) deliver this Message, and withal, assure him, that -what I say, I mean. She had scarce made an end of these Words, when she -flung out of the Room, unable to utter more, and lock’d her self into her -Chamber, leaving MELLIORA no less distracted, tho’ for different Reasons, -to retire to her’s. - -She had not ’till now, had a moments Time for reflection since her -Adventure in the Wilderness, and the Remembrance of it, joyn’d with the -Despair, and Grief of ALOVISA, which she knew her self the sole occasion -of, threw her into most terrible Agonies. She was ready to die with -shame, when she consider’d how much the secret of her Soul was laid open -to him, who of all the World she ought most to have conceal’d it from, -and with remorse, for the Miseries her fatal Beauty was like to bring on -a Family for whom she had the greatest Friendship. - -But these Thoughts soon gave way to another, equally as shocking, she was -present when the Servant brought Word the _Count_ wou’d lie abroad, and -had all the Reason imaginable to believe that Message was only a feint, -that he might have an opportunity to come unobserv’d to her Chamber, -as he had done the Night before. She cou’d not presently guess by what -means he had got in, and therefore was at a loss how to prevent him, -’till recollecting all the Circumstances of that tender interview, she -remembred that when MELANTHA had surpriz’d them, he made his escape by -the back Stairs into the Garden, and that when they went down, the Door -was lock’d: Therefore concluded it must be by a Key, that he had gain’d -admittance: And began to set her Invention to Work, how to keep this -dangerous Enemy to her Honour, from coming in a second Time. She had no -Keys that were large enough to fill the Wards, and if she had put one in, -on the inside, it wou’d have fallen out immediately on the least touch, -but at last, after trying several ways, she tore her Handkerchief into -small pieces, and thrust it into the hole with her Busk, so hard, that it -was impossible for any Key to enter. - -MELLIORA thought she had done a very Heroick Action, and sate her self -down on the Bed-side in a pleas’d Contemplation of the Conquest, she -believ’d her Virtue had gain’d over her Passion: But alas, How little did -she know the true State of her own Heart? She no sooner heard a little -noise at the Door, as presently after she did, but she thought it was the -_Count_, and began to tremble not with fear, but desire. - -It was indeed _Count_ D’ELMONT, who had borrow’d Horses and a Servant of -the _Baron_, and got into the Garden as before, but with a much greater -Assurance now of making himself entirely happy in the Gratification of -his utmost Wishes. But ’tis impossible to represent the greatness of -his vexation and surprize, when all his Efforts to open the Door, were -in vain: He found something had been done to the Lock, but cou’d not -discover what, nor by any means remove the obstacle which MELLIORA had -put there. She, on the other hand, was in all the confusion imaginable: -Sometimes prompted by the violence of her Passion, she wou’d run to the -Door, resolving to open it; and then, frighted with the apprehension of -what wou’d be the Consequence, as hastily fly from it: If he had stay’d -much longer, ’tis possible love wou’d have got the better of all other -Considerations, but a light appearing on the other side of the Garden, -oblig’d the thrice disappointed Lover, to quit his Post. He had sent -away the Horses by the Servant who came with him, and had no opportunity -of going to the _Barons_ that Night, so came to his own Fore-gate, and -thunder’d with a force, suitable to the fury he was possest with; it was -presently open’d, most of the Family being up. ALOVISA had rav’d her self -into Fits, and her disorder created full Employment for the Servants, -who busily running about the House with Candles fetching things for her, -occasion’d that reflection which he had seen. - -The _Count_ was told of his Lady’s Indisposition, but he thought he had -sufficient pretence not to come where she was, after the Message she had -sent him by the _Baron_’s Servant, and order’d a Bed to be made ready for -him in another Chamber. - -ALOVISA soon heard he was come in, and it was with much ado, that her -Women prevail’d on her not to rise and go to him that moment, so little -did she remember what she had said. She pass’d the Night in most terrible -Inquietudes, and early in the Morning went to his Chamber, but finding it -shut, she was oblig’d to wait, tho’ with a World of impatience, ’till she -heard he was stirring, which not being till towards Noon, she spent all -that Time in considering how she shou’d accost him. - -As soon as the Servant whom she had order’d to watch, brought her Word -that his Lord was dressing, she went into the Room, there was no body -with him but his Gentleman, and he withdrawing out of respect, imagining -by both their Countenances, there might something be said, not proper -for him to hear. I see (said she) my Presence is unwish’d, but I have -learn’d from you to scorn Constraint, and as you openly avow your -falshood, I shall my Indignation, and my just Disdain! Madam (answer’d -he suddenly) if you have any thing to reproach me with, you cou’d not -have chose a more unlucky Time for it, than this, nor was I ever less -dispos’d to give you Satisfaction. No, barbarous cold Insulter! (resum’d -she) I had not the least hope you wou’d, I find that I am grown so low -in your Esteem, I am not worth pains of an Invention.----By Heaven, this -damn’d indifference is worse than the most vile Abuse!---’Tis plain -Contempt!----O that I cou’d resent it as I ought----then Sword, or Poison -shou’d revenge me---why am I so Curst to Love you still?---O that those -Fiends (continu’d she, bursting into Tears) that have deform’d thy Soul, -wou’d change thy Person too, turn every Charm to horrid Blackness, grim -as thy Cruelty, and foul as thy Ingratitude, to free that Heart, thy -Perjury has ruin’d. I thought Madam (said he, with an Accent maliciously -Ironical) that you had thrown off, even the appearances of Love for me, -by the Message you sent me Yesterday---O thou Tormenter (interrupted -she) hast thou not wrong’d me in the tenderest Point, driven me to the -last Degree of Misery! To Madness!---To Despair? And dost thou----can’st -thou Reproach me for complaining?---Your coldness; your unkindness stung -me to the Soul, and then I said, I know not what---but I remember well, -that I wou’d have seem’d careless, and indifferent like you. You need -not (reply’d he) give your self the trouble of an Apology, I have no -design to make a quarrel of it: And wish, for both our Peace, you cou’d -as easily moderate your Passions, as I can mine, and that you may the -better do so, I leave you to reflect on what I have said, and the little -Reason I have ever given you for such intemperance. He left the Chamber -with these Words, which instead of quelling, more enflam’d ALOVYSA’s -Rage. She threw her self down into an Elbow Chair that stood there, and -gave a loose to the Tempest of her Soul, Sometimes she curst, and vow’d -the bitterest Revenge: Sometimes she wept, and at others, was resolv’d -to fly to Death, the only Remedy for neglected Love: In the midst of -these confus’d Meditations, casting her Eye on a Table by her, she saw -Paper, and something written on it, which hastily taking up, found it the -_Count_’s Character, and read (to her inexpressible Torment) these Lines. - - [Illustration] - - The Dispairing D’ELMONT to his Repenting Charmer. - - _What Cruel Star last Night, had Influence over my - Inhumane Dear? Say, to what Cause must I ascribe my Fatal - Disappointment? For I wou’d fain believe I owe it not to - Thee!----Such an Action, after what thou hast confest, I cou’d - expect from nothing but a Creature of_ MELANTHA’s _Temper---no, - ’tis too much of the vain Coquet, and indeed too much of the - Jilt, for my Adorable to be guilty of--and yet---Oh how shall I - excuse thee? when every thing was hush’d, Darkness my Friend, - and all my Wishes rais’d, when every Nerve trembled with fierce - Desires, and my Pulse beat a call to Love, or Death,----(For - if I not enjoy thee, that will soon arrive) then, then what, - but thy self, forgetting all thy Vows, thy tender Vows of the - most Ardent Passion, cou’d have destroyed my Hopes?---Oh where - was then that Love which lately flatter’d my fond doating Soul, - when sinking, dying in my Arms, my Charmer lay! And suffer’d - me to reap each Prologue favour to the greatest Bliss----But - they are past, and rigid Honour stands to Guard those joys, - which----_ - -There was no more written, but there needed no more to make ALOVYSA, -before half distracted, now quite so. She was now convinc’d that she had -a much more dangerous Rival than MELANTHA, and her Curiosity who it might -be, was not much less troublesome to her than other Passions. - -She was going to seek her Husband with this Testimony of his Infidelity -in her Hand, when he, remembring he had left it there, was coming hastily -back to fetch it. The Excess of Fury which she met him with, is hardly -to be imagin’d, she upbraided him in such a Fashion as might be called -reviling, and had so little regard to good Manners, or even decency in -what she said, that it dissipated all the confusion he was in at first, -to see so plain a Proof against him in her Hands, and rouz’d him to a -rage not much Inferior to her’s. She endeavour’d (tho’ she took a wrong -Method) to bring him to a Confession, he had done amiss; and he, to lay -the Tempest of her Tongue, by storming louder, but neither succeeded in -their wish: And he, stung with the bitterness of her Reproaches, and -tired with Clamour, at last flung from her with a solemn Vow never to -eat, or Sleep with her more. - -A Wife if equally haughty and jealous, if less fond than ALOVYSA will -scarce be able to comprehend the greatness of her Sufferings: And it is -not to be wonder’d at, that she, so violent in all her Passions, and -agitated by so many, at once, committed a thousand Extravagancies, which -those who know the force but of one, by the Aid of Reason, may avoid. -She tore down the _Count_’s Picture which hung in the Room, and stamp’d -on it, then the Letter, her own Cloaths, and Hair, and whoever had seen -her in that Posture, wou’d have thought she appear’d more like what the -Furies are represented to be, than a Woman. - -The _Count_ when he took leave the Night before of the _Baron_ -D’ESPERNAY, had promis’d to return to him in the Morning, and give him -an Account of his Adventure with MELLIORA, but the vexation of his -disappointment, and quarrel with his Wife, having hindred him all this -time, the _Baron_ came to his House, impatient to know the Success of an -Affair on which his own hopes depended. He was told by the Servants that -their Lord was above, and running hastily without Ceremony, the first -Person he saw was ALOVISA, in the condition I have describ’d. - -The _Baron_ had passionately lov’d this Lady from the first Moment he had -seen her, but it was with that sort of Love, which considers more it’s -own gratification, than the Interest, or quiet, of the object beloved. -He imagin’d by the Wildness of ALOVYSA’s Countenance and Behaviour, that -the _Count_ had given her some extraordinary occasion of distaste, and -was so far from being troubled at the Sorrow he beheld her in, that he -rejoyc’d in it, as the advancement of his Designs. But he wanted not -cunning to disguise his Sentiments, and approaching her with a tender, -and submissive Air, entreated her to tell him the Cause of her disorder. -ALOVYSA had always consider’d him as a Person of worth, and one who -was entitled to her Esteem by the vast respect he always paid her, and -the Admiration, which in every opportunity, he exprest for her Wit and -Beauty. She was not perhaps far from guessing the Extent of his Desires, -by some Looks, and private Glances he had given her, and, notwithstanding -her Passion, for the _Count_, was too vain to be offended at it. On the -contrary, it pleas’d her Pride, and confirm’d her in the good Opinion -she had of her self, to think a Man of his Sense shou’d be compell’d -by the force of her irresistible Attractions to adore and to despair, -and therefore made no Difficulty of disburthening all the anguish of her -Soul, in the Bosom of this, as she believ’d, so faithful Friend. - -The _Baron_ seem’d to receive this Declaration of her Wrongs, with all -imaginable concern: And accus’d the _Count_ of Stupidity in so little -knowing the value of a Jewel he was Master of, and gave her some hints, -that he was not unsensible who the Lady was, that had been the Cause of -it, which ALOVISA presently taking hold on, O speak her Name (said she) -quick, let me know her, or own thy Friendship was but feign’d to undo -me, and that thou hatest the wretched ALOVISA. O far (resum’d he) far be -such thoughts, first let me Die, to prove my Zeal---my Faith, sincere -to you, who only next to Heaven, are worthy Adoration---but forgive me, -if I say, in this, you must not be obey’d. O why, said she? Perhaps, -(answer’d he) I am a trusted Person---A confident, and if I should reveal -the secret of my Friend, I know, tho’ you approv’d the Treachery, you -wou’d detest the Traytor. O! Never (rejoyn’d she impatiently) ’twou’d -be a Service, more than the whole Study of my Life can pay----am I not -Rack’d,----Stab’d---and Mangled in Idea, by some dark Hand shaded with -Night and Ignorance? And shou’d I not be grateful for a friendly Clue -to guide me from this Labyrinth of Doubt, to a full Day of Certainty, -where all the fiend may stand expos’d before me, and I have Scope to -Execute my Vengeance? Besides, (continu’d she, finding he was silent and -seemingly extreamly mov’d at what she said) ’tis joyning in the Cause -of Guilt to hide her from me----come, you must tell me---your Honour -suffers else---both that, and pity, plead the Injur’d’s Cause. Alas (said -he) Honour can ne’er consent to a Discovery of what, with solemn Vows I -have promis’d to Conceal; but Oh!---There is something in my Soul, more -Powerful, which says, that ALOVYSA must not be deny’d. Why then (cry’d -she) do you delay? Why keep me on the Rack, when one short Word wou’d -ease me of my Torment? I have consider’d (answer’d he after a pause) -Madam, you shall be satisfied, depend on it you shall, tho’ not this -Moment, you shall have greater Proofs than Words can give you----Occular -Demonstration shall strike denial Dumb. What mean you? Interrupted she; -you shall behold (said he) the guilty pair, link’d in each others Arms. -Oh ESPERNAY (rejoyn’d she) coud’st thou do that?---’Tis easie (answer’d -he) as I can order Matters---but longer Conferrence may render me -suspected---I’ll go seek the _Count_, for he must be my Engine to betray -himself---In a Day or two, at farthest you shall enjoy all the Revenge -Detection can bestow. - -ALOVYSA wou’d fain have perswaded him to have told her the Name of her -Rival, in part of that full Conviction he had promis’d her, but in vain, -and she was oblig’d to leave the Issue of this Affair entirely to his -Management. - -The _Baron_ was extreamly pleas’d with the Progress he had made, and -did not doubt, but for the purchase of this secret he shou’d obtain -every thing he desired of ALOVYSA. He found _Count_ D’ELMONT full of -troubled and perplexed Thoughts, and when he had heard the History of -his disappointment: I am sorry to hear (said he) that the foolish Girl -does not know her own mind---but come (my Lord continued he, after -a little pause) do not suffer your self to sink beneath a Caprice, -which all those who converse much with that Sex must frequently meet -with---I have a Contrivance in my Head, that cannot fail to render all -her peevish Virtue frustrate: And make her happy in her own despite. Oh -ESPERNAY! (reply’d the _Count_) thou talkest as Friendship prompts thee, -I know thou wishest my Success, but alas! So many, and such unforeseen -Accidents have happen’d hitherto to prevent me, that I begin to think -the Hand of Fate has set me down for lost. For shame my Lord (Interrupted -the _Baron_) be not so poor in Spirit----Once more I tell you that she -shall be yours---a Day or two shall make her so---and because I know you -Lovers are unbelieving, and impatient----I will Communicate the Means. A -Ball, and Entertainment shall be provided at my House, to which, all the -Neighbouring People of Condition shall be invited, amongst the number, -your self, your Lady, and MELLIORA; it will be late before ’tis done, -and I must perswade your Family, and some others who live farthest off, -to Countenance the Design to stay all Night; all that you have to do, -is to keep up your Resentment to ALOVYSA, that you may have a pretence -to sleep from her: I shall take care to have MELLIORA plac’d where no -Impediment may bar your Entrance. Impossible Suggestion! (cry’d D’ELMONT -shaking his Head) ALOVYSA is in too much Rage of Temper to listen to -such an Invitation, and without her, we must not hope for MELLIORA. -How Industrious are you (resum’d the _Baron_) to create difficulties -where there is none: Tho’ I confess this may have, to you, a reasonable -Appearance of one. But know, my Friendship builds it’s hopes to serve you -on a sure Foundation---this jealous furious Wife, makes me the Confident -of her imagin’d Injuries, Conjures me to use all my Interest with you for -a reconcilement, and believes I am now pleading for her----I must for a -while rail at your Ingratitude, and Condemn your want of Taste, to keep -my Credit with her, and now and then sweeten her with a doubtful Hope -that it may be possible at last to bring you to acknowledge, that you -have been in an Error; this at once confirms her, that I am wholly on her -side, and engages her to follow my Advice. - -Tho’ nothing Palls desire so much as too easie an Assurance of Means to -gratifie it, yet a little hope is absolutely necessary to preserve it. -The fiery Wishes of D’ELMONT’S Soul, before chill’d by despair, and half -supprest with clouding Griefs, blaz’d now, as fierce, and vigorous as -ever, and he found so much probability in what the _Baron_ said, that he -was ready to adore him for the Contrivance. - -Thus all Parties, but MELLIORA, remain’d in a sort of a pleas’d -Expectation. The COUNT doubted not of being happy, nor ALOVISA of having -her curiosity satisfy’d by the _Baron’s_ Assistance, nor himself of the -reward he design’d to demand of her for that good Service, and each -long’d impatiently for the Day, or rather Night, which was to bring this -great Affair to a Period. Poor MELLIORA was the only Person, who had no -interval of Comfort. Restrain’d by Honour, and enflam’d by Love, her very -Soul was torn: And when she found that COUNT D’ELMONT made no attempt -to get into her Chamber again, as she imagin’d he wou’d, she fell into -a Despair more terrible than all her former Inquietudes; she presently -fancy’d that the disappointment he had met with the Night before, had -driven the hopeless Passion from his Heart, and the Thoughts of being no -longer beloved by him, were unsupportable. She saw him not all that Day, -nor the next, the quarrel between him and ALOVISA having caus’d separate -Tables, she was oblig’d in Decency, to eat at that where she was, and had -the Mortification of hearing her self Curs’d every Hour, by the enrag’d -Wife, in the Name of her unknown Rival, without daring to speak a Word in -her own Vindication. - -In the mean time the _Baron_ diligent to make good the Promises he had -given the COUNT and ALOVISA, for his own Ends, got every thing ready, and -came himself to D’ELMONT’S House, to entreat their Company at his. Now -Madam (said he) to ALOVISA the time is come to prove your Servants Faith: -This Night shall put an end to your uncertainty: They had no opportunity -for further Speech; MELLIORA came that Moment into the Room, who being -ask’d to go to the Ball, and seeming a little unwilling to appear at any -publick Diversion, by Reason of the late Death of her Father, put the -_Baron_ in a Mortal Apprehension for the Success of his Undertaking: But -ALOVYSA joyning in his Entreaties, she was at last prevail’d upon: The -COUNT went along with the _Baron_ in his Chariot: And the Ladies soon -follow’d in an other. - -There was a vast deal of Company there, and the _Count_ danc’d with -several of the Ladies, and was extreamly gay amongst them: ALOVYSA -watch’d his Behaviour, and regarded every one of them, in their Turn, -with Jealousie, but was far from having the least Suspicion of her whom -only she had Cause. - -Tho’ MELLIORA’S greatest Motive to go, was, because she might have the -happiness of seeing her admir’d _Count_; a Blessing, she had not enjoy’d -these two Days, yet she took but little Satisfaction in that View, -without an opportunity of being spoke to by him. But that uneasiness -was remov’d, when the serious Dances being over, and they all joyning -in a grand Ballet: He every now and then, got means to say a Thousand -tender Things to her, press’d her Hand whenever he turn’d her, and wou’d -sometimes, when at a distance from ALOVISA, pretend to be out, on purpose -to stand still, and talk to her. This kind of Behaviour banish’d part of -her Sufferings, for tho’ she cou’d consider both his, and her own Passion -in no other View, than that of a very great Misfortune to them both, -yet there are so many Pleasures, even in the Pains of Love. Such tender -thrillings, such Soul-ravishing Amusements, attend some happy Moments of -Contemplation, that those who most Endeavour, can wish but faintly to be -freed from. - -When it grew pretty late, the Baron made a sign to the Count to follow -him into a little Room joyning to that where they were, and when he had, -now my Lord, (said he) I doubt not but this Night will make you entirely -Possessor of your Wishes: I have prolonged the Entertainment, on purpose -to detain those, who ’tis necessary for our Design, and have ordered -a Chamber for MELLIORA, which has no Impediment to Bar your Entrance: -O! Thou best of Friends, (answer’d D’ELMONT) how shall I requite thy -Goodness? In making (resum’d the Baron) a right Use of the Opportunity -I give you, for if you do not, you render fruitless all the Labours of -my Brain, and make me wretched, while my Friend is so. Oh! fear me not -(cry’d D’ELMONT in a Rapture) I will not be deny’d, each Faculty of -my Soul is bent upon Enjoyment, tho’ Death in all its various Horrors -glar’d upon me, I’d scorn ’em all in MELLIORA’S Arms---O! the very Name -transports me---New fires my Blood, and tingles in my Veins---Imagination -points out all her Charms--Methinks I see her lie in sweet -Confusion--Fearing--Wishing--Melting---Her glowing Cheeks--Her closing -dying Eyes--her every kindling--Oh ’tis too vast for Thought! Even Fancy -flags, and cannot reach her Wonders! As he was speaking, MELANTHA, who -had taken notice of his going out of the Room, and had follow’d him with -a Design of talking to him, came time enough to hear the latter part of -what he said, but seeing her Brother with him, withdrew with as much -haste as she came, and infinitely more uneasiness of Mind; she was now -but too well assur’d that she had a greater difficulty than the Count’s -Matrimonial Engagement to get over, before she could reach his Heart, and -was ready to burst with Vexation to think she was supplanted: Full of a -Thousand tormenting Reflections she return’d to the Ball Room, and was so -out of Humour all the Night, that she could hardly be commonly Civil to -any Body that spoke to her. - -At last, the Hour so much desired by the Count, the Baron, and ALOVISA -(tho’ for various Reasons) was arriv’d: The Company broke up; those who -liv’d near, which were the greatest part, went home, the others being -entreated by the Baron, stay’d. When they were to be conducted to their -Chambers, he call’d MELANTHA, and desired she would take care of the -Ladies as he should direct, but above all, charg’d to place ALOVISA and -MELLIORA in two Chambers which he shewed her. - -MELANTHA was now let into the Secret she so much desired to know, the -Name of her Rival, which she had not come time enough to hear, when she -did the Count’s Rapturous Description of her. She had before found out, -that her Brother was in Love with ALOVYSA, and did not doubt, but that -there was a double Intrigue to be carry’d on that Night, and was the -more confirm’d in that Opinion, when she remembred, that the _Baron_ -had order’d the Lock that Day to be taken off the Door of that Chamber -where MELLIORA was to be lodg’d. It presently came into her Head, to -betray all she knew to ALOVISA, but she soon rejected that Resolution for -another, which she thought would give her a more pleasing Revenge: She -conducted all the Ladies to such Chambers as she thought fit, and ALOVISA -to that her Brother had desired, having no design of disappointing him, -but MELLIORA she led to one where she always lay her self, resolving to -supply her Place in the other, where the Count was to come: Yes, (said -she to her self) I will receive his Vows in MELLIORA’S Room, and when -I find him rais’d to the highest pitch of Expectation, declare who I -am, and awe him into Tameness; ’twill be a charming Piece of Vengeance, -besides, if he be not the most ungrateful Man on Earth, he must Adore my -Generosity in not exposing him to his Wife, when I have him in my Power, -after the Coldness he has us’d me with. She found something so pleasing -in this Contrivance, that no Considerations whatever, could have Power to -deter her from pursuing it. - -When the Baron found every thing was silent and ready for his Purpose, -he went softly to Count D’ELMONT’S Chamber, where he was impatiently -expected; and taking him by the Hand, led him to that, where he had -ordered MELLIORA to be Lodg’d. When they were at the Door, you see my -Lord, (said he) I have kept my Promise; there lies the Idol of your Soul, -go in, be bold, and all the Happiness, you wish attend you. The Count was -in too great a hurry of disorder’d Thoughts to make him any other Answer -than a passionate Embrace, and gently pushing open the Door which had no -fastning to it, left the Baron to prosecute the remaining part of his -treacherous Design. - -ALOVISA had all the time of her being at the Baron’s, endur’d most -grievous Racks of Mind, her Husband appear’d to her that Night, more -gay and lovely, if possible than ever, but that Contentment which sat -upon his Face, and added to his Graces, stung her to the Soul, when she -reflected how little Sympathy there was between them: Scarce a Month -(said she to her self) was I bless’d with those looks of Joy, a pensive -sullenness has dwelt upon his Brow e’er since, ’till now; ’tis from my -Ruin that his Pleasure flows, he hates me, and rejoyces in a Pretence, -tho’ never so poor a one, to be absent from me. She was inwardly toss’d -with a Multitude of these and the like perturbations, tho’ the Assurance -the Baron had given her of Revenge, made her conceal them tolerably well, -while she was in Company, but when she was left alone in the Chamber, and -perceiv’d the Baron did not come so soon as she expected. Her Rage broke -out in all the Violence imaginable: She gave a loose to every furious -Passion, and when she saw him enter, Cruel _D’Espernay_ (said she) where -have you been!---Is this the Friendship which you vow’d? To leave me here -distracted with my Griefs, while my perfidious Husband, and the cursed -she, that robs me of him, are perhaps, as happy, as their guilty Love can -make them? Madam (answer’d he) ’tis but a Moment since they are met: A -Moment! (interrupted she) a Moment is too much, the smallest Particle of -undivided Time, may make my Rival blest, and vastly recompence for all -that my Revenge can do. Ah Madam (resum’d the Baron) how dearly do you -still Love that most ungrateful Man: I had hopes that the full Knowledge -of his Falshood might have made you scorn the scorner, I shall be able by -to Morrow (reply’d the Cunning ALOVISA who knew his drift well enough) -to give you a better account of my Sentiments than now I can:---But why -do we delay (continued she impatiently) are they not together?---The -Baron saw this was no time to press her farther, and therefore taking -a Wax Candle which stood on the Table, in one Hand, and offering the -other to lead her, I am ready Madam (said he) to make good my Promise, -and shall esteem no other Hours of my Life happy, but those which may be -serviceable to you: They had only a small part of a Gallery to go thro’, -and ALOVISA had no time to answer to these last Words, if she had been -compos’d enough to have done it, before they were at the Door, which as -soon as the Baron had brought her to, he withdrew with all possible Speed. - -Tho’ the _Count_ had been but a very little time in the Arms of his -suppos’d MELLIORA, yet he had made so good use of it, and had taken -so much Advantage of her complying Humour, that all his Fears were at -an End, he now thought himself the most Fortunate of all Mankind; and -_Melantha_ was far from repenting the Breach of the Resolution she -had made of discovering her self to him. His Behaviour to her was all -Rapture, all killing extacy, and she flatter’d her self with a Belief, -that when he shou’d come to know to whom he ow’d that bliss he had -possess’d, he would not be ungrateful for it. - -What a confus’d Consternation must this Pair be in, when ALOVYSA rush’d -into the Room;---’tis hard to say, which was the greatest, the _Count’s_ -concern for his imagin’d MELLIORA’S Honour, or MELANTHA’S for her own; -but if one may form a Judgment from the Levity of the one’s Temper, and -generosity of the other’s, one may believe that his had the Preheminence: -But neither of them were so lost in Thought, as not to take what measures -the Place and Time wou’d permit, to baffle the Fury of this Incens’d -Wife: MELANTHA slunk under the Cloaths and the COUNT started up in the -Bed at the first Appearance of the Light, which ALOVYSA had in her Hand, -and in the most angry Accent he cou’d turn his Voice to, ask’d her the -Reason of her coming there: Rage, at this sight (prepar’d and arm’d for -it as she was) took away all Power of utterance from her; but she flew -to the Bed, and began to tear the Cloaths (which MELANTHA held fast over -her Head) in so violent a manner, that the _Count_ found the only way to -Tame her, was to meet Force with Force; so jumping out, he seiz’d on her, -and throwing her into a Chair, and holding her down in it, Madam, Madam -(said he) you are Mad, and I as such shall use you, unless you promise to -return quietly, and leave me. She cou’d yet bring forth no other Words, -than Villain,----Monster! And such like Names, which her Passion and -Injury suggested, which he but little regarding but for the noise she -made; for shame (resum’d he) expose not thus your self and me, if you -cannot command your Temper, at least confine your Clamours---I will not -stir (said she, raving and struggling to get loose) ’till I have seen -the Face that has undone me, I’ll tear out her bewitching Eyes---the -curst Adultress! And leave her Mistress of fewer Charms than thou canst -find in me: She spoke this with so elevated a Voice, that the _Count_ -endeavour’d to stop her Mouth, that she might not alarm the Company that -were in the House, but he cou’d not do it time enough to prevent her -from shrieking out Murder.---Help! Or the barbarous Man will kill me! At -these Words the _Baron_ came running in immediately, full of Surprize and -Rage at something he had met with in the mean time: How came this Woman -here, cry’d the _Count_ to him: Ask me not my Lord (said he) for I can -answer nothing, but every thing this cursed Night, I think, has happened -by Enchantment; he was going to say something more, but several of his -Guests hearing a noise, and cry of Murder, and directed by the Lights -they saw in that Room, came in, and presently after a great many of the -Servants, that the Chamber was as full as it cou’d hold: The _Count_ let -go his Wife on the sight of the first stranger that enter’d; and indeed, -there was no need of his confining her in that Place (tho’ he knew not so -much) for the violence of so many contrary Passions warring in her Breast -at once, had thrown her into a Swoon, and she fell back when he let go -his hold of her, Motionless, and in all appearance Dead. The _Count_ said -little, but began to put on his Cloaths, asham’d of the Posture he had -been seen in; but the BARON endeavour’d to perswade the Company, that it -was only a Family Quarrel of no Consequence, told them he was sorry for -the disturbance it had given them, and desir’d them to return to their -Rest, and when the Room was pretty clear, order’d two or three of the -Maids to carry ALOVYSA to her Chamber, and apply Things proper for her -Recovery; as they were bearing her out, MELLIORA who had been frighted as -well as the rest, with the noise she heard, was running along the Gallery -to see what had happen’d, and met them; her Trouble to find ALOVYSA in -that Condition, was unfeign’d, and she assisted those that were employ’d -about her, and accompany’d them where they carry’d her. - -The _Count_ was going to the Bed-side to comfort the conceal’d Fair, -that lay still under the Cloaths, when he saw MELLIORA at the Door: -What Surprize was ever equal to his, at this View?-----He stood like -one transfix’d with Thunder, he knew not what to think, or rather cou’d -not think at all, confounded with a seeming Impossibility. He beheld -the Person, whom he thought had lain in his Arms, whom he had enjoy’d, -whose Bulk and Proportion he still saw in the Bed, whom he was just -going to Address to, and for whom he had been in all the Agonies of Soul -imaginable, come from a distant Chamber, and unconcern’d, ask’d cooly, -how ALOVISA came to be taken ill! He look’d confusedly about, sometimes -on MELLIORA, sometimes towards the Bed, and sometimes on the Baron; am I -awake, (said he) or is every thing I see and hear, Illusion? The Baron -could not presently resolve after what manner he should answer, tho’ -he perfectly knew the Truth of this Adventure, and who was in the Bed; -for, when he had conducted ALOVISA to that Room, in order to make the -Discovery he had promised, he went to his Sister’s Chamber, designing to -abscond there, in case the Count should fly out on his Wife’s Entrance, -and seeing him there, imagine who it was that betray’d him; and finding -the Door shut, knock’d and call’d to have it opened; MELLIORA, who began -to think she should lye in quiet no where, ask’d who was there, and -what he would have? I would speak with my Sister, (reply’d he, as much -astonish’d then, to hear who it was that answer’d him, as the Count was -now to see her) and MELLIORA having assur’d him that she was not with -her, left him no Room to doubt, by what means the Exchange had been -made: Few Men, how amorous soever themselves, care that the Female part -of their Family should be so, and he was most sensibly mortify’d with -it, but reflecting that it could not be kept a Secret, at least from the -Count, my Lord, (said he, pointing to the Bed) there lies the Cause of -your Amazement, that wicked Woman has betray’d the Trust I repos’d in -her, and deceiv’d both you and me; rise, continued he, throwing open the -Curtains, thou shame of thy Sex, and everlasting Blot and Scandal of the -Noble House thou art descended from; rise, I say, or I will stab thee -here in this Scene of Guilt; in speaking these Words, he drew out his -Sword, and appear’d in such a real Fury, that the Count, tho’ more and -more amaz’d with every thing he saw and heard, made no doubt but he wou’d -do as he said, and ran to hold his Arm. - -As no Woman that is Mistress of a great share of Wit, _will_ be a Coquet, -so no Woman that has not a little, _can_ be one: MELANTHA, tho’ frighted -to Death with these unexpected Occurrences, feign’d a Courage, which she -had not in reality, and thrusting her Head a little above the Cloaths, -Bless me Brother (said she) I vow I do not know what you mean by all -this Bustle, neither am I guilty of any Crime: I was vex’d indeed to be -made a Property of, and chang’d Beds with MELLIORA for a little innocent -Revenge; for I always design’d to discover my self to the Count, time -enough to prevent Mischief. The Baron was not so silly as to believe -what she said, tho’ the Count, as much as he hated her, had too much -Generosity to contradict her, and keeping still hold of the Baron, come -_D’Espernay_, (said he) I believe your Sisters Stars and mine, have from -our Birth been at Variance, for this is the third Disappointment she has -given me; once in MELLIORA’S Chamber, then in the Wilderness, and now -here; but I forgive her, therefore let us retire and leave her to her -Repose. The Baron was sensible that all the Rage in the World could not -recall what had been done, and only giving her a furious Look, went with -the Count out of the Room, without saying any thing more to her at that -Time. - -The Baron with much Entreating, at last prevail’d on Count D’ELMONT to -go into his Bed, where he accompany’d him; but they were both of them -too full of troubled Meditations, to Sleep: His Sister’s Indiscretion -vex’d the Baron to the Heart, and took away great part of the Joy, for -the fresh Occasion the Count had given ALOVISA to withdraw her Affection -from him. But with what Words can the various Passions that agitated -the Soul of D’ELMONT be described? The Transports he had enjoy’d in an -imaginary Felicity, were now turn’d to so many real Horrors; he saw -himself expos’d to all the World, for it would have been Vanity to the -last Degree, to believe this Adventure would be kept a Secret, but what -gave him the most bitter Reflection, was, that MELLIORA when she should -know it, as he could not doubt but she immediately wou’d be told it by -ALOVISA, wou’d judge of it by the Appearance, and believe him, at once, -the most vicious, and most false of Men. As for his Wife, he thought not -of her, with any Compassion for his Sufferings, but with Rage and Hate, -for that jealous Curiosity, which he suppos’d had led her to watch his -Actions that Night; (for he had not the least Suspicion of the Baron.) -MELANTHA he always despised, but now detested, for the Trick she had put -upon him; yet thought it would be not only unmanly, but barbarous to let -her know he did so: It was in vain for him to endeavour to come to a -Determination after what manner he should behave himself to any of them, -and when the Night was past, in forming a thousand several Resolutions, -the Morning found him as much to seek as before: He took his Leave early -of the Baron, not being willing to see any of the Company after what had -happened, ’till he was more Compos’d. - -He was not deceiv’d in his Conjectures concerning MELLIORA, for -ALOVISA was no sooner recover’d from her Swoon, than, she, with -bitter Exclamations, told her what had been the Occasion, and put that -astonish’d Fair one into such a visible Disorder, as had she not been too -full of Misery, to take Notice of it, had made her easily perceive that -she was deeply interested in the Story: But whatever she said against -the Count, as she could not forbear something, calling him Ungrateful, -Perjur’d, Deceitful, and Inconstant, ALOVISA took only, as a Proof of -Friendship to her self, and the Effects of that just Indignation all -Women ought to feel for him, that takes a Pride in Injuring any one of -them. - -When the Count was gone, the Baron sent to ALOVISA to enquire of her -Health, and if he might have leave to visit her in her Chamber, and being -told she desired he shou’d, resolv’d now to make his Demand. MELLIORA had -but just parted from her, in order to get herself ready to go Home, and -she was alone when he came in. As soon as the first Civilities were over, -she began afresh to conjure him to let her know the Name of her Rival, -which he artfully evading, tho’ not absolutely denying, made her almost -distracted; the Baron carefully observ’d her every Look and Motion, and -when he found her Impatience was rais’d to the highest degree; Madam -(said he, taking her by the Hand, and looking tenderly on her) you cannot -blame a Wretch who has lavish’d all he had away to one poor Jewel, -to make the most he can of that, to supply his future Wants: I have -already forfeited all pretence to Honour, and even common Hospitality, -by betraying the Trust that was repos’d in me, and exposing under my -own Roof, the Man who takes me for his dearest Friend, and what else I -have suffer’d from that unavoidable Impulse which compell’d me to do all -this, your self may judge, who too well know, the Pangs and Tortures of -neglected Love---Therefore, (continued he with a deep Sigh) since this -last reserve is all my Hopes dependance, do not, Oh Charming ALOVISA, -think me Mercinary, if I presume to set a Price upon it, which I confess -too high, yet nothing less can Purchase: No Price (reply’d ALOVISA, who -thought a little Condescension was necessary to win him to her purpose) -can be too dear to buy my Peace, nor Recompence too great for such a -Service: What, not your Love, said the Baron, eagerly kissing her Hand? -No (resum’d she, forcing herself to look kindly on him) not even that, -when such a Proof of yours engages it; but do not keep me longer on the -Rack, give me the Name and then.---She spoke these last Words with such -an Air of Languishment, that the Baron thought his Work was done, and -growing bolder, from her Hand he proceeded to her Lips, and answer’d her -only in Kisses, which distastful as they were to her, she suffer’d him to -take, without Resistance, but that was not all he wanted, and believing -this the Critical Minute, he threw his Arms about her Waist, and began -to draw her by little and little toward the Bed; which she affected to -permit with a kind of an unwilling Willingness; saying, Well, if you -wou’d have me able to deny you nothing you can ask, tell me the Name I -so much wish to know: But the Baron was as cunning as she, and seeing -thro’ her Artifice, was resolv’d to make sure of his Reward first: Yes, -yes, my adorable ALOVISA (answer’d he, having brought her now very near -the Bed) you shall immediately know all, thy Charms will force the Secret -from my Breast, close as it is lodg’d within my inmost Soul.---Dying -with Rapture I will tell thee all.---If that a Thought of this injurious -Husband, can interpose amidst Extatick Joys. What will not some Women -venture, to satisfy a jealous Curiosity? ALOVISA had feign’d to consent -to his Desires, (in hopes to engage him to a Discovery) so far, and had -given him so many Liberties, that now, it was as much as she cou’d do -to save herself, from the utmost Violence, and perceiving she had been -outwitted, and that nothing but the really yielding up her Honour, cou’d -oblige him to reveal what she desired. Villain, said she, (struggling -to get loose from his Embrace) dare thy base Soul believe so vilely of -me? Release me from thy detested Hold, or my Cries shall force thee to -it, and proclaim thee what thou art, a Monster! The Baron was not enough -deluded by her pretence of Kindness, to be much surpriz’d at this sudden -turn of her Behaviour, and only cooly answer’d, Madam, I have no design -of using Violence, but perceive, if I had depended on your Gratitude, I -had been miserably deceiv’d. Yes (said she, looking contemptibly on him) -I own thou would’st; for whatsoever I might say, or thou could’st hope, I -love my Husband still, with an unbated Fondness, doat upon him! Faithless -and Cruel as he is, he still is lovely! His Eyes lose nothing of their -brightness, nor his Tongue its softness! His very Frowns have more -Attraction in them than any others Smiles! and canst thou think! Thou, -so different in all from him, that thou seemest not the same Species of -Humanity, nor ought’st to stile thy self a Man since he is no more: Canst -thou, I say, believe a Woman, bless’d as ALOVISA has been, can e’er blot -out the dear Remembrance, and quit her Hopes of re-gain’d Paradise in -his Embrace, for certain Hell in Thine? She spoke these Words with so -much Scorn, that the Baron skill’d as he was in every Art to tempt, cou’d -not conceal the Spite he conceiv’d at them, and letting go her Hand, -(which perforce he had held) I leave you Madam (said he) to the Pleasure -of enjoying your own Humour; neither that, nor your Circumstances are -to be envy’d, but I’d have you to remember, that you are your own -Tormentor, while you refuse the only means can bring you Ease. I will -have Ease another way (said she, incens’d at the Indignity she imagin’d -he treated her with) and if you still persist in refusing to discover to -me the Person who has injur’d me, I shall make no difficulty of letting -the Count know how much of his Secrets you have imparted, and for what -Reason you conceal the other: You may do so (answer’d he) and I doubt -not but you will---Mischief is the darling Favourite of Woman! Blood is -the Satisfaction perhaps, that you require, and if I fall by him, or he -by me, your Revenge will have its aim, either on the Unloving or the -Unlov’d; for me, I set my Life at nought, without your Love ’tis Hell; -but do not think that even dying, to purchase Absolution, I’d reveal one -Letter of that Name, you so much wish to hear, the Secret shall be buried -with me.----Yes, Madam (continued he, with a malicious Air) that happy -Fair unknown, whose Charms have made you wretched, shall undiscover’d, -and unguess’d at, Triumph in those Joys you think none but your Count can -give. ALOVISA had not an Opportunity to make any Answer to what he said; -MELLIORA came that Moment into the Room, and ask’d if she was ready to -go, and ALOVISA saying that she was, they both departed from the Baron’s -House, without much Ceremony on either side. - -ALOVISA had not been long at home before a Messenger came to acquaint -her, that her Sister having miss’d of her at _Paris_, was now on her -Journey to _Le Beausse_, and wou’d be with her in a few Hours: She -rejoyc’d as much at this News, as it was possible for one so full of -disquiet to do, and order’d her Chariot and Six to be made ready again, -and went to meet her. - -D’ELMONT heard of ANSELLINA’S coming almost as soon as ALOVISA, and his -Complaisance for Ladies, join’d with the extream desire he had of seeing -his Brother, whom he believ’d was with her, wou’d certainly have given -him Wings to have flown to them with all imaginable Speed, had not the -late Quarrel between him and his Wife, made him think it was improper -to join Company with her on any Account whatever: He was sitting in -his Dressing-Room Window in a melancholly and disturb’d Meditation, -ruminating on every Circumstance of his last Nights Adventure, when -he perceiv’d a couple of Horsemen come galloping over the Plain, and -make directly toward his House. The Dust they made, kept him from -distinguishing who they were, and they were very near the Gate before -he discover’d them to be the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN, and his Servant: The -Surprize he was in to see him without ANSELLINA was very great, but -much more so, when running down, as soon as he saw he was alighted, and -opening his Arms eagerly to Embrace him; the other drawing back, No, -my Lord (said he) since you are pleas’d to forget I am your Brother, -I pretend no other way to merit your Embraces: Nor can think it any -Happiness to hold him in my Arms, who keeps me distant from his Heart. -What mean you (cry’d D’ELMONT, extreamly astonish’d at his Behaviour) -you know so little (resum’d the _Chevalier_) of the power of Love, your -self, that perhaps, you think I ought not to resent what you having done -to ruin me in mine: But, however Sir, Ambition is a Passion which you -are not a Stranger to, and have settled your own Fortune according to -your Wish, methinks you shou’d not wonder that I take it ill, when you -endeavour to prevent my doing so to: The _Count_ was perfectly Confounded -at these Words, and looking earnestly on him; Brother (said he) you seem -to lay a heavy Accusation on me, but if you still retain so much of that -former Affection which was between us, as to desire I shou’d be clear’d -in your Esteem, you must be more plain in your Charge, for tho’ I easily -perceive that I am wrong’d, I cannot see by what means I am so. My Lord, -you are not wrong’d (cry’d the _Chevalier_ hastily) you know you are -not: If my Tongue were silent, the despair that sits upon my Brow, my -alter’d Looks, and grief-sunk Eyes, wou’d proclaim your Barbarous---most -unnatural Usage of me. Ungrateful BRILLIAN (said the COUNT, at once -inflam’d with Tenderness and Anger) is this the Consolation I expected -from your Presence? I know not for what Cause I am upbraided, being -Innocent of any, nor what your Troubles are, but I am sure my own -are such, as needed not this Weight to overwhelm me. He spoke this so -feelingly, and concluded with so deep a sigh as most sensibly touch’d -the Heart of BRILLIAN. If I cou’d believe that you had any (reply’d he) -it were enough to sink me quite, and rid me of a Life which ANSELLINA’S -loss has made me hate. What said you, (interrupted the _Count_) -ANSELLINA’S loss? If that be true, I pardon all the wildness of your -unjust Reproaches, for well I know, despair has small regard to Reason, -but quickly speak the Cause of your Misfortune:---I was about to enquire -the Reason that I saw you not together, when your unkind Behaviour drove -it from my Thoughts. That Question (answer’d the _Chevalier_) ask’d by -you some Days since, wou’d have put me past all the Remains of Patience, -but I begin to hope I am not so unhappy as I thought, but still am blest -in Friendship, tho’ undone in Love----but I’ll not keep you longer in -suspence, my Tale of Grief is short in the Repeating, tho’ everlasting in -its Consequence. In saying this, he sat down, and the _Count_ doing the -like, and assuring him of Attention, he began his Relation in this manner. - -Your Lordship may remember that I gave you an Account by Letter, of -ANSELLINA’S Indisposition, and the Fears I was in for her; but by the -time I receiv’d your Answer, I thought my self the happiest of Mankind: -She was perfectly recover’d, and every Day I receiv’d new Proofs of her -Affection: We began to talk now of coming to _Paris_, and she seem’d -no less Impatient for that Journey than my self, and one Evening, the -last I ever had the Honour of her Conversation; she told me, that in -spite of the Physicians Caution, she wou’d leave _Amiens_ in three or -four Days; You may be sure I did not disswade her from that Resolution; -but, how great was my Astonishment, when going the next Morning to the -_Baronesses_, to give the Ladies the _Bonjour_, as I constantly did -every Morning, I perceiv’d an unusual coldness in the Face of every -one in the Family; the _Baroness_ herself spoke not to me, but to tell -me that ANSELLINA wou’d see no Company: How, Madam, said I, am I not -excepted from those general Orders, what can this sudden alteration in -my Fortune mean? I suppose (reply’d she) that ANSELLINA has her Reasons -for what she does: I said all that despair cou’d suggest, to oblige her -to give me some light into this Mistery, but all was in vain, she either -made me no Answers, or such as were not Satisfactory, and growing weary -with being Importun’d, she abruptly went out of the Room, and left me -in a confusion not to be Express’d: I renew’d my visit the next Day, -and was then deny’d admittance by the Porter: The same, the following -one, and as Servants commonly form their Behaviour, according to that of -those they serve, it was easy for me to observe I was far from being a -welcome Guest: I writ to ANSELLINA, but had my Letter return’d unopen’d: -And that Scorn so unjustly thrown upon me, tho’ it did not absolutely -cure my Passion, yet it stirr’d up so much just Resentment in me, that -it abated very much of its Tenderness: About a Fortnight I remain’d in -this perplexity, and at the end of it was plung’d into a greater, when I -receiv’d a little _Billet_ from ANSELLINA, which as I remember, contain’d -these Words. - - [Illustration] - - ANSELLINA to the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN. - - _I sent your Letter back without Perusing, believing it might - contain something of a Subject which I am resolv’d to encourage - no farther: I do not think it proper at present to acquaint you - with my Reasons for it; but if I see you at PARIS, you shall - know them: I set out for thence to Morrow, but desire you not - to pretend to Accompany me thither, if you wou’d preserve the - Esteem of_, - - ANSELLINA. - -I cannot but say, I thought this manner of proceeding very odd, and -vastly different from that openness of Nature, I always admir’d in -her, but as I had been always a most obsequious Lover; I resolv’d not -to forfeit that Character, and give a Proof of an implicite Obedience -to her Will, tho’ with what Anxiety of Mind you may imagine. I stood -at a distance, and saw her take Coach, and as soon as her Attendants -were out of sight, I got on Horseback, and follow’d; I several Times -lay at the same Inn where she did, but took care not to appear before -her: Never was any sight more pleasing to me, than that of _Paris_, -because I there hop’d to have my Destiny unravell’d; but your being out -of Town, preventing her making any stay, I was reduc’d to another tryal -of Patience; about Seven Furlongs from hence, hap’ning to Bait at the -same _Cabaret_ with her, I saw her Woman, who had been always perfectly -obliging to me, walking alone in the Garden; I took the liberty to show -my self to her, and ask her some Questions concerning my future Fate, to -which she answer’d with all the Freedom I cou’d desire, and observing -the Melancholly, which was but too apparent in my Countenance: Sir, said -she, tho’ I think nothing can be more blame-worthy than to betray the -Secrets of our Superiors, yet I hope I shall stand excus’d for declaring -so much of my Lady’s as the Condition you are in, seems to require; I -wou’d not therefore have you believe that in this Separation, you are -the only Sufferer, I can assure you, my Lady bears her part of Sorrow -too.----How can that be possible (cry’d I) when my Misfortune is brought -upon me, only by the change of her Inclination? Far from it (answer’d -she) you have a Brother--he only is to blame, she has receiv’d Letters -from _Madam_ D’ELMONT which have---as she was speaking, she was call’d -hastily away, without being able to finish what she was about to say, -and I was so Impatient to hear: Her naming you in such a manner, planted -ten thousand Daggers in my Soul!----What cou’d I imagine by those Words, -_You have a Brother, he only is to Blame_, and her mentioning Letters -from that Brother’s Wife; but that it was thro’ you I was made wretched? -I repeated several times over to my self, what she had said, but cou’d -wrest no other Meaning from it, than that you being already possess’d -of the Elder Sister’s Fortune, were willing to Engross the other’s too, -by preventing her from Marrying: Pardon me, my Lord, if I have Injur’d -you, since I protest, the Thoughts of your designing my undoing, was, if -possible, more dreadful to me than the Ill it self. - -You will, reply’d the _Count_, be soon convinc’d how little Hand I had -in those Letters, whatever they contain’d, when you have been here a few -Days. He then told him of the disagreement between himself and ALOVISA, -her perpetual Jealousy, her Pride, her Rage, and the little probability -there was of their being ever reconcil’d, so as to live together as they -ought, omitting nothing of the Story, but his Love for MELLIORA, and -the Cause he had given to create this uneasiness. They both concluded, -that ANSELLINA’S alteration of Behaviour was entirely owing to something -her Sister had written, and that she wou’d use her utmost endeavour -to break off the Match wholly in Revenge to her Husband: As they were -discoursing on means to prevent it, the Ladies came to the Gate; they saw -them thro’ the Window, and ran to receive them immediately: The _Count_ -handed ANSELLINA out of the Coach, with great Complaisance, while the -_Chevalier_ wou’d have done the same by ALOVISA, but she wou’d not permit -him, which the _Count_ observing, when he had paid those Complements to -her Sister, which he thought civility requir’d, Madam (said he, turning -to her and frowning) is it not enough, you make me wretched by your -continual Clamours, and Upbraidings, but that your ill Nature must extend -to all, whom you believe I love? She answer’d him only with a disdainful -Look, and haughty Toss, which spoke the Pleasure she took in having it in -her Power to give him Pain, and went out of the Room with ANSELLINA. - -D’ELMONT’S Family was now become a most distracted one, every Body was -in confusion, and it was hard for a disinterested Person, to know how -to behave among them: The _Count_ was ready to die with Vexation, when -he reflected on the Adventure at the BARON’S with MELANTHA, and how -hard it wou’d be to clear his Conduct in that point with MELLIORA: She, -on the other Hand, was as much tormented at his not attempting it. The -_Chevalier_, was in the height of despair, when he found that ANSELLINA -continued her Humour, and still avoided letting him know the occasion of -it: And ALOVISA, tho’ she contented herself for some Hours with relating -to her Sister, all the Passages of her Husband’s unkind usage of her, -yet when that was over, her Curiosity return’d, and she grew so madly -Zealous to find out, who her rival was, that she repented her Behaviour -to the _Baron_, and sent him the next Day privately, a _Billet_, wherein -she assur’d him, that she had acquainted the _Count_ with nothing that -had pass’d between them, and that she desir’d to speak with him. ’Tis -easy to believe he needed not a second Invitation; he came immediately, -and ALOVISA renew’d her Entreaties in the most pressing manner she was -capable of, but in vain, he told her plainly, that if he cou’d not -have her Heart, nothing but the full Possession of her Person shou’d -Extort the Secret from him. ’Twould swell this Discourse beyond what I -design, to recount her various Starts of Passions, and different Turns -of Behaviour, sometimes louder than the Winds she rav’d! Commanded! -Threatned! Then, still as _April_ Showers, or Summer Dews she wept, and -only whisper’d her Complaints, now dissembling Kindness, then declaring -unfeign’d Hate; ’till at last, finding it impossible to prevail by any -other means, she promis’d to admit him at Midnight into her Chamber: -But as it was only the force of her too passionate Affection for her -Husband, which had work’d her to this pitch of raging Jealousie, so she -had no sooner made the Assignation, and the _Baron_ had left her (to seek -the _Count_ to prevent any suspicion of their long Conversation) but -all D’ELMONT’S Charms came fresh into her Mind, and made the Thoughts -of what she had promis’d, Odious and Insupportable; she open’d her -Mouth more than once to call back the _Baron_, and Recant all that she -had said; but her ill Genius, or that Devil, Curiosity, which too much -haunts the Minds of Women, still prevented Her: What will become of me, -(said she to her self) what is it I am about to do? Shall I foregoe my -Honour---quit my Virtue,---sully my yet unspotted Name with endless -Infamy---and yield my Soul to Sin, to Shame, and Horror, only to know -what I can ne’er Redress? If D’ELMONT hates me now, will he not do so -still?---What will this curs’d Discovery bring me but added Tortures, and -fresh weight of Woe: Happy had it been for her if these Considerations -cou’d have lasted, but when she had been a Minute or two in this Temper, -she wou’d relapse and cry, what! must I tamely bear it then?---Endure -the Flouts of the malicious World, and the contempt of every saucy -Girl, who while she pities, scorns my want of Charms--Shall I neglected -tell my Tale of Wrongs, (O, Hell is in that Thought) ’till my despair -shall reach my Rival’s Ears, and Crown her Adulterous Joys with double -Pleasure.---Wretch that I am!--Fool that I am, to hesitate, my Misery -is already past Addition, my everlasting Peace is broke! Lost even to -hope, what can I more endure?---No, since I must be ruin’d, I’ll have -the Satisfaction of dragging with me to Perdition, the Vile, the Cursed -she that has undone me: I’ll be reveng’d on her, then die my self, and -free me from Pollution. As she was in this last Thought, she perceiv’d -at a good distance from her, the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN and ANSELLINA in -Discourse; the sight of him immediately put a new contrivance into her -Head, and she compos’d her self as she cou’d, and went to meet them. - -ANSELLINA having been left alone, while her Sister was Entertaining the -_Baron_, had walk’d down into the Garden to divert her self, where the -_Chevalier_, who was on the watch for such an opportunity, had follow’d -her; he cou’d not forbear, tho’ in Terms full of Respect, taxing her -with some little Injustice for her late Usage of him, and Breach of -Promise, in not letting him know her Reasons for it: She, who by Nature -was extreamly averse to the disguising her Sentiments, suffer’d him not -long to press her for an _Eclaircissment_, and with her usual Freedom, -told him what she had done, was purely in compliance with her Sister’s -Request; that she cou’d not help having the same Opinion of him as ever, -but that she had promis’d ALOVISA to defer any Thoughts of marrying him, -till his Brother shou’d confess his Error: The obliging things she said -to him, tho’ she persisted in her Resolution, dissipated great part of -his Chagreen, and he was beginning to excuse D’ELMONT, and persuade her -that her Sister’s Temper was the first occasion of their quarrel, when -ALOVISA interrupted them. ANSELLINA was a little out of Countenance -at her Sister’s Presence, imagining she wou’d be Incens’d at finding -her with the _Chevalier_; but that distressed Lady was full of other -Thoughts, and desiring him to follow her to her Chamber, as soon as they -were set down, confess’d to him, how, fir’d with his Brother’s Falshood, -she endeavour’d to revenge it upon him, that she had been his Enemy, but -was willing to enter into any Measures for his Satisfaction, provided -he wou’d comply with one, which she should propose, which he faithfully -promising, after she had sworn him to Secrecy, discover’d to him every -Circumstance, from her first Cause of Jealousy, to the Assignation she -had made with the _Baron_; now, said she, it is in your Power to preserve -both your Brother’s Honour, and my Life (which I sooner will resign than -my Vertue) if you stand conceal’d in a little Closet, which I shall -convey you to, and the Moment he has satisfy’d my Curiosity, by telling -me her Name that has undone me, rush out, and be my Protector. The -_Chevalier_ was infinitely Surpriz’d at what he heard, for his Brother -had not given him the least hint of his Passion, but thought the request -she made, too reasonable to be deny’d. - -While they were in this Discourse, MELLIORA, who had been sitting -indulging her Melancholly in that Closet which ALOVISA spoke of, and -which did not immediately belong to that Chamber, but was a sort of an -Entry, or Passage, into another, and tir’d with Reflection, was fallen -asleep, but on the noise which ALOVYSA and the _Chevalier_ made in -coming in, wak’d, and heard to her inexpressible trouble, the Discourse -that pass’d between them: She knew that unknown Rival was herself, and -condemn’d the _Count_ of the highest Imprudence, in making a confidant, -as she found he had, of the _Baron_; she saw her Fate, at least that of -her Reputation was now upon the Crisis, that, that very Night she was -to be expos’d to all the Fury of an enrag’d Wife, and was so shook with -apprehension, that she was scarce able to go out of the Closet time -enough to prevent their discovering she was there; what cou’d she do in -this Exigence, the Thoughts of being betray’d, was worse to her than a -thousand Deaths, and it was to be wondred at, as she has since confest, -that in that height of Desparation, she had not put an end to the -Tortures of Reflection, by laying violent Hands on her own Life: As she -was going from the Closet hastily to her own Appartment, the _Count_ and -_Baron_ pass’d her, and that sight heightening the distraction she was -in, she stept to the _Count_, and in a faultring, scarce intelligible -Accent, whisper’d, for Heaven’s Sake let me speak with you before Night, -make some pretence to come to my Chamber, where I’ll wait for you. And -as soon as she had spoke these Words, darted from him so swift, that he -had no opportunity of replying, if he had not been too much overwhelm’d -with Joy at this seeming Change of his Fortune to have done it; he -misunderstood part of what she said, and instead of her desiring to speak -with him _before Night_, he imagin’d, she said _at Night_. He presently -communicated it to the _Baron_, who congratulated him upon it; and never -was any Night more impatiently long’d for, than this was by them both. -They had indeed not many Hours of Expectation, but MELLIORA thought -them Ages; all her hopes were, that if she cou’d have an opportunity of -discovering to _Count_ D’ELMONT what she had heard between his Wife and -Brother, he might find some means to prevent the _Baron’s_ Treachery -from taking Effect. But when Night grew on, and she perceiv’d he came -not, and she consider’d how near she was to inevitable Ruin, what Words -can sufficiently express her Agonies? So I shall only say, they were -too violent to have long kept Company with Life; Guilt, Horrour, Fear, -Remorse, and Shame at once oppress’d her, and she was very near sinking -beneath their Weight, when somebody knock’d softly at the Door; she -made no doubt but it was the _Count_, and open’d it immediately, and he -catching her in his Arms with all the eagerness of transported Love, she -was about to clear his Mistake, and let him know it was not an amourous -Entertainment she expected from him; when a sudden cry of Murder, and the -noise of clashing Swords, made him let go his hold, and draw his own, and -run along the Gallery to find out the occasion, where being in the dark, -and only directed by the noise he heard in his Wife’s Chamber, something -met the point, and a great shriek following it, he cry’d for Lights but -none coming immediately; he stepping farther stumbled at the Body which -had fallen, he then redoubled his outcrys, and MELLIORA, frighted as -she was, brought one from her Chamber, and at the same Instant that -they discover’d it was ALOVISA, who coming to alarm the Family, had by -Accident run on her Husband’s Sword, they saw the _Chevalier_ pursuing -the _Baron_, who mortally wounded, dropt down by ALOVISA’S side; what -a dreadful View was this? The _Count_, MELLIORA, and the Servants, who -by this time were most of them rowz’d, seem’d without Sence or Motion, -only the _Chevalier_ had Spirit enough to speak, or think, so stupify’d -was every one with what they saw. But he ordering the Servants to take -up the Bodies, sent one of ’em immediately for a Surgeon, but they -were both of them past his Art to cure; ALOVISA spoke no more, and the -_Baron_ liv’d but two Days, in which time the whole Account, as it was -gather’d from the Mouths of those chiefly concern’d, was set down, and -the Tragical part of it being laid before the KING, there appear’d so -much of Justice in the _Baron’s_ Death, and Accident in ALOVISA’S, that -the _Count_ and _Chevalier_ found it no difficult matter to obtain their -Pardon. The _Chevalier_ was soon after Married to his beloved ANSELLINA; -but MELLIORA look’d on herself as the most guilty Person upon Earth, as -being the primary Cause of all the Misfortunes that had happen’d, and -retir’d immediately to a Monastery, from whence, not all the entreaties -of her Friends, nor the implorations of the Amorous D’ELMONT cou’d bring -her, she was now resolv’d to punish, by a voluntary Banishment from all -she ever did, or cou’d love; the Guilt of Indulging that Passion, while -it was a Crime. He, not able to live without her, at least in the same -Climate, committed the Care of his Estate to his Brother, and went to -Travel, without an Inclination ever to return: MELANTHA who was not of a -Humour to take any thing to Heart, was Married in a short Time, and had -the good Fortune not to be suspected by her Husband, though she brought -him a Child in Seven Months after her Wedding. - - - - - _LOVE in Excess:_ - OR, THE - FATAL INQUIRY, - A - NOVEL. - - The THIRD and Last PART. - - _Success can then alone your Vows attend,_ - _When Worth’s the Motive, Constancy the End._ - - EPILOGUE to the _Spartan_ Dame. - - By _Mrs._ Haywood. - - [Illustration] - - _LONDON_: - Printed for W. CHETWOOD, J. WOODMAN, D. - BROWN, and S. CHAPMAN. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -LOVE in EXCESS: - -OR, THE - -FATAL ENQUIRY. - -The Third and Last PART. - - -Tho’ Count _D’elmont_ never had any tenderness for _Alovisa_, and her -Extravagance of Rage and Jealousie, join’d to his Passion for _Melliora_, -had every Day abated it, yet the manner of her Death was too great a -shock to the sweetness of his Disposition, to be easily worn off; he -cou’d not remember her Uneasiness, without reflecting that it sprung only -from her too violent Affection for him; and tho’ there was no possibility -of living happily with her, when he consider’d that she died, not only -for him, but by his Hand, his Compassion for the Cause, and Horror for -the unwish’d, as well as undesign’d Event, drew Lamentations from him, -more sincere, perhaps, than one of those Husbands, who call themselves -very loving ones, wou’d make. - -To alleviate the troubles of his Mind, he had endeavour’d all he cou’d, -to persuade _Melliora_ to continue in his House; but that afflicted Lady -was not to be prevail’d upon, she look’d on her self, as in a manner, -accessary to _Alovisa_’s Death, and thought the least she ow’d to her -Reputation was to see the _Count_ no more, and tho’ in the forming this -Resolution, she felt Torments unconceivable, yet the strength of her -Virtue enabled her to keep it, and she return’d to the Monastery, where -she had been Educated, carrying with her nothing of that Peace of Mind -with which she left it. - -Not many Days pass’d between her Departure, and the _Count_’s; he took -his way towards _Italy_, by the Persuasions of his Brother, who, since he -found him bent to Travel, hop’d that Garden of the World might produce -something to divert his Sorrows; he took but two Servants with him, and -those rather for conveniency than State: _Ambition_, once his darling -Passion, was now wholly extinguish’d in him by these Misfortunes, and he -no longer thought of making a Figure in the World; but his _Love_ nothing -cou’d abate, and ’tis to be believ’d that the violence of that wou’d have -driven him to the use of some fatal Remedy, if the _Chevalier Brillian_, -to whom he left the Care of _Melliora_’s and her Brother’s Fortune as -well as his own, had not, tho’ with much difficulty, obtain’d a Promise -from her, of conversing with him by Letters. - -This was all he had to keep hope alive, and indeed it was no -inconsiderable Consolation, for she that allows a Correspondence of that -Kind with a Man that has any Interest in her Heart, can never persuade -herself, while she does so, to make him become indifferent to her. -When we give our selves the liberty of even talking of the Person we -have once lov’d, and find the least pleasure in that Discourse, ’tis -ridiculous to imagine we are free from that Passion, without which, the -mention of it would be but insipid to our Ears, and the remembrance -to our Minds, tho’ our Words are never so Cold, they are the Effects -of a secret Fire, which burns not with less Strength for not being -Dilated. The _Count_ had too much Experience of all the Walks and Turns -of Passion to be ignorant of this, if _Melliora_ had endeavour’d to -disguise her Sentiments, but she went not so far, she thought it a -sufficient vindication of her Virtue, to withold the rewarding of his -Love, without feigning a coldness to which she was a stranger, and he -had the satisfaction to observe a tenderness in her Stile, which assur’d -him, that her _Heart_ was unalterably his, and very much strengthen’d his -Hopes, that one Day her Person might be so too, when time had a little -effac’d the Memory of those Circumstances, which had obliged her to put -this constraint on her Inclinations. - -He wrote to her from every Post-Town, and waited till he receiv’d -her Answer, by this means his Journey was extreamly tedious, but no -Adventures of any moment, falling in his way ’till he came to _Rome_, I -shall not trouble my Readers with a recital of particulars which cou’d be -no way Entertaining. - -But, how strangely do they deceive themselves, who fancy that they are -Lovers, yet on every little turn of Fortune, or Change of Circumstance, -are agitated, with any Vehemence, by Cares of a far different Nature? -_Love_ is too jealous, too arbitrary a Monarch to suffer any other -Passion to equalize himself in that Heart where he has fix’d his Throne. -When once enter’d, he becomes the whole Business of our Lives, we -think----we Dream of nothing else, nor have a Wish not inspir’d by him: -Those who have the Power to apply themselves so seriously to any other -Consideration as to forget him, tho’ but for a Moment, are but Lovers in -Conceit, and have entertain’d Desire but as an agreeable Amusement, which -when attended with any Inconvenience, they may without much difficulty -shake off. Such a sort of Passion may be properly enough call’d _Liking_, -but falls widely short of _Love_. _Love_, is what we can neither resist, -expel, nor even alleviate, if we should never so vigorously attempt it; -and tho’ some have boasted, _Thus far will I yield and no farther_, they -have been convinc’d of the Vanity of forming such Resolutions by the -impossibility of keeping them. _Liking_ is a flashy Flame, which is to -be kept alive only by ease and delight. _Love_, needs not this fewel -to maintain its Fire, it survives in Absence, and disappointments, it -endures, unchill’d, the wintry Blasts of cold Indifference and Neglect, -and continues its Blaze, even in a storm of Hatred and Ingratitude, -and Reason, Pride, or a just sensibility of conscious Worth, in vain -oppose it. _Liking_, plays gaily round, feeds on the Sweets in gross, -but is wholly insensible of the Thorns which guard the nicer, and more -refin’d Delicacies of Desire, and can consequently give neither Pain, nor -Pleasure in any superlative degree. _Love_ creates intollerable Torments! -Unspeakable Joys! Raises us to the highest Heaven of Happiness, or sinks -us to the lowest Hell of Misery. - -Count _D’elmont_ experienc’d the Truth of this Assertion; for neither -his just concern for the manner of _Alovisa_’s Death cou’d curb the -Exuberance of his Joy, when he consider’d himself belov’d by _Melliora_, -nor any Diversion of which _Rome_ afforded great Variety, be able to make -him support being absent from her with Moderation. There are I believe, -but few modern Lovers, how Passionate and constant soever they pretend to -be, who wou’d not in the _Count_’s Circumstances have found some matter -of Consolation; but he seem’d wholly dead to Gaiety. In vain, all the -_Roman_ Nobility courted his acquaintance; in vain the Ladies made use -of their utmost Artifice to engage him: He prefer’d a solitary Walk, a -lonely Shade, or the Bank of some purling Stream, where he undisturb’d -might contemplate on his belov’d _Melliora_, to all the noisy Pleasures -of the Court, or the endearments of the inviting Fair. In fine, he shun’d -as much as possible all Conversation with the Men, or Correspondence with -the Women; returning all their _Billet-Doux_, of which scarce a Day past, -without his receiving some, unanswer’d. - -This manner of Behaviour in a little time deliver’d him from the -Persecutions of the Discreet; but having receiv’d one Letter which he had -us’d as he had done the rest, it was immediately seconded by another; -both which contain’d as follows: - - [Illustration] - - LETTER I. - - To the never Enough Admir’d COUNT D’ELMONT. - - _In your Country, where Women are allow’d the priveledge of - being seen and Address’d to, it wou’d be a Crime unpardonable - to Modesty, to make the first Advances. But here, where rigid - Rules are Bar’s, as well to Reason, as to Nature: It wou’d be - as great one, to feign an Infidelity of your Merit. I say, - feign, for I look on it, as an impossibility really to behold - you with Indifferency: But, if I cou’d believe that any of my - Sex were in good earnest so dull, I must confess, I shou’d Envy - that happy Stupidity, which wou’d secure me from the Pains - such a Passion, as you create, must Inflict; unless, from the - Millions whom your Charms have preach’d; you have yet a corner - of your Heart Unpreposess’d; and an Inclination willing to - receive the Impression of_, - - Your most Passionate and Tender, - (but ’till she receives a favourable Answer) - - Your unknown Adorer. - - [Illustration] - - LETTER II. - - To the Ungrateful D’ELMONT. - - _Unworthy of the Happiness design’d you! Is it thus, That - you return the Condescention of a Lady? How fabulous is - Report, which speaks those of your Country, warm and full - of amorous Desires?--Thou, sure, art colder than the bleak - northern Islanders--dull, stupid Wretch! Insensible of every - Passion which give Lustre to the Soul, and differ Man from - Brute!--Without Gratitude--Without Love--Without Desire--Dead, - even to Curiosity!--How I cou’d despise Thee for this - narrowness of Mind, were there not something in thy Eyes and - Mein which assure me, that this negligent Behaviour is but - affected; and that there are within thy Breast, some Seeds - of hidden Fire, which want but the Influence of Charms, more - potent perhaps, than you have yet beheld, to kindle into Blaze. - Make hast then to be Enliven’d, for I flatter my self ’tis in - my Power to work this wonder, and long to inspire so Lovely a - Form with Sentiments only worthy of it.--The Bearer of this, - is a Person who I dare Confide in--Delay not to come with him, - for when once you are Taught what ’tis to Love; you’ll not be - Ignorant that doubtful Expectation is the worst of Racks, and - from your own Experience. Pity what I feel, thus chill’d with - Doubt, yet burning with Desire._ - - Yours, Impatiently. - -The _Count_ was pretty much surpriz’d at the odd Turn of this _Billet_; -but being willing to put an End to the Ladies Trouble, as well as his -own; sat down, and without giving himself much Time to think, writ these -Lines in Answer to Hers. - - [Illustration] - - To the Fair INCOGNITA. - - MADAM, - - _If you have no other design in Writing to me, than your - DIVERSION, methinks my Mourning Habit, to which my Countenance - and Behaviour are no way Unconformable, might inform you, I am - little dispos’d for Raillery. If in EARNEST you can find any - thing in me which pleases you, I must confess my self entirely - unworthy of the Honour, not only by my personal Demerits, but - by the Resolution I have made, of Conversing with none of your - Sex while I continue in ITALY. I shou’d be sorry however to - incurr the Aspersion of an unmannerly Contemner of Favours, - which tho’ I do not DESIRE, I pretend not to DESERVE. I - therefore beg you will believe that I return this, as I did - your Former, only to let you see, that since I decline making - any use of your Condescentions to my Advantage; I am not - ungenerous enough to do so to your Prejudice, and to all Ladies - deserving the regard of a Disinterested Well-wisher; shall be - an_ - - Humble Servant, _D’Elmont_. - -The _Count_ order’d one of his Servants to deliver this Letter to the -Person who brought the other; but he return’d immediately with it in his -Hand, and told his Lordship that he cou’d not prevail on the Fellow to -take it; that he said he had business with the _Count_, and must needs -see him, and was so Importunate, that he seem’d rather to _Demand_, than -_Entreat_ a Grant of his Request. D’ELMONT was astonish’d, as well he -might, but commanded he should be admitted. - -Nothing cou’d be more comical than the appearance of this Fellow, he -seem’d to be about three-score Years of Age, but Time had not been the -greatest Enemy to his Face, for the Number of Scars, was far exceeding -that of Wrincles, he was tall above the common Stature, but so lean, -that, till he spoke, he might have been taken for one of those Wretches -who have pass’d the Hands of the Anatomists, nor wou’d his Walk have -dissipated that Opinion, for all his Motions, as he enter’d the Chamber, -had more of the Air of Clock-work, than of Nature; his Dress was not -less particular; he had on a Suit of Cloaths, which might perhaps have -been good in the Days of his Great Grand-father, but the Person who they -fitted must have been five times larger about the Body than him who wore -them; a large broad buff Belt however remedy’d that Inconvenience, and -girt them close about his Waste, in which hung a Faulchion, two Daggers, -and a Sword of a more than ordinary Extent; the rest of his Equipage was -a Cloak, which buttoning round his Neck fell not so low as his Hips, a -Hat, which in rainy weather kept his Shoulders dry much better than an -_Indian_ Umbrella, one Glove, and a formidable pair of Whiskers. As soon -as he saw the _Count_, my Lord, said he, with a very impudent Air, my -Orders were to bring your self, not a Letter from you, nor do I use to be -employ’d in Affairs of this Nature, but to serve one of the richest and -most beautiful Ladies in _Rome_, who I assure you, it will be dangerous -to disoblige. _D’elmont_ ey’d him intentively all the time he spoke, -and cou’d scarce, notwithstanding his Chagreen, forbear Laughing at the -Figure he made, and the manner of his Salutation. I know not, answer’d -he, Ironically, what Employments you have been us’d to, but certainly you -appear to me, one of the most unfit Persons in the World for what you -now undertake, and if the Contents of the Paper you brought me, had not -inform’d me of your Abilities this Way, I should never have suspected you -for one of _Cupid_’s Agents: You are merry, my Lord, reply’d the other, -but I must tell you, I am a Man of Family and Honour, and shall not put -up an Affront; but, continued he, shaking the few Hairs which frequent -Skirmishes had left upon his Head, I shall defer my own satisfaction -’till I have procur’d the Ladies; therefore, if your Lordship will -prepare to follow, I shall walk before, at a perceivable Distance, and -without St. _Peter_’s Key, open the Gate of Heaven. I should be apt (said -the _Count_, not able to keep his Countenance at these Words) rather to -take it for the other Place; but be it as it will; I have not the least -Inclination to make the Experiment, therefore, you may walk as soon as -you please without expecting me to accompany you. Then you absolutely -refuse to go (cry’d the Fellow, clapping his Hand on his Forhead, and -staring at him, as if he meant to scare him into Compliance!) Yes -(answer’d the _Count_, laughing more and more) I shall neither go, nor -waste any farther time or Words with you, so wou’d advise you not to be -saucy, or tarry till my Anger gets the better of my Mirth, but take the -Letter and be gone, and trouble me no more. The other, at these Words -laid his Hand on his Sword, and was about to make some very impudent -Reply, when _D’elmont_, growing weary of his Impertinence, made a Sign -to his Servants, that they should turn him out, which he perceiving, -took up the Letter without being bid a second time, and muttering some -unintelligible Curses between his Teeth, march’d out, in the same -affected Strut, with which he enter’d. - -This Adventure, tho’ surprizing enough to a Person so entirely -unacquainted with the Character and Behaviour of these _Bravo_’s, as -_D’elmont_ was, gave him but very little matter of Reflection, and it -being the time for Evening Service at St. _Peter_’s, he went, according -to his Custom, to hear _Vesper_’s there. - -Nothing is more Common, than for the Nobility and Gentry of _Rome_, -to divert themselves with Walking, and talking to one another in the -_Collonade_ after Mass, and the _Count_, tho’ averse to all other publick -Assemblies, wou’d sometimes spend an Hour or two there. - -As he was walking there this Evening, a Lady of a very gallant Mein -pass’d swiftly by him, and flurting out her Handkerchief with a careless -Air, as it were by Chance, drop’d an _Agnus Dei_ set round with Diamonds -at his Feet, he had too much Complaisance to neglect endeavouring to -overtake the Lady, and prevent the Pain he imagin’d she wou’d be in, -when she shou’d miss so rich a Jewel: But she, who knew well enough what -she had done, left the Walk where the Company were, and cross’d over -to the Fountain, which being more retir’d was the most proper for her -Design: She stood looking on the Water, in a thoughtful Posture, when -the _Count_ came up to her, and bowing, with an Air peculiar to himself, -and which all his Chagreen could not deprive of an irresistable Power of -attraction, Presented the _Agnus Dei_ to her. I think my self, Madam, -said he, highly indebted to Fortune, for making me the means of your -recovering a Jewel, the Loss of which wou’d certainly have given you -some disquiet: Oh Heavens! cry’d she, receiving it with an affected Air -of Surprize, could a Trifle like this, which I knew not that I had let -fall, nor perhaps shou’d have thought on more, cou’d this, and belonging -to a Woman too, meet the Regard of him, who prides in his Insensibility? -Him! Who has no Eyes for Beauty, nor no Heart for Love! As she spoke -these Words she contriv’d to let her Vail fall back as if by Accident, -and discover’d a Face, Beautiful even to Perfection! Eyes black and -sparkling, a Mouth form’d to Invite, a Skin dazlingly white, thro’ which -a most delightful Bloom diffus’d a chearful Warmth, and glow’d in amorous -Blushes on her Cheeks. The _Count_ could not forbear gazing on her -with Admiration, and perhaps, was, for a Moment, pretty near receeding -from that Insensibility she had reproach’d him with; but the Image of -MELLIORA, yet unenjoy’d, all ravishingly Kind and Tender, rose presently -in his Soul, fill’d all his Faculties, and left no Passage free for -rival Charms. Madam, said he after a little Pause, the _Italian_ Ladies -take care to skreen their too dazling Lustre behind a Cloud, and, if I -durst take that Liberty, have certainly reason to Tax your Accusation -of Injustice; he, on whom the Sun has never vouchsafed to shine, ought -not to be condemn’d for not acknowledging its brightness; yours is the -first Female Face I have beheld, since my Arrival here, and it wou’d have -been as ridiculous to have feign’d my self susceptible of Charms which -I had never seen, as it wou’d be Stupidity, not to confess those I now -do, worthy Adoration. Well, resum’d she smiling, if not the _Lover_’s, -I find, you know how to Act the _Courtier_’s Part, but continued she, -looking languishingly on him, all you can say, will scarce make me -believe, that there requires not a much brighter Sun than mine, to Thaw -a certain Frozen _Resolution_, you pretend to have made. There need no -more to confirm the _Count_ in the Opinion he had before conceiv’d, that -this was the Lady from whom he had receiv’d the two Letters that Day, -and thought he had now the fairest Opportunity in the World to put an -End to her Passion, by assuring her how impossible it was for him ever -to return it, and was forming an Answer to that purpose; when a pretty -deal of Company coming toward them, she drew her Vail over her Face, and -turning hastily from him, mingled with some Ladies, who seem’d to be of -her Acquaintance. - -The _Count_ knew by experience, the unutterable Perturbations of -Suspence, and what agonizing Tortures rend an amorous Soul, divided -betwixt Hope and Fear: Despair itself is not so Cruel as Uncertainty, -and in all Ills, especially in those of Love, it is less Misery to -_Know_, than _Dread_ the worst. The Remembrance of what he had suffer’d -thus agitated, in the Beginning of his Passion for _Melliora_, made him -extreamly pity the unknown Lady, and regret her sudden Departure; because -it had prevented him from setting her into so much of his Circumstances, -as he believ’d were necessary to induce her to recall her Heart. But -when he consider’d how much he had struggled, and how far he had been -from being able to repel Desire, he began to wonder that it cou’d ever -enter into his Thoughts that there was even a possibility for _Woman_, so -much stronger in her Fancy, and weaker in her Judgment, to suppress the -Influence of that powerful Passion; against which, no Laws, no Rules, no -Force of Reason, or Philosophy, are sufficient Guard. - -These Reflections gave no small Addition to his Melancholy; _Amena_’s -Retirement from the World; _Alovisa_’s Jealousy and Death; _Melliora_’s -Peace of Mind and Reputation, and the Despair of several, whom he was -sensible, the Love of him, had rendred miserable, came fresh into his -Memory, and he look’d on himself as most unhappy, in being the occasion -of making others so. - -The Night which succeeded this Day of Adventures, chancing to be abroad -pretty late; as he was passing thro’ a Street, he heard a Clashing of -Swords, and going nearer to the place where the Noise was, he perceiv’d -by some Lights which glimmer’d from a distant Door, a Gentleman defending -himself with much Bravery against Three, who seem’d eager for his Death. -_D’elmont_ was mov’d to the highest Indignation at the sight of such -Baseness; and drawing his Sword, flew furiously on the Assassins, just as -one of them was about to run his Sword into the Breast of the Gentleman; -who, by the breaking of his own Blade, was left unarm’d. _Turn Villain_, -cry’d D’elmont, _or while you are acting that Inhumanly, receive the -just Reward of it from me_. The Ruffian fac’d about immediately, and made -a Pass at him, while one of his Comrades did the same on the other side; -and the third was going to execute on the Gentleman, what his fellows -Surprize had made him leave undone: But he now gain’d Time to pull a -Pistol out of his Pocket, with which he shot him in a Moment dead, and -snatching his Sword from him as he fell, ran to assist the _Count_, who -’tis likely wou’d have stood in need of it, being engag’d with two, and -those the most desparate sort of _Bravo’s_, Villains that make a Trade -of Death. But the Noise of the Pistol made them apprehensive there was a -farther Rescue, and put ’em to flight. The Gentleman seem’d agitated with -a more than ordinary Fury; and instead of staying to Thank the _Count_, -or enquire how he had escap’d, ran in pursuit of those who had assaulted -him, so swiftly, that it was in vain for the _Count_, not being well -acquainted with the Turnings of the Streets, to attempt to follow him, if -he had a Mind to it: But seeing there was a Man kill’d, and not knowing -either the Persons who fought, or the occasion of their Quarrel, he -rightly judg’d, that being a Stranger in the place, his Word wou’d not be -very readily taken in his own Vindication; therefore thought his wisest -Course wou’d be to make off, with what Speed he cou’d, to his Lodging. -While he was considering, he saw something on the Ground which glitter’d -extreamly; and taking it up, found that it was part of the Sword which -the assaulted Gentleman had the Misfortune to have broke: The Hilt was of -a fine Piece of Agate, set round on the Top with Diamonds, which made him -believe the Person whom he had preserv’d, was of considerable Quality, as -well as Bravery. - -He had not gone many Paces from the place where the Skirmish happened, -before a Cry of Murder met his Ears, and a great Concourse of People -his Eyes: He had receiv’d two or three slight Wounds, which, tho’ not -much more than Skin-deep, had made his Linnen bloody, and he knew wou’d -be sufficient to make him be apprehended, if he were seen, which it was -very difficult to avoid: He was in a narrow Street, which had no Turning, -and the Crowd was very near him, when looking round him with a good deal -of Vexation in his Thoughts, he discern’d a Wall, which in one part of -it seem’d pretty low: He presently resolv’d to climb it, and trust to -Fortune for what might befall him on the other side, rather than stay -to be expos’d to the Insults of the Outrageous Mob; who, ignorant of -his Quality, and looking no farther than the outside of Things, wou’d -doubtless have consider’d him no otherwise, than a Midnight _Rioter_. - -When he was got over the Wall, he found himself in a very fine Garden, -adorn’d with Fountains, Statues, Groves, and every Ornament, that Art, -or Nature, cou’d produce, for the Delight of the Owner: At the upper End -there was a Summer-house, into which he went, designing to stay ’till the -Search was over. - -But He had not been many Moments in his Concealment before he saw a Door -open from the House, and two Women come out; they walk’d directly up to -the place where he was; he made no doubt but that they design’d to enter, -and retir’d into the farthest Corner of it: As they came pretty near, -he found they were earnest in Discourse, but cou’d understand nothing -of what they said, ’till she, who seem’d to be the Chief, raising her -Voice a little higher than she had done: Talk no more, _Brione_ said -she, if e’re thy Eyes are Blest to see this Charmer of my Soul, thou -wil’t cease to wonder at my Passion; great as it is, ’tis wanting of -his Merit.----Oh! He is more than Raptur’d Poets feign, or Fancy can -invent! Suppose Him so, (_cry’d the other_,) yet still he wants that -Charm which shou’d Endear the others to you---Softness,---Heavens! To -Return your Letters! To Insult your Messenger! To slight such Favours as -any Man of Soul wou’d die to obtain! Methinks such Usage shou’d make -him odious to you,---even I shou’d scorn so spiritless a Wretch. Peace, -thou Prophaner, _said the Lady in an angry Tone_, such Blasphemy deserves -a Stab----But thou hast never heard his Voice, nor seen his Eyes, and I -forgive Thee. Have you then spoke to him, _interrupted the Confidant_, -Yes, _answer’d the Lady_, and by that Conversation, am more undone than -ever; it was to tell thee this Adventure, I came to Night into this -agreeable Solitude. With these Words they came into the Summer-house, -and the Lady seating her self on a Bench; Thou know’st, _resum’d she_, I -went this Evening to Saint _Peter_’s, there I saw the glorious Man; saw -him in all his Charms; and while I bow’d my Knee, in show to Heaven, my -Soul was prostrate only to him. When the Ceremony was over, perceiving -he stay’d in the _Collonade_, I had no power to leave it, but stood, -regardless who observ’d me, gazing on him with Transports, which only -those who Love like me, can guess!---God! With what an Air he walk’d! -What new Attractions dwelt in every Motion---And when he return’d the -Salutes of any that pass’d by him, how graceful was his Bow! How lofty -his Mein, and yet, how affable!----A sort of an inexpressible awful -Grandeur, blended with tender Languishments, strikes the amaz’d Beholder -at once with Fear and Joy!---Something beyond Humanity shines round him! -Such looks descending Angels wear, when sent on Heavenly Embassies to -some Favourite Mortal! Such is their Form! Such Radient Beams they dart; -and with such Smiles they temper their Divinity with Softness!---Oh! With -what Pain did I restrain my self from flying to him! from rushing into -his Arms! From hanging on his Neck, and wildly uttering all the furious -Wishes of my burning Soul!-----I trembled-----panted----rag’d with inward -Agonies. Nor was all the Reason I cou’d muster up, sufficient to bear me -from his Sight, without having first spoke to him. To that end I ventur’d -to pass by him, and drop’d an _Agnus Dei_ at his Feet, believing that -wou’d give him an Occasion of following me, which he did immediately, and -returning it to me, discover’d a new Hoard of unimagin’d Charms----All my -fond Soul confess’d before of his Perfections, were mean to what I now -beheld! Had’st thou but seen how he approach’d me--with what an awful -Reverence---with what a soft beseeching, yet commanding Air, he kiss’d -the happy Trifle, as he gave it me, thou would’st have envy’d it as -well as I! At last he spoke, and with an Accent so Divine, that if the -sweetest Musick were compar’d to the more Celestial Harmony of his Voice, -it wou’d only serve to prove how vastly _Nature_ do’s excell all _Art_. -But, Madam, _cry’d the other_, I am impatient to know the End of this -Affair; for I presume you discover’d to him both what, and who you were? -My Face only, reply’d the Lady, for e’re I had opportunity to do more, -that malicious Trifler, _Violetta_, perhaps envious of my Happiness, -came toward us with a Crowd of Impertinents at her Heels. Curse on the -Interruption, and broke off our Conversation, just at that Blest, but -Irrecoverable Moment, when I perceiv’d in my Charming Conqueror’s Eyes, -a growing Tenderness, sufficient to encourage me to reveal my own. -Yes, _Brione_, those lovely Eyes, while fix’d on mine, shone, with a -Lustre, uncommon, even to themselves---A livelier Warmth o’erspread his -Cheeks----Pleasure sat smiling on his Lips----those Lips, my Girl, which -even when they are silent, speak; but when unclos’d, and the sweet Gales -of balmy Breath blow on you, he kills you in a Sigh; each hurry’d Sense -is ravish’d and your Soul glows with Wonder and Delight. Oh! To be forc’d -to leave him in this Crisis, when new desire began to dawn; when Love its -most lively Symptoms was apparent, and seem’d to promise all my Wishes -covet, what Separation ever was so cruel? Compose your self, dear Madam, -said _Brione_, if he be really in Love; as who so Insensible as not to be -so, that once has seen your Charms? That _Love_ will teach him speedily -to find out an opportunity as favourable as that which you have lately -miss’d; or if he shou’d want Contrivance to procure his own Happiness, -’tis but your writing to appoint a Meeting. He must---He shall be mine! -Cry’d the Lady in a Rapture, My Love, fierce as it was before, from Hope -receives Addition to its Fury; I rave---I burn---I am mad with wild -Desires---I die, _Brione_, if I not possess him. In speaking these Words, -she threw her self down on a Carpet which was spread upon the Floor; and -after sighing two or three times, continued to discover the Violence of -her impatient Passion in this manner: Oh that this Night, said she, were -past,---the Blisful Expectation of to morrows Joys, and the distracting -Doubts of Disappointment, swell my unequal beating Heart by turns, and -rack me with Vicissitudes of Pain-----I cannot live and bear it----soon -as the Morning breaks, I’ll know my Doom----I’ll send to him----but -’tis an Age till then----Oh that I cou’d sleep---Sleep might perhaps -anticipate the Blessing, and bring him in Idea to my Arms----but ’tis in -vain to hope one Moment’s cool Serenity in Love like mine--my anxious -Thoughts hurry my Senses in Eternal Watchings!---Oh _D’elmont! D’elmont!_ -Tranquill, Cold, and Calm _D’elmont!_ Little doest thou guess the Tempest -thou hast rais’d within my Soul, nor know’st to pity these consuming -Fires! - -The _Count_ list’ned to all this Discourse with a World of Uneasiness and -Impatience; and tho’ at the first he fancy’d he remember’d the Voice, and -had Reason enough from the beginning, especially when the _Agnus Dei_ was -mention’d, to believe it cou’d be no other than himself, whom the Lady -had so passionately describ’d; yet he had not Confidence to appear till -she had nam’d him; but then, no consideration was of force to make him -neglect this opportunity of undeceiving her; his good Sense, as well as -good Nature, kept him from that Vanity, too many of his Sex imitate the -weaker in, of being pleas’d that it was in his Power to create Pains, -which it was not in his Power, so devoted as he was, to Ease. - -He stept from his Retirement as softly as he cou’d, because he was -loath to alarm them with any Noise, ’till they shou’d discover who it -was that made it, which they might easily do, in his advancing toward -them never so little, that part of the Bower being much lighter than -that where he had stood; but with his over-caution in sliding his Feet -along, to prevent being heard, one of them tangled in the Corner of the -Carpet, which happened not to lie very smooth, and not being sensible -presently what it was that Embarrass’d him: He fell with part of his -Body cross the Lady, and his Head in _Brione_’s Lap, who was sitting -on the Ground by her. The Manner of his Fall was lucky enough, for it -hinder’d either of them from rising, and running to alarm the Family, -as certainly in such a fright they wou’d have done, if his Weight had -not detain’d them; they both gave a great Shriek, but the House being -at a good distance, they cou’d not easily be heard; and he immediately -recovering himself, beg’d Pardon for the Terror he had occasion’d them; -and addressing to the Lady, who at first was dying with her Fears, and -now with Consternation: _D’elmont_, Madam, said he, cou’d not have had -the Assurance to appear before you, after hearing those undeserv’d -Praises your Excess of Goodness has been pleas’d to bestow upon him, but -that his Soul wou’d have reproach’d him of the highest Ingratitude, in -permitting you to continue longer in an Error, which may involve you in -the greatest of Misfortunes, at least I am----As he was speaking, three -or four Servants with Lights came running from the House; and the Lady, -tho’ in more Confusion than can be well exprest, had yet Presence of -Mind enough to bid the _Count_ retire to the place where he had stood -before, while she and _Brione_ went out of the Summer-house to learn -the Cause of this Interruption: Madam, cry’d one of the Servants, -as soon as he saw her, the Officers of Justice are within; who being -rais’d by an Alarm of Murther, come to beg your Ladyships Permission -to search your Garden, being, as they say, inform’d that the Offender -made his Escape over this Wall. ’Tis very improbable, reply’d the Lady, -for I have been here a considerable Time, and have neither heard the -least Noise, nor seen any Body: However they may search, and satisfy -themselves----go you, and tell them so. Then turning to the _Count_, when -she had dismiss’d her Servants; My Lord, said she Trembling, I know not -what strange Adventure brought you here to Night, or whether you are the -Person for whom the Search is made; but am sensible, if you are found -here, it will be equally injurious to your Safety, and my Reputation; I -have a Back-door, thro’ which you may pass in Security: But, if you have -Honour, (continu’d she) Sighing, Gratitude, or good Nature, you will let -me see you to morrow Night. Madam, (reply’d he,) assure your self that -there are not many things I more earnestly desire than an opportunity to -convince you, how sensibly I am touch’d with your Favours, and how much -I regret my want of Power to---you, (interrupted she,) can want nothing -but the _Will_ to make me the happiest of my Sex---but this is no Time -for you to _Give_, or me to _Receive_ any Proofs of that Return which I -expect----Once more I conjure you to be here to morrow Night at Twelve, -where the Faithful _Brione_ shall attend to admit you. Farewell---be -punctual and sincere--’Tis all I ask---when I am not, (answer’d he,) may -all my Hopes forsake me. By this time they were come to the Door, which -_Brione_, opening softly, let him out, and shut it again immediately. - -The _Count_ took care to Remark the place that he might know it again, -resolving nothing more than to make good his Promise at the appointed -Hour, but cou’d not help being extreamly troubled, when he consider’d -how unwelcome his Sincerity wou’d be, and the Confusion he must give -the Lady, when instead of those Raptures the Violence of her mistaken -Passion made her hope, she shou’d meet with only cold Civility, and the -killing History of the Pre-engagement of his Heart. In these and the -like melancholly Reflections he spent the Night; and when Morning came, -receiv’d the severest Augmentation of them, which Fate cou’d load him -with. - -It was scarce full Day when a Servant came into his Chamber to acquaint -him, that a young Gentleman, a Stranger, desir’d to be admitted, and -seem’d so impatient till he was, That, said the Fellow, not knowing of -what Consequence his Business may be, I thought it better to Risque your -Lordship’s Displeasure for this early Disturbance, than by dismissing -him, fill you with an unsatisfy’d Curiosity. The _Count_ was far from -being Angry, and commanded that the Gentleman should be brought up, which -Order being immediately obey’d, and the Servant withdrawn out of Respect: -Putting his Head out of the Bed, he was surpriz’d with the Appearance of -one of the most beautiful _Chevaliers_ he had ever beheld, and in whose -Face, he imagin’d he trac’d some Features not Unknown to him. Pardon, -me Sir, said he, throwing the Curtains more back than they were before, -that I receive the Honour you do me, in this manner---but being ignorant -of your Name, Quality, the Reason of your desire to see me, or any thing -but your Impatience to do so, in gratifying that, I fear, I have injur’d -the Respect, which I believe, is due, and which, I am sure, my Heart -is inclinable to pay to you. Visits, like mine, reply’d the Stranger, -require but little Ceremony, and I shall easily remit that Respect you -talk of, while I am unknown to you, provided you will give me one Mark of -it, that I shall ask of you, when you do. There are very few, reply’d -_D’elmont_, that I cou’d refuse to one, whose Aspect Promises to deserve -so many. First then, cry’d the other pretty warmly, I demand a Sister -of you, and not only her, but a Reparation of her Honour, which can be -done no otherwise than by your Blood. It is impossible to represent the -_Count_’s astonishment at these Words, but conscious of his Innocence -in any such Affair: I shou’d be sorry _Seignior_, said he cooly, that -Precipitation should hurry you to do any Action you wou’d afterwards -Repent; you must certainly be mistaken in the Person to whom you are -talking--Yet, if I were rash like you, what fatal Consequences might -ensue; but there is something in your Countenance which engages me to -wish a more friendly Interview than what you speak of: Therefore wou’d -persuade you to consider calmly, and you will soon find, and acknowledge -your Mistake; and, to further that Reflection, I assure you, that I am -so far from Conversing with any Lady, in the Manner you seem to hint, -that I scarcely know the Name, or Face of any one.---Nay, more, I give -you my Word, to which I joyn my Honour, that, as I never _have_, I never -_will_ make the least Pretensions of that kind to any Woman during the -Time of my Residence here. This poor Evasion, reply’d the Stranger -with a Countenance all inflam’d, ill suits a Man of Honour.---This is -no _Roman_, no, _Italian Bono-Roba_, who I mean----but _French_ like -you----like both of us.----And if your Ingratitude had not made it -necessary for your Peace, to erace all Memory of _Monsieur Frankville_, -you wou’d before now, by the near resemblance I bear to him, have known -me for his Son, and that ’tis _Melliora_’s---the fond---the lost---the -ruin’d _Melliora_’s Cause which calls for Vengeance from her Brother’s -Arm! Never was any Soul agitated with more violent Emotions, than that of -Count _D’elmont_ at these Words. Doubt, Grief, Resentment, and Amazement, -made such a Confusion in his Thoughts, that he was unable for some -Moments to answer this cruel Accusation; and when he did, the Brother -of _Melliora_ said he with a deep Sigh, wou’d certainly have been, next -to her self, the most welcome Person upon Earth to me; and my Joy to -have Embrac’d him as the dearest of my Friends, at least have equall’d -the Surprize I am in, to find him without Cause, my Enemy.---But, Sir, -if such a Favour may be granted to an unwilling Foe, I wou’d desire to -know, Why you joyn _Ruin_ to your Sisters Name? Oh! Give me Patience -Heaven, cry’d young _Frankville_ more enrag’d; is this a Question fit -for you to ask, or me to Answer? Is not her Honour Tainted---Fame -betray’d.---Her self a Vagabond, and her House abus’d, and all by you; -the unfaithful Guardian of her injur’d Innocence?---And can you ask the -Cause?----No, rather rise this Moment, and if you are a Man, who dare -maintain the ill you have done, defend it with your Sword; not with vain -Words and Womanish Excuses: All the other Passions which had warr’d -within _D’elmont_’s Breast, now gave way to Indignation: Rash young -Man, said he, jumping hastily out of the Bed, and beginning to put his -Cloaths on: Your Father wou’d not thus have us’d me; nor, did he Live, -cou’d blame me, for vindicating as I ought my wounded Honour----That I -do Love your Sister, is as True, as that you have wrong’d me---Basely -wrong’d me. But that her Virtue suffers by that Love, is false! And I -must write the Man that speaks it, _Lyar_, tho’ in her Brother’s Heart. -Many other violent Expressions to the same Effect, pass’d between them, -while the _Count_ was dressing himself, for he wou’d suffer no Servant to -come in, to be Witness of his Disorder. But the steady Resolution with -which he had attested his Innocence, and that inexpressible sweetness of -Deportment, equally Charming to both Sexes, and which, not even _Anger_ -cou’d render less graceful, extreamly cool’d the Heat _Frankville_ had -been in a little before, and he in secret, began to recede very much -from the ill Opinion he had conceiv’d, tho’ the greatness of his Spirit -kept him from acknowledging he had been in an Error; ’till chancing to -cast his Eyes on a Table which stood in the Chamber, he saw the hilt of -the broken Sword which _D’elmont_ had brought home the Night before, -lying on it; he took it up, and having first look’d on it with some -Confusion in his Countenance. My Lord, said he, turning to the _Count_, -I conjure you, before we proceed further, to acquaint me truely, how -this came into your Possession, Tho’ _D’elmont_ had as great a Courage, -when any laudable Occasion appear’d to call it forth, as any Man that -ever liv’d, yet his natural Disposition had such an uncommon Sweetness -in it, as no Provocation cou’d sowre; it was always a much greater -Pleasure to him to _Forgive_ than _Punish_ Injuries; and if at any time -he was _Angry_, he was never _Rude_, or _Unjust_. The little starts of -Passion, _Frankville_’s rash Behaviour had occasion’d, all dissolv’d -in his more accustomary Softness, when he perceiv’d the other growing -Calm. And answering to his Question, with the most obliging Accent in -the World: It was my good Fortune, (said he) to be instrumental last -Night, in the Rescue of a Gentleman who appear’d to have much Bravery, -and being Attack’d by odds, behav’d himself in such a Manner, as wou’d -have made him stand but little in need of my Assistance, if his Sword -had been equal to the Arm which held it; but the breaking of that, gave -me the Glory of not being unserviceable to him. After the Skirmish was -over, I took it up, hoping it might be the means sometime or other of -my discovering who the Person was, who wore it; not out of Vanity of -receiving Thanks for the little I have done, but that I shou’d be glad of -the Friendship of a Person, who seems so worthy my Esteem. Oh far! (cry’d -_Frankville_, with a Tone and Gesture quite alter’d,) infinitely far from -it--It was my self whom you preserv’d; that very Man whose Life you but -last Night so generously redeem’d, with the hazard of your own, comes -now prepar’d to make the first use of it against you---Is it possible -that you can be so heavenly good to Pardon my wild Passions Heat? Let -this be witness, with what Joy I do, answer’d the _Count_, tenderly -Embracing him, which the other eagerly returning; they continu’d lock’d -in each others Arms for a considerable Time, neither of them being able -to say more, than---And was it _Frankville_ I Preserv’d!----And was it to -_D’elmont_ I owe my Life! - -After this mutual Demonstration of a perfect Reconcilement was over: See -here, my Lord, said _Frankville_, giving a Paper to the _Count_, the -occasion of my Rashness, and let my just concern for a Sisters Honour, -be at least some little Mittigation of my Temerity, in accosting your -Lordship in so rude a Manner. _D’elmont_ made no Answer, but looking -hastily over the Paper found it contain’d these Words. - - [Illustration] - - To Monsieur FRANKVILLE. - - _While your Sisters Dishonour was known but to few, and the - injurious Destroyer of it, out of the reach of your Revenge; - I thought it would ill become the Friendship I have always - profess’d to your Family, to disquiet you with the Knowledge of - a Misfortune, which it was no way in your Power to Redress._ - - _But Count D’elmont, having by the Solicitation of his Friends, - and the remembrance of some slight Services, obtain’d a Pardon - from the KING, for the Murder of his Wife; has since taken but - little care to conceal the Reasons which induc’d him to that - barbarous Action; and all PARIS is now sensible that he made - that unhappy Lady’s Life a Sacrifice to the more attractive - Beauties of MELLIORA, in bloody Recompence for the Sacrifice - she had before made him of her Virtue._ - - _In short, the Noble Family of the Frankvilles is for ever - dishonour’d by this Unfaithful GUARDIAN; and all who wish you - well, rejoice to hear that his ill Genius has led him to a - place which, if he knew you were at, certainly Prudence wou’d - make him of all others most avoid; for none believes you will - so far degenerate from the Spirit of your Ancestors, as to - permit him to go unpunish’d._ - - _In finding the COUNT, you may probably find your Sister too; - for tho’, after the Death of ALOVISA, shame made her retire to - a Monastry, she has since privately left it without acquainting - the ABBESS, or any of the Sisterhood, with her Departure; nor - is it known to any one, where, or for what Cause she absconds; - but most People imagine, as indeed it is highly reasonable, - that the Violence of her guilty Passion for D’ELMONT has - engag’d her to follow him._ - - _I am not unsensible how much I shock your Temper by this - Relation, but have too much real concern for your Honour, to - endure you shou’d, thro’ Ignorance of your Wrongs, remain - Passive in such a Cause, and perhaps hug the Treacherous Friend - in your most strict Embrace? Nor can I forbear, tho’ I love - not Blood, urging you to take that just Revenge, which next to - Heaven you have the greatest Claim to._ - - I am, Sir, with all due Respect, - - Yours, _Sanseverin_. - -The _Count_ swell’d with Indignation at every Paragraph of this malicious -Letter; but when he came to that, which mention’d _Melliora_’s having -withdrawn her self from the Monastry, he seem’d to be wholly abandon’d -by his Reason; all Endeavours to represent his Agonies wou’d be vain, -and none but those who have felt the same, can have any Notion of what -he suffer’d. He read the fatal Scroll again and again, and every time -grew wilder than before; he stamp’d, bit his Lips, look’d furiously -about him, then, starting from the place where he had stood, measur’d -the Room in strange, disorder’d, and unequal Paces; all his Motions, -all his Looks, all his Air were nothing but Distraction: He spoke not -for some time, one Word, either prevented by the rising Passions in -his Soul, or because it was not in the Power of Language to express -the greatness of his Meaning; and when, at last, he open’d his Mouth, -it was but to utter half Sentences, and broken Complainings: Is it -possible, he cry’d,----gone,---left the Monastry unknown---and then -again----false----false Woman?----Wretched----wretched Man! There’s no -such Thing on Earth as Faith---is this the Effect of all her tender -Passion?--So soon forgot---what can be her Reason?---This Action suits -not with her Words, or Letters. In this manner he rav’d with a Thousand -such like Breathings of a tormented Spirit, toss’d and confounded between -various Sentiments. - -Monsieur _Frankville_ stood for a good while silently observing him; and -if before, he were not perfectly assur’d of his Innocence, the Agonies he -now saw him in, which were too natural to be suspected for Counterfeit, -entirely convinc’d him he was so. When the first gust of Passion was -blown over, and he perceiv’d any likelyhood of being heard, he said a -Thousand tender and obliging Things to perswade him to Moderation, but -to very little Effect, till finding, that that which gave him the most -stinging Reflection was, the Belief that _Melliora_ had forsook the -Monastry, either because she thought of him no more, and was willing to -divert her enfranchis’d Inclination with the Gaieties of the Town, or -that some happier Man had supplanted him in her Esteem. Judge not, my -Lord, (said he) so rashly of my Sister’s Fidelity, nor know so little of -your own unmatch’d Perfections, as to suspect that she, who is Blest with -your Affection, can consider any other Object as worthy her Regard; For -my part, since your Lordship _knows_, and I firmly _believe_, that this -Letter contains a great many Untruths, I see no Reason why we should not -imagine it all of a piece: I declare I think it much more improbable that -she should leave the Monastry, unless sollicited thereto by you, than -that she had the Power to deny you any thing your Passion might request. -The _Count_’s Disorder visibly abated at this Remonstrance; and stepping -hastily to his Cabinet, he took out the last Letter he receiv’d from -_Melliora_, and found it was dated but two Days before that from Monsieur -_Sanseverin_; he knew she had not Art, nor was accustom’d to endeavour -to disguise her Sentiments; and she had written so many tender things in -that, as when he gave himself leave to consider, he could not, without -believing her to be either the most Dissembling, or most fickle of her -Sex, continue in the Opinion which had made him, a few Moments before, -so uneasy, that she was no longer, what she always subscrib’d her self, -_Entirely His_. - -The Tempest of Rage and Grief being hush’d to a little more Tranquillity, -Count _D’elmont_, to remove all Scruples which might be _yet_ remaining -in the Breast of Monsieur _Frankville_, entertain’d him with the whole -History of his Adventures, from the Time of his Gallantry with _Amena_, -to the Misfortunes which had induc’d him to Travel, disguising nothing -of the Truth, but some part of the Discourses which had pass’d between -him and _Melliora_ that Night when he surpriz’d her in her Bed, and in -the Wilderness: For tho’ he freely confess’d the Violence of his own -unbounded Passion, had hurry’d him beyond all Considerations but those of -gratifying it; yet he was too tender of _Melliora_’s Honour, to relate -anything of her, which her Modesty might not acknowledge, without the -Expence of a Blush. - -_Frankville_ list’ned with abundance of Attention to the Relation he made -him, and could find very little in his Conduct to accuse: He was himself -too much susceptible of the Power of Love, not to have Compassion for -those that suffer’d by it, and had too great a share of good Sense not to -know that, that Passion is not to be Circumscrib’d; and being not only, -not _Subservient_, but absolutely _Controller_ of the _Will_, it would be -meer Madness, as well as ill Nature, to say a Person was Blame-worthy for -what was unavoidable. - -When Love once becomes in our Power, it ceases to be worthy of that -Name; no Man really possest with it, _can_ be Master of his Actions; -and whatever Effects it may Enforce, are no more to be Condemn’d, than -Poverty, Sickness, Deformity, or any other Misfortune incident to Humane -Nature. Methinks there is nothing more absur’d than the Notions of some -People, who in other Things are wise enough too; but wanting Elegance of -Thought, Delicacy, or Tenderness of Soul, to receive the Impression of -that harmonious Passion, look on those to be mad, who have any Sentiments -elevated above their own, and either Censure, or Laugh, at what they are -not refin’d enough to comprehend. These _Insipids_, who know nothing of -the Matter, tell us very gravely, that we _ought_ to Love with Moderation -and Discretion,---and take Care that it is for our Interest,--that we -should never place our Affections, but where Duty leads, or at least, -where neither Religion, Reputation, or Law, may be a Hindrance to our -Wishes.---Wretches! We know all this, as well as they; we know too, -that we both do, and leave undone many other Things, which we ought -not; but Perfection is not to be expected on this side the Grave: And -since ’tis impossible for Humanity to avoid Frailties of some kind or -other, those are certainly least blamable, which spring only from a too -great Affluence of the nobler Spirits. _Covetousness_, _Envy_, _Pride_, -_Revenge_, are the Effects of an Earthly, Base, and Sordid Nature, -_Ambition_, and _Love_, of an Exalted one; and if they are Failings, they -are such as plead their own Excuse, and can never want Forgiveness from -a generous Heart, provided no indirect Courses are taken to procure the -Ends of the _former_, nor Inconstancy, or Ingratitude, stain the Beauty -of the _latter_. - -Notwithstanding all that Monsieur _Frankville_ could say, the _Count_, -tho’ not in the Rage of Temper he had been in, was yet very melancholly; -which the other perceiving, Alas, my Lord, said he Sighing, if you were -sensible of the Misfortunes of others, you would think your own more -easy to be born: You Love, and are Belov’d; no Obstacle remains between -you and your Desires; but the Formality of Custom, which a little time -will Remove, and at your return to _Paris_ you will doubtless be happy, -if ’tis in my Sister’s Power to make you so: You have a sure Prospect of -Felicity to _come_, but mine is _past_, never, I fear, to be retriev’d. -What mean you? Cry’d the _Count_ pretty much surpriz’d at his Words, -and the Change which he observ’d in his Countenance; I am in Love! -Reply’d He, Belov’d! Nay, have Enjoy’d----Ay, there’s the Source of my -Despair----I know the Heaven I have lost, and that’s my Hell.----The -Interest _D’elmont_ had in his Concerns, as being Son to the Man whom he -had loved with a kind of filial Affection, and Brother to the Woman whom -he ador’d above the World, made him extreamly desirous to know what the -Occasion of his Disquiet was, and having exprest himself to that purpose; -I shall make no Difficulty, reply’d _Frankville_, to reveal the Secret -of my Love, to him who is a Lover, and knows so well, how to pity, and -forgive, the Errors which that Passion will sometimes lead us into. The -_Count_ was too impatient to hear the Relation he was about to give him, -to make any other Answer to these Words than with a half Smile; which -the other perceiving, without any farther Prelude, began to satisfy his -Curiosity in this manner. - - -_The History of Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE. - -You know, my Lord, said he, that I was bred at _Rheims_ with my Uncle, -the Bishop of that Place, and continu’d with him, till after, prompted -by Glory, and hope of that Renown you have since so gallantly acquir’d; -you left the Pleasures of the _Court_ for the Fatigues and Dangers of the -Field: When I came home, I never ceas’d solliciting my Father to permit -me to Travel, ’till weary’d with my continual Importunies, and perhaps, -not much displeas’d with my Thirst of Improvement, he at last gave -leave. I left _Paris_ a little before the Conclusion of the Peace, and -by that means remain’d wholly a Stranger to your Lordship’s Person, tho’ -perfectly acquainted with those admirable Accomplishments which Fame is -every where so full of. - -I have been in the Courts of _England_, _Spain_, and _Portugal_, but -nothing very material hapning to me in any of those Places, it would -be rather Impertinent, than Diverting, to defer, for Trifles, the main -Business of my Life, that of my Love, which had not a Being ’till I came -into this City. - -I had been here but a little Time before I had a great many Acquaintance, -among the Number of them, was Seignior _Jaques Honorius Cittolini_: He, -of all the rest, I was most intimate with; and tho’ to the Generality -of People he behav’d himself with an Air of Imperiousness, he was to -me, all free, and easy; he seem’d as if he took a Pleasure in Obliging -me; carry’d me every where with him; introduc’d me to the best Company: -When I was absent he spoke of me, as of a Person who he had the highest -Esteem for; and when I was present, if there were any in Company whose -rank oblig’d him to place them above me in the _Room_; he took care to -testify that I was not below them in his _Respect_; in fine, he was never -more happy than when he was giving me some Proof how much he was my -Friend; and I was not a little satisfy’d that a Man of almost twice my -Years should believe me qualify’d for his Companion in such a manner as -he made me. - -When the melancholly Account of my Fathers Death came to my Ears, he -omitted nothing to persuade me to sell my Estate in _France_, and settle -in _Rome_; he told me he had a Daughter, whose Heart had been the aim of -the chiefest Nobility; but that he wou’d buy my Company at that Price and -to keep me here, wou’d give me her. This Proposition was not altogether -so pleasing to me, as perhaps, he imagin’d it wou’d be: I had heard much -Talk or this Lady’s Beauty, but I had never seen her; and at that Time, -Love was little in my Thoughts, especially that sort which was to end in -Marriage. However, I wou’d not absolutely refuse his Offer, but evaded -it, which I had the better pretence for, because _Violetta_, (so was -his Daughter call’d) was gone to _Vitterbo_ to Visit a sick Relation, -and I cou’d not have the opportunity of seeing her. In the mean time, -he made me acquainted with his deepest Secrets; among many other Things -he told me, that tho’ their Family was one of the greatest in _Rome_, -yet by the too great Liberality of his Father, himself and one Sister -was left with very little to Support the Grandeur of their Birth; but -that his Sister who was acknowledg’d a Woman of an uncommon Beauty, had -the good Fortune to appear so, to Seignior _Marcarius Fialasco_: he -was the possessor of immense Riches, but very Old; but the young Lady -found Charms enough in his Wealth to ballance all other Deficiencies; -She Married, and Buried him in a Month’s Time, and he dy’d so full of -fondness to his lovely Bride; that he left her Mistress of all he had -in the World; giving only to a Daughter he had by a former Wife, the -Fortune which her Mother had brought him, and that too, and herself to be -dispos’d of, in Marriage, as this Triumphant Widow should think fit; and -she, like a kind Sister, thought none worthy of that Alliance, but her -Brother; and in a few Days he said, he did not doubt but that I shou’d -see him a Bridegroom. I ask’d him if he was happy enough to have made -an Interest in the young Lady’s Heart; and he very frankly answer’d, -That he was not of a Humour to give himself much uneasiness about it, -since it was wholly in his Sister’s Power to make him Master of her -Person, and she resolv’d to do that, or Confine her in a Monastry for -ever. I cou’d not help feeling a Compassionate concern for this Lady, -tho’ she was a Stranger to me, for I cou’d not believe, so Beautiful -and accomplish’d a Woman, as he had often describ’d her to be, cou’d -find any thing in her design’d Husband which cou’d make this Match -agreeable. Nothing can be more different from Graceful, than the Person -of _Cittolini_; he is of a black swarthy Complexion, hook’d-Nos’d, wall -Ey’d, short of Stature; and tho’ he is very Lean, the worst shap’d Man -I ever saw; then for his Temper, as friendly as he behav’d to me, I -discern’d a great deal of Treachery, and Baseness in it to others; a -perpetual peevishness and Pride appear’d in his Deportment to all those -who had any dependance on him: And I had been told by some who knew him -perfectly well, that his cruel Usage of his first Lady had been the means -of her Death; but this was none of my Business, and tho’ I pity’d the -Lady, yet my gratitude to him engag’d me to wish him Success in all his -Undertakings. ’Till one Day, unluckily both for him and me, as it has -since prov’d; he desir’d me to Accompany him to the House of _Ciamara_, -for so is his Sister call’d, being, willing I suppose, that I shou’d -be a Witness of the extraordinary State she liv’d in; and indeed, in -all the Courts I had been at, I never saw any thing more Magnificent -than her Apartments; the vast quantity of Plate; the Richness of the -Furniture; and the number of Servants attending on Her, might have -made her be taken rather for a Princess, than a private Woman. There -was a very noble Collation, and she sat at Table with us her self, a -particular Favour from an _Italian_ Lady: She is by many Years younger -than her Brother, and extreamly Handsome; but has, I know not what, of -fierceness in her Eyes, which renders her, at least to me, a Beauty, -without a Charm. After the Entertainment, _Cittolini_ took me into -the Gardens, which were answerable to what I had seen within, full of -Curiosities; at one end there was a little Building of Marble, to which -he led me, and entering into it, see here, _Monsieur_, said he, the Place -where my Sister spends the greatest part of her Hours, and tell me if -’tis in this kind of Diversion that the _French_ Ladies take Delight. -I presently saw it was full of Books, and guess’d those Words were -design’d as a Satyr on our Ladies, whose disposition to Gallantry seldom -affords much time for Reading; but to make as good a Defence for their -Honour as I was able. _Seignior_, reply’d I, it must be confest, that -there are very few Ladies of any Nation, who think the _Acquisition_ of -Knowledge, worth the Pains it must cost them in the _Search_, but that -ours is not without some Examples, that all are not of that Mind; our -famous _D’anois_, and _D’acier_ may evince. Well, Well, interrupted he -laughing; the propensity which that Sex bears to Learning is so trifling, -that I shall not pretend to hold any Argument on its Praise; nor did -I bring you here so much to engage you to Admire my Sisters manner of -Amusement, as to give you an Opportunity of diverting your self, while -I go to pay a Compliment to my Mistress; who, tho’ I have a very great -Confidence in you, I dare not trust with the sight of so accomplish’d a -_Chevalier_. With these Words he left me, and I, designing to do as he -had desir’d; turn’d to the Shelves to take down what Book I cou’d find -most suitable to my Humour; but good God! As I was tumbling them over, -I saw thro’ a Window which look’d into a Garden behind the Study; tho’ -both belonging to one Person: A Woman, or rather Angel, coming down a -Walk directly opposite to where I was, never did I see in one Person -such various Perfections blended, never did any Woman wear so much of -her Soul in her Eyes, as did this Charmer: I saw that moment in her -Looks, all I have since experienc’d of her Genius, and her Humour; Wit, -Judgment, good Nature and Generosity are in her Countenance, conspicuous -as in her Actions; but to go about to make a Description, were to wrong -her; She has Graces so peculiar, that none without knowing her, can be -able to conceive; and tho’ nothing can be finer than her Shape, or more -regular than her Features; yet those, our Fancy or a _Painters_ Art may -Copy: There is something so inexpressibly striking in her Air; such a -delightful Mixture of awful and attractive in every little Motion, that -no Imagination can come up to. But if Language is too poor to paint her -Charms, how shall I make you sensible of the Effects of them on me! The -Surprize---the Love---the Adoration which this fatal View involv’d me -in, but by that which, you say, your self felt at the first Sight of -_Melliora_. I was, methought all Spirit,---I beheld her with Raptures, -such as we imagine Souls enjoy when freed from Earth, they meet each -other in the Realms of Glory; ’twas Heaven to gaze upon her: But Oh! The -Bliss was short, the Envious Trees obscur’d her Lustre from me.---The -Moment I lost Sight of her, I found my _Passion_ by my _Pain_, the _Joy_ -was vanish’d, but the _Sting_ remain’d---I was so bury’d in Thought, that -I never so much as stirr’d a Step to endeavour to discover which way she -went; tho’ if I had consider’d the Situation of the Place, it would have -been easy for me to have known, there was a Communication between the two -Gardens, and if I had gone but a few Paces out of the Study, must have -met her; but Love had for the present depriv’d me of my Sences; and it -but just enter’d into my Head that there was a Possibility of renewing -my Happiness, when I perceiv’d _Cittolini_ returning. When he came -pretty near; Dear _Frankville_, said he, pardon my Neglect of you; but -I have been at _Camilla_’s Apartment, and am told she is in the lower -Garden; I will but speak to her, snatch a Kiss and be with you again: He -went hastily by me without staying for any Answer, and it was well he -did so, for the Confusion I was in, had made me little able to reply. -His Words left me no room to hope it was any other than _Camilla_ I had -seen, and the Treachery I was guilty of to my Friend, in but wishing to -invade his Right, gave me a Remorse which I had never known before: But -these Reflections lasted not long; Love generally exerts himself on these -Occasions, and is never at a loss for means to remove all the Scruples -that may be rais’d to oppose him. Why, said I to my self, should I be -thus Tormented? She is not yet married, and ’tis almost impossible she -can with Satisfaction, ever yield to be so, to him. Could I but have -opportunity to Talk to her, to let her know my Passion,---to endeavour -to deliver her from the Captivity she is in, perhaps she would not -condemn my Temerity: I found a great deal of Pleasure in this Thought, -but I was not suffer’d to enjoy it long; _Honour_ suggested to me, that -_Cittolini_ lov’d me, had Oblig’d me, and that to supplant him would be -Base and Treacherous: But would it not be more so, cry’d the Dictates -of my _Love_, to permit the Divine _Camilla_ to fall a Sacrifice to one -so every way undeserving of her; one who ’tis likely she abhors; one -who despises her Heart, so he may but possess her Fortune to support -his Pride, and her Person to gratify a Passion far unworthy of the Name -of _Love_; One! who ’tis probable, when Master of the one, and satiated -with the other, may treat her with the utmost Inhumanity. Thus, for a -time, were my Thoughts at Strife; but Love at length got the Victory, -and I had so well compos’d my self before _Cittolini_’s Return that he -saw nothing of the Disorder I had been in; but it was not so with him, -his Countenance, at the best displeasing enough, was now the perfect -Representative of Ill Nature, Malice, and Discontent. _Camilla_ had -assur’d him, that nothing could be more her Aversion, and that she was -resolv’d, tho’ a Monastick Life was what she had no Inclination to, yet -she would fly to that Shelter, to avoid his Bed. You may imagine, my -Lord, I was Transported with an Excess of Joy, when he told me this; but -Love taught me to dissemble it, ’till I had taken leave of him, which I -made an Excuse to do, as soon as possible. - -Now all that troubled me was to find an Opportunity to declare my -Passion; and, I confess, I was so dull in Contrivance, that tho’ it took -up all my Thoughts, none of them were to any purpose: Three or four -Days I spent in fruitless Projections, the last of which I met with a -new Embarrassment; _Cittolini_’s Daughter was return’d, he renew’d his -Desires of making me his Son, and invited me the next Evening to his -House, where I was to be entertain’d with the sight of her; I could not -well avoid giving him my Promise to be there, but resolv’d in my Mind -to behave my self in such a manner as should make her disapprove of me. -While I was thus busied in Contriving how to avoid _Violetta_, and engage -_Camilla_, a Woman wrapt up very closely in her Vail came to my Lodgings, -and brought me a Note, in which I found these Words. - - [Illustration] - - _To Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE. - - _My Father is resolv’d to make me Yours; and if he has your - Consent, mine will not be demanded; he has Commanded me to - receive you to morrow, but I have a particular Reason to desire - to see you sooner; I am to pass this Night with CAMILLA at my - Aunt CIAMARA’s; there is a little Wicket that opens from the - Garden, directly opposite to the Convent of St. FRANCIS, if you - will favour me so far as to come there at Ten a Clock to Night, - and give Seven gentle Knocks at the Gate: You shall know the - Cause of my Entreating this private Interview, which is of more - Moment than the Life of_ - - Violetta. - -Never had I been more pleasingly surpriz’d, than at the Reading these -Lines; I could not imagine the Lady could have any other Reason for -seeing me in private, than to confess that her Heart was pre-engag’d, and -disswade me from taking the Advantage of her Father’s Authority, a secret -Hope too, sprung within my Soul, that my Adorable _Camilla_ might be with -her; and after I had dismiss’d the Woman, with an Assurance that I would -attend her Lady, I spent my Time in vast Idea’s of approaching Happiness -’till the appointed Hour arriv’d. - -But how great was my Disappointment, when being admitted, I cou’d -distinguish, tho’ the Place was very dark, that I was receiv’d but -by one, and accosted by her, in a manner very different from what -I expected: I know not, _Monsieur_, said she, how you interpret -this Freedom I have taken; but whatever we pretend, our Sex, of all -Indignities, can the least support those done to our Beauty; I am not -vain enough of mine to assure my self of making a Conquest of your -Heart; and if the World should know you have _seen_, and _refus’d_ me, -my slighted Charms would be the Theme of _Mirth_ to those whose _Envy_ -now they are: I therefore beg, that if I am dislik’d, none but my self -may know it; when you have seen my Face, which you shall do immediately, -give me your Opinion freely; and if it is not to my Advantage, make some -pretence to my Father to avoid coming to our House. I protest to you, my -Lord that I was so much surpriz’d at this odd kind of proceeding, that -I knew not presently how to Reply, which she imagining by my Silence: -Come, come, _Monsieur_, said she, I am not yet on even Terms with you, -having often seen _your_ Face, and you wholly a Stranger to _mine_: But -when our Knowledge of each other is Mutual, I hope you will be as free in -your Declaration as I have been in my Request. These Words I thought were -as proper for my purpose as I cou’d wish, and drawing back a little, as -she was about to lead me: Madam, said I, since you have that Advantage, -methinks it were but just, you shou’d reveal what sort of Sentiments the -sight of me has inspir’d, for I have too much Reason from the Knowledge -of my Demerit, to fear, you have no other design in exposing your Charms, -than to Triumph in the Captivating a Heart you have already doom’d to -Misery; I will tell you nothing, answer’d she, of _my_ Sentiments ’till -I have a perfect knowledge of _yours_. As she spoke this, she gave me -her Hand to conduct me out of that Place of Darkness; as we went, I -had all the Concern at the apprehension of being too much approv’d of -by this young Lady, as I shou’d have had for the contrary, if I had -imagin’d who it was I had been talking with, for as soon as we came out -of the Grotto, I saw by the light of the Moon, which shone that Night, -with an uncommon Lustre, the Face which in those Gardens had before so -Charm’d me, and which had never since been absent from my Thoughts. What -Joy, what a mixture of Extacy and Wonder, then fill’d my raptur’d Soul -at this second view, I cou’d not presently trust my Eyes, or think my -Happiness was real: I gaz’d, and gaz’d again, in silent Transport, for -the big Bliss, surpass’d the reach of Words. What _Monsieur_, said she, -observing my Confusion, are you yet Dumb, is there any thing so dreadful -in the form of _Violetta_, to deprive you of your Speech? No Madam, -reply’d I, ’tis not _Violetta_ has that Power, but she, who unknowing -that she did so, caught at first sight the Victory o’re my Soul; she! -for whom I have vented so Sighs! she for whom I languish’d and almost -dy’d for; while _Violetta_ was at _Vitterbo_: She! The Divine _Camilla_ -only cou’d inspire a Passion such as mine!--Oh Heavens! cry’d she, and -that instant I perceiv’d her lovely Face all crimson’d o’re with Blushes; -is it then possible that you know me, have seen me before, and that I -have been able to make any Impression on you? I then told her of the -Visit I had made to _Ciamara_ with _Cittolini_, and how by his leaving -me in the Marble-Study, I had been blest with the sight of her; and from -his Friend became his Rival: I let her know the Conflicts my Honour and -my Obligations to _Cittolini_ had engag’d me in; the thousand various -Inventions Love had suggested to me, to obtain that Happiness I now -enjoy’d, the opportunity of declaring my self her Slave; and in short, -conceal’d not the least Thought, tending to my Passion, from Her. She, -in requital, acquainted me, that she had often seen me from her Window, -go into the Convent of St. _Francis_, walking in the _Collonade_ at St. -_Peter_’s, and in several other Places, and, prompted by an extravagance -of good Nature, and Generosity, confess’d, that her Heart felt something -at those Views, very prejudicial to her Repose: That _Cittolini_, -always disagreeable, was now grown Odious; that the Discourse she had -heard of my intended Marriage with his Daughter, had given her an alarm -impossible to be express’d, and that, unable longer to support the Pangs -of undiscover’d Passion, she had writ to me in that Ladies Name, who she -knew I had never seen, resolving, if I lik’d her as _Violetta_, to own -her self _Camilla_, if not, to go the next Day to a Monastry, and devote -to Heaven those Charms which wanted force to make a Conquest where alone -she wish’d they shou’d. - -I must leave it to your Lordship’s imagination to conceive the wild -tumultuous hurry of disorder’d Joy which fill’d my ravish’d Soul at this -Condescention; for I am now as unable to describe it, as I was then to -thank the Dear, the tender Author of it; but what _Words_ had not Power -to do, _Looks_ and _Actions_ testified: I threw myself at her Feet, -Embrac’d her Knees, and kiss’d the Hand she rais’d me with, with such -a Fervor, as no false Love cou’d feign; while she, all softness, all -divinely Kind, yielded to the pressure of my glowing Lips, and suffer’d -me to take all the freedom which Honour and Modesty wou’d permit. This -interview was too felicitous to be easily broken off, it was almost -broad Day when we parted, and nothing but her Promise, that I shou’d be -admitted the next Night, cou’d have enabled me to take leave of her. - -I went away highly satisfy’d, as I had good Reason, with my Condition, -and after recollecting all the tender Passages of our Conversation; I -began to consider after what manner I shou’d proceed with _Cittolini_: -To Visit and Address his Daughter, I thought, wou’d be Treacherous and -Deceitful to the last degree; and how to come off, after the Promise -I made of seeing her that Evening. I cou’d not tell; at last, since -Necessity oblig’d me to one I resolv’d of, the two Evils to chuse -the least, and rather to seem _Rude_, then _Base_, which I must have -been, had I by counterfeiting a Desire to engage _Violetta_, left -room for a possibility of creating one in her. I therefore, writ, to -_Cittolini_ an Excuse for not waiting on Him and his Daughter, as I -had promis’d, telling him that I, on more serious Reflection found it -wholly inconsistent, either with my Circumstances, or Inclinations, -to think of passing all my Life in _Rome_; that I thank’d him for -the Honour he intended me, but that it was my Misfortune, not to be -capable of accepting it. Thus, with all the Artifice I was Master of, -I endeavour’d to sweeten the bitter Pill of Refusal, but in vain; for -he was so much Disgusted at it, that he visited me no more: I cannot -say, I had Gratitude enough to be much concern’d at being compell’d to -use him in this Fashion; for, since I had beheld, and Ador’d _Camilla_, -I cou’d consider him no longer as a Friend, but as the most dangerous -Enemy to my Hopes and me. All this time I spent the best part of the -Nights with _Camilla_; and in one of them, after giving, and receiving -a thousand Vows of everlasting Faith, I snatch’d a lucking Moment, and -obtain’d from the Dear, melting Charmer, all that my Fondest, and most -eager Wishes cou’d aspire to. Yes, my Lord, the soft, the trembling Fair, -dissolv’d in Love; yielded without Reserve, and met my Transports with an -equal Ardor; and I truly protest to your Lordship, that what in others, -_palls_ Desire, added fresh _Force_ to mine; the more I knew, the more -I was Inflam’d, and in the highest Raptures of Enjoyment, the Bliss was -dash’d with Fears, which prov’d alas, but too Prophetick, that some curst -Chance might drive me from my Heaven: Therefore, to secure it mine for -ever, I press’d the lovely Partner of my Joys, to give me leave to bring -a Priest with me the next Night; who by giving a Sanction to our Love, -might put it past the Power of Malice to Disunite us: Here, I experienc’d -the greatness of her Soul, and her almost unexampled Generosity; for in -spite of all her Love, her Tenderness, and the unbounded Condescentions -she had made me, it was with all the difficulty in the World, that I -persuaded her to think of Marrying me without a Fortune; which by her -Father’s _Will_, was wholly in the Disposal of _Ciamara_, who it wou’d -have been Madness to Hope, wou’d ever bestow it upon me. However, my -Arguments at last prevail’d; I was to bring a Fryar of the Order of St. -_Francis_, who was my intimate Friend, the next Night to join our Hands; -which done, she told me, she wou’d advise to leave _Rome_ with what speed -we cou’d, for she doubted not but _Cittolini_ wou’d make use of any -means, tho’ never so base or Bloody, to Revenge his Disappointment. This -Proposal infinitely pleas’d me, and after I had taken leave of her, I -spent the remainder of the Night, in contriving the means of our Escape: -Early in the Morning I secur’d Post-Horses, and then went to the Convent -of St. _Francis_; a Purse of _Lewis D’ors_ soon engag’d the Fryar to my -Interest, and I had every thing ready in wonderful Order, considering -the shortness of the Time, for our Design: When returning Home towards -Evening, as well to take a little rest after the Fatigue I had had, as -to give some other necessary Directions, concerning the Affair to my -Servants, when one of them gave me a Letter, which had been just left for -me. - -_Monsieur Frankville_ cou’d not come to this Part of his Story, without -some Sighs, but suppressing them as well as he was able, he took some -Papers out of his Pocket, and singling out one, read to the _Count_ as -follows. - - [Illustration] - - To Monsieur FRANKVILLE. - - _With what Words can I represent the greatness of my - Misfortune, or Exclaim against the Perfidy of my Woman? - I was oblig’d to make her the Confidant of my Passion, - because without her Assistance, I cou’d not have enjoy’d the - Happiness of your Conversation, and ’tis by her that I am now - Betray’d----undone,---lost to all hopes of ever seeing you - more---What have I not endur’d this Day, from the upbraidings - of CIAMARA and CITTOLINI, but that I shou’d despise, nay, - my own Ruin too, if you were safe----But Oh! their Malice - aims to wound me most, through you----Bravo’s are hir’d, the - Price of your Blood is paid, and they have sworn to take your - Life---Guard it I conjure you, if you wou’d preserve that of - CAMILLA’s. Attempt not to come near this House, nor walk alone, - when Night may be an Umbrage to their Designs.---I hear my - cruel Enemies returning to renew their Persecutions, and I have - Time to inform you no more, than that ’tis to the Generous - VIOLETTA you are indebted for this Caution: She, in pity of my - Agonies, and to prevent her Father from executing the Crime he - intends; conveys this to you, slight it not, if you wou’d have - me believe you Love,_ - - Camilla. - -What a turn was here (continu’d he, sadly) in my Fortune? How on a sudden -was my Scene of Happiness chang’d to the blackest Despair?---But not -to tire your Lordship, and spin out my Narration, which is already too -long with unavailing Complainings. I every Day expected a Challenge from -_Cittolini_, believing he wou’d, at least, take that Method at first, -but it seems he was for chusing the _surest_, not the _fairest_ way: And -I have since prov’d, that my Dear _Camilla_ had too much Reason for the -Caution she gave me. Ten Days I lingred out without being able to invent -any means, either to see her, or write to Her; at the end of which, -I receiv’d another Letter from Her, which, if I were to tell you the -Substance of, wou’d be to wrong her; since no Words but her own are fit -to Express her Meaning, and ’tis for that Reason only, I shall Read it. - - [Illustration] - - _To Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE. - - _Of all the Woes which wait on humane Life, sure there is none - Equal to that a Lover feels in Absence; ’tis a kind of Hell, - an earnest of those Pains, we are told, shall be the Portion - of the Damn’d----Ten whole Nights, and Days, according to the - vulgar Reckoning, but in mine, as many Ages, have roll’d their - tedious Hours away since last I saw you, in all which time, my - Eyes have never known one Moments cessation from my Tears, nor - my sad Heart from Anguish; restless I wander thro’ this hated - House---Kiss the clos’d Wicket---stop, and look at every Place - which I remember your dear steps have blest, then, with wild - Ravings, think of past Joys, and curse my present Woes---yet - you perhaps are Calm, no sympathizing Pang invades your Soul, - and tells you what mine suffers, else, you wou’d, you must have - found some Means to ease your self and me--’tis true, I bid you - not attempt it--but Oh! If you had lov’d like me, you cou’d not - have obey’d----Desire has no regard to Prudence, it despises - Danger, and over-looks even Impossibilities---but whither am I - going?---I say, I know not what---Oh, mark not what Distraction - utters! Shun these detested Walls!---’tis Reason now commands! - fly from this House, where injur’d Love’s enslav’d, and Death - and Treachery reign---I charge thee come not near, nor prove - thy Faith so hazardous a way---forgive the little Fears, which - ever dwell with Love---I know thou art all sincerity!---all - God-like Truth, and can’st not change---yet, if thou - shouldst,---tormenting Thought!----Why then, there’s not a - Heaven-abandon’d Wretch, so lost---so Curst as I---What shall - I do to shake off Apprehension? in spite of all thy Vows---thy - ardent Vows, when I but think of any Maid, by Love, and fond - Belief undone, a deadly cold runs thro’ my Veins, congeals - my Blood, and chills my very Soul!---Gazing on the Moon last - Night, her Lustre brought fresh to my Memory those transporting - Moments, when by that Light I saw you first a Lover, and, I - think Inspired me, who am not usually fond of Versifying, to - make her this Complaint._ - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - The Unfortunate CAMILLA’s Complaint to the _Moon_, for the - Absence of her Dear HENRICUS FRANKVILLE. - - _Mild Queen of Shades! Thou sweetly shining Light!_ - _Once, more than Phœbus, welcome to my Sight:_ - _’Twas by thy Beams I first HENRICUS saw_ - _Adorn’d with softness, and disarm’d of awe!_ - _Never did’st thou appear more fair! more bright!_ - _Than on that Dear, that Cause-remembred Night!_ - _When the dull Tyes of Friendship he disclaim’d,_ - _And to Inspire a tend’rer Passion aim’d:_ - _Alas! he cou’d not long, in vain, implore_ - _For that, which tho’ unknown, was his before;_ - _Nor had I Art the Secret to Disguise,_ - _My Soul spoke all her Meaning thro’ my Eyes,_ - _And every Glance bright’ned with glad Surprize!_ - _Lost to all Thought, but His Transporting Charms,_ - _I sunk, unguarded! Melting in his Arms!_ - _Blest at that lavish rate, my State, that Hour_ - _I’d not have Chang’d for all in fortune’s Pow’r,_ - _Nay, had descending Angel’s from on High_ - _Spread their bright Wings to waft me to the Sky,_ - _Thus clasp’d! Cœlestial Charms had fail’d to move_ - _And Heav’n been slighted, for HENRICUS Love._ - _How did I then thy happy Influence Bless?_ - _How watch each joyful Night, thy Lights encrease?_ - _But Oh! How alter’d since---Despairing now,_ - _I View thy Lustre with contracted Brow:_ - _Pensive, and sullen from the Rays wou’d hide,_ - _And scarce the glimmering Star’s my Griefs abide,_ - _In Death-like darkness wou’d my Fate deplore,_ - _And wish Thee to go down, to Rise no more!_ - - _Pity the Extravagance of a Passion which only Charms - like thine cou’d Create, nor too severely chide this soft - Impertinence, which I cou’d not refrain sending you, when I - can neither see you, nor hear from you: to write, gives some - little respite to my Pains, because I am sure of being in your - Thoughts, while you are Reading my Letters. The Tender Hearted - VIOLETTA, preferring the Tyes of Friendship to those of Duty, - gives me this happy opportunity, but my Ill-fortune deprives me - too of her, she goes to Morrow to her Fathers VILLA, and Heaven - knows when I shall find means to send to you again._ - - _Farewel, Thou Loveliest, Dearest, and Divine Charmer---Think - of me with a Concern full of Tenderness, but that is not - enough; and you must pardon me, when I confess, that I cannot - forbear wishing you might feel some of those Pains, impatient - longing brings.---All others be far away, as far, as Joy is, - when you are Absent from_ - - Your Unfortunate - - Camilla. - - P.S. _Since I writ this, a Fancy came into my Head, that if - you cou’d find a Friend Trusty enough to confide in, and one - unknown to our Family, he might gain admittance to me in - CITTOLINI’s Name, as sent by him, while he is at the VILLA. I - flatter my self you will take as much pleasure in endeavouring - to let me hear from you, as I do in the hope of it. Once more - ADIEU._ - -Your Lordship may judge, by what I have told you of the Sincerity of my -Passion, how glad I should have been to have comply’d with her Request, -but it was utterly impossible to find any body fit for such a Business: I -pass’d three or four Days more, in Disquietudes too great to be exprest; -I saunter’d up and down the Street where she liv’d, in hopes to see her -at some of the Windows, but Fortune never was so favourable to me, thus I -spent my Days, and left the sight of those dear Walls at Nights, but in -obedience to the Charge she had given me of preserving my Life. - -Thus, my Lord, has the business of my Love engrossed my Hours, ever -since your Lordships arrival, and tho’ I heard that you were here, and -extreamly wish’d to kiss your Hands, yet I cou’d never get one Moment -compos’d enough to wait on you in, ’till what my Desires cou’d not do, -the rashness of my Indignation effected: Last Night, being at my Bankers -where all my Bills and Letters are directed, I found this, from Monsieur -_Sanseverin_, the Rage which the Contents of it put me in, kept me from -remembring that Circumspection, which _Camilla_ had enjoyn’d, and I -thought of nothing but revenging the injury I imagin’d you had done me: -As I was coming Home, I was attack’d as you saw, when you so generously -preserv’d me, the just Indignation I conceiv’d at this base procedure of -_Cittolini_’s transported me so far, as to make me forget what I owed -to my Deliverer, to run in pursuit of those who assaulted me, but soon -lost sight of them, and returning, as Gratitude and Honour call’d me, -to seek, and thank you for your timely Assistance, I found a Throng of -People about the Body of the Villain I had killed, some of them were -for Examining me, but finding no Wounds about me, nor any marks of the -Engagement I had been in, I was left at my Liberty. - -Thus, my Lord, have I given you, in as brief a manner as the Changes -of my Fortune wou’d permit, the Account of my present melancholly -Circumstances, in which, if you find many things blameable, you must -acknowledge there are more which require Compassion. - -I see no Reason, answer’d the Count, either for the one or the other, -you have done nothing but what any Man who is a Lover, wou’d gladly have -it in his Power to do, and as for your Condition, it certainly is more -to be envy’d than pity’d: The Lady loves, is Constant, and doubtless -will some way or other, find means for her Escape,----Impossible! Cry’d -_Frankville_, interrupting him, she is too strictly watch’d to suffer -such a Hope. If you will prepare a Letter, resum’d _D’elmont_, my self -will undertake to be the Bearer of it; I am entirely a Stranger to the -People you have been speaking of, or if I should chance to be known -to them, cannot be suspected to come from you, since our Intimacy, so -lately born, cannot yet be talk’d of, to the prejudice of our Design; and -how do you know, continu’d he smiling, but, if I have the good Fortune -to be introduc’d to this Lady, that I shall not be able to assist her -Invention to form some Scheme, for both your future Happiness. This offer -was too agreeable to be refus’d, _Frankville_ accepted it with all the -Demonstrations of Gratitude and Joy imaginable, and setting himself down -to the _Count_’s Scrutore, was not long Writing the following _Billet_ -which he gave him to read before he seal’d it. - - To the most Lovely and Adorable CAMILLA. - - “If to consume with inward Burnings, to have no Breath but - Sighs, to wish for Death, or Madness to relieve me from the - racks of Thought, be Misery consummate, such is mine! And yet - my too unjust CAMILLA thinks I feel no Pain, and chides my cold - Tranquility; cou’d I be so, I were indeed a Wretch deserving - of my nate, but far unworthy of your Pity or Regard. No, no, - thou Loveliest, Softest, most angelic Creature, that Heaven, in - lavish Bounty, ever sent to charm the adoring World; he that - cou’d know one Moments stupid Calm in such an _Absence_, ought - never to be blest with those unbounded Joys thy _Presence_ - brings: What wou’d I not give, what wou’d I not hazard but - once more to behold thee, to gaze upon thy Eyes, those Suns - of kindling Transports! to touch thy enlivening Hand! to feed - upon the ravishing sweetness of thy Lips! Oh the Imagination’s - Extacy! Life were too poor to set on such a Cast, and you - shou’d long e’re this, have prov’d the little Value I have - for it, in competition with my Love if your Commands had not - restrain’d me. _Cittolini_’s Malice, however, had last Night - been gratify’d, if the Noble Count _D’elmont_ had not been - inspir’d for my Preservation, it is to him I am indebted, not - only for my Life, but a much greater Favour, that of conveying - to you the Assurance, how much my Life, my Soul, and all the - Faculties of it are eternally Yours. Thank him, my _Camilla_, - for your _Frankville_, for Words like thine are only fit to - Praise, as it deserves, such an exalted Generosity; ’tis with - an infinite deal of Satisfaction I reflect how much thy Charms - will justify my Conduct when he sees thee, all that excess of - Passion, which my fond Soul’s too full of to conceal, that - height of Adoration, which offer’d to any other Woman wou’d be - Sacriledge, the wonders of thy Beauty and thy Wit, claim as - their due, and prove _Camilla_, like _Heaven_, can never be too - much Reverenc’d! Be too much Lov’d!----But, Oh! How poor is - Language to express what ’tis I think, thus Raptur’d with thy - Idea, thou best, thou Brightest----thou most Perfect----thou - something more than Excellence it self--thou far surpassing all - that Words can speak, or Heart, unknowing thee, conceive: yet - I cou’d dwell for ever on the Theme, and swell whole Volumes - with enervate, tho’ well-meaning Praises, if my Impatience, to - have what I have already writ, be with you, did not prevent my - saying any more than, that but in you I live, nor cou’d support - this Death-like absence, but for some little intervals of Hope, - which sometimes flatter me, that Fortune will grow weary of - persecuting me, and one Day re-unite my Body to my Soul and - make both inseparably Yours, - - _Frankville_.” - -These new made Friends having a fellow-feeling of each others Sufferings, -as proceeding from one Source, pass’d the time in little else but amorous -Discourses, till it was a proper Hour for the Count to perform his -Promise, and taking a full Direction from _Frankville_ how to find the -House, he left him at his Lodgings to wait his return from _Ciamara_’s, -forming, all the way he went, a thousand Projects to communicate to -_Camilla_ for her Escape, he was still extreamly uneasy in his Mind -concerning _Melliora_, and long’d to be in _Paris_ to know the Truth of -that Affair, but thought he cou’d not in Honour leave her Brother in -this Embarrassment, and resolv’d to make use of all his Wit and Address -to perswade _Camilla_ to hazard every thing for Love, and was not a -little pleas’d with the Imagination, that he should lay so considerable -an obligation on _Melliora_, as this Service to her Brother wou’d be. -Full of these Reflections he found himself in the _Portico_ of that -magnificent House he was to enter, and seeing a Crowd of Servants about -the Door, desir’d to be brought to the presence of _Donna Camilla -Fialaso_, one of them, immediately conducted him into a stately Room, and -leaving him there, told him, the Lady shou’d be made acquainted with his -Request; presently after came in a Woman, who, tho’ very Young, seem’d to -be in the nature of a _Duenna_, the _Count_ stood with his Back toward -her as she enter’d, but hearing somebody behind him, and turning hastily -about, he observ’d she startled at sight of him, and appear’d so confus’d -that he knew not what to make of her Behaviour, and when he ask’d if he -might speak with _Camilla_, and said he had a Message to deliver from -_Cittolini_, she made no other Answer than several times, with an amaz’d -Accent, Ecchoing the names of _Camilla_ and _Cittolini_, as if not able -to comprehend his Meaning; he was oblig’d to repeat his Words over and -over before she cou’d recollect herself enough to tell him, that she -wou’d let him know her Lady’s pleasure instantly. She left him in a good -deal of Consternation, at the Surprize he perceiv’d the Sight of him had -put her into, he form’d a thousand uncertain Guesses what the occasion -shou’d be, but the Mistery was too deep for all his Penetration to -fathom, and he waited with abundance of Impatience for her return, or the -appearance of her Lady, either, of which, he hop’d, might give a Solution -to this seeming Riddle. - -He attended a considerable time, and was beginning to grow excessive -uneasy, at this Delay, when a magnificent _Anti-porta_ being drawn up, -he saw thro’ a Glass Door, which open’d into a Gallery, the _Duenna_ -approaching: She had now entirely compos’d her Countenance, and with an -obliging Smile told him, she wou’d conduct him to her Lady. She led him -thro’ several Rooms, all richly furnish’d and adorn’d, but far inferior -to the last he came into, and in which he was again left alone, after -being assur’d that he should not long be so. - -_Count D’elmont_ cou’d not forbear giving Truce to his more serious -Reflections, to admire the Beauties of the Place he was in; where e’er -he turn’d his Eyes, he saw nothing but was splendidly Luxurious, and all -the Ornaments contriv’d in such a manner, as might fitly be a Pattern, -to Paint the Palace of the Queen of Love by: The Ceiling was vastly -high and beautify’d with most curious Paintings, the Walls were cover’d -with Tapestry, in which, most artificially were woven, in various -colour’d Silk, intermix’d with Gold and Silver, a great number of Amorous -Stories; in one Place he beheld a Naked _Venus_ sporting with _Adonis_, -in another, the Love transform’d _Jupiter_, just resuming his Shape, and -rushing to the Arms of _Leda_; there, the seeming Chast _Diana_ Embracing -her entranc’d _Endimion_; here, the God of soft Desires himself, wounded -with an Arrow of his own, and snatching Kisses from the no less enamour’d -_Psiche_: betwixt every one of these Pieces hung a large Looking-Glass, -which reach’d to the top of the Room, and out of each sprung several -crystal Branches, containing great Wax-Tapers, so that the number of -Lights vy’d with the Sun, and made another, and more glorious Day, than -that which lately was withdrawn. At the upper End of this magnificent -Chamber, there was a Canopy of Crimson Velvet, richly emboss’d, and -trim’d with Silver, the Corners of which were supported by two golden -_Cupids_, with stretch’d out Wings, as if prepar’d to fly; two of their -Hands grasp’d the extremity of the _Valen_, and the other, those nearest -to each other, joyn’d to hold a wreath of Flowers, over a Couch, which -stood under the Canopy. But tho’ the Count was very much taken at first -with what he saw, yet he was too sincere a Lover to be long delighted -with any thing in the absence of his Mistress: How Heavenly (said he to -himself Sighing) wou’d be this Place, if I expected _Melliora_ here! But -Oh! how preferable were a Cottage blest with her, to all this Pomp and -Grandeur with any other; this Consideration threw him into a deep Musing, -which made him forget either where he was, or the Business which brought -him there, till rous’d from it by the dazling Owner of this sumptuous -Apartment. Nothing could be more glorious than her Appearance; she was -by Nature, a Woman of a most excellent Shape, to which, her desire of -Pleasing, had made her add all the aids of Art; she was drest in a Gold -and Silver stuff Petticoat, and a Wastcoat of plain blew Sattin, set -round the Neck and Sleeves, and down the Seams with Diamonds, and fastned -on the Breast, with Jewels of a prodigeous largeness and lustre; a Girdle -of the same encompass’d her Waste; her Hair, of which she had great -quantity, was black as Jet, and with a studied Negligence, fell part of -it on her Neck in careless Ringlets, and the other was turn’d up, and -fasten’d here and there with Bodkins, which had pendant Diamonds hanging -to ’em, and as she mov’d, glittered with a quivering Blaze, like Stars -darting their fires from out a sable Sky; she had a Vail on, but so thin, -that it did not, in the least, obscure the shine of her Garments, or her -Jewels, only she had contriv’d to double that part of it which hung over -her Face, in so many folds, that it serv’d to conceal her as well as a -_Vizard_ Mask. - -The Count made no doubt but this was the Lady for whom he waited, and -throwing off that melancholly Air he had been in, assum’d one, all gay -and easy, and bowing low, as he advanc’d to meet her; Madam, said he, -if you are that incomparable _Camilla_, whose Goodness nothing but her -Beauty can equalize, you will forgive the intrusion of a Stranger, who -confesses himself no other way worthy of the Honour of your Conversation, -but by his Desires to serve him who is much more so: A Friend of -_Cittolini_’s, answer’d she, can never want admittance here, and if you -had no other Plea, the Name you come in, is a sufficient Warrant for your -kind Reception: I hope, resum’d he in a low Voice, and looking round -to see if there were no Attendants in hearing, I bring a Better, from -_Frankville_, Madam, the adoring _Frankville_, I have these Credentials -to Justify my Visit; in speaking this, he deliver’d the Letter to her, -which she retiring a few Paces from him to read, gave him an opportunity -of admiring the Majesty of her Walk, and the agreeable loftiness of her -Mein, much more than he had time to do before. - -She dwelt not long on the Contents of the Letter, but throwing it -carelesly down on a Table which stood near her, turn’d to the Count, and -with an Accent which express’d not much Satisfaction; and was it to you, -my Lord! said she, that Monsieur _Frankville_ ow’d his Preservation? I -was so happy, reply’d he, to have some little hand in it, but since I -have known how dear he is to you, think my self doubly blest by Fortune -for the means of acting any thing conducive to your Peace: If you imagine -that this is so, resum’d she hastily, you are extreamly mistaken, as you -will always be, when you believe, where Count _D’elmont_ appears, any -other Man seems worthy the regard of a discerning Woman; but, continu’d -she, perceiving he look’d surpriz’d, to spare your suspence, and my self -the trouble of repeating what you know already, behold who she is, you -have been talking to, and tell me now, if _Frankville_ has any Interest -in a Heart to which this Face belongs? With these Words she threw off -her Vail, and instead of lessening his Amazement, very much encreas’d -it, in discovering the Features of the Lady, with whom he had discoursed -the Night before in the Garden, He knew not what to think, or how to -reconcile to Reason, that _Camilla_, who so lately lov’d, and had granted -the highest Favours to _Frankville_, shou’d on a sudden be willing, -uncourted, to bestow them on another, nor cou’d he comprehend how the -same Person shou’d at once live in two several Places, for he conceiv’d -the House he was in, was far distant from the Garden which he had been in -the Night before. - -They both remain’d for some Moments in a profound Silence, the Lady -expecting when the Count shou’d speak, and he endeavouring to recollect -himself enough to do so, ’till she, at last, possibly guessing at his -Thoughts, resum’d her Discourse in this manner: My Lord, said she, -wonder not at the Power of Love, a Form like yours might soften the most -rugged Heart, much more one, by Nature so tender as is mine.----Think -but what you are, continu’d she sighing, and making him sit down by her -on the Couch, and you will easily excuse whatever my Passion may enforce -me to commit. I must confess Madam, answer’d he very gravely, I never -in my Life wanted presence of mind so much as at this juncture, to see -before me here, the Person, who, I believ’d, liv’d far from hence, who, -by Appointment, I was to wait on this Night at a different Place.----To -find in the Mistress of my Friend, the very Lady, who seems unworthily -to have bestow’d her Heart on me, are Circumstances so Incoherent, as -I can neither account for, or make evident to _Reason_, tho’ they are -too truly so to _Sense_: It will be easy, reply’d she, to reconcile -both these seeming Contradictions, when you shall know that the Gardens -belonging to this House, are of a very large Extent, and not only that, -but the turning of the Streets are so order’d, as make the Distance -between the fore, and back Door appear much greater than really it is: -And for the other, as I have already told you, you ought to be better -acquainted with your self, than to be surpriz’d at Consequences which -must infallibly attend such Charms: In saying this, she turn’d her Head a -little on one side, and put her Handkerchief before her Face, affecting -to seem confus’d at what she spoke; but the Count redned in good Earnest, -and with a Countenance which express’d Sentiments, far different from -those she endeavour’d to Inspire: Madam, said he, tho’ the good Opinion -you have of me is owing entirely to the _Error_ of your _Fancy_, which -too often, especially in your Sex, blinds the _Judgment_, yet, ’tis -certain, that there are not many Men, whom such Praises, coming from a -Mouth like yours, wou’d not make Happy and Vain; but if I was ever of -a Humour to be so, it is now wholly mortify’d in me, and ’tis but with -the utmost regret, that I must receive the Favours you confer on me to -the prejudice of my Friend: And is that, interrupted she hastily, is -that the _only_ Cause? Does nothing but your Friendship to _Frankville_ -prevent my Wishes? That, of itself, answer’d he, were a sufficient Bar to -sunder us for ever, but there’s another, if not a greater, a more tender -one, which, to restore you to the Path, which Honour, Gratitude, and -Reason call you to, I must inform you of, yes, I must tell you, Madam, -all lovely as you are, that were there no such Man as _Frankville_, in -the World,----were you as free as Air, I have a defence within, which all -your Charms can never pierce, nor softness melt---I am already bound, -not with the weak Ties of Vows or formal Obligations, which confine no -farther than the Body, but Inclination!----the fondest Inclination! That -ever swell’d a _Heart_ with Rapturous Hopes: The Lady had much ado to -contain herself till he had done speaking; she was by Nature extreamly -Haughty, Insolent of her Beauty, and impatient of any thing she thought -look’d like a flight of it, and this open Defyance of _her_ Power, and -acknowledging _anothers_, had she been less in Love wou’d have been -insupportable to her: Ungrateful and uncourtly Man, said she, looking -on him with Eyes that sparkled at once with Indignation and Desire, you -might have spar’d yourself the trouble of Repeating, and me the Confusion -of hearing, in what manner you stand Engag’d, it had been enough to have -told me you never cou’d be mine, without appearing transported at the -Ruin which you make; if my too happy Rival possesses Charms, I cannot -boast, methinks your _good Manners_ might have taught you, not to insult -my Wants, and your _good Nature_, to have mingled _Pity_ with your -_Justice_; with these Words she fell a Weeping, but whether they were -Tears of Love or Anger, is hard to determine, ’tis certain that both -those Passions rag’d this Moment in her Soul with equal Violence, and -if she had had it in her Power, wou’d doubtless have been glad to have -hated him, but he was, at all times, too lovely to suffer a possibility -of that, and much more so at this, for in spite of the Shock, that -Infidelity he believ’d her guilty of to _Frankville_, gave him; he was -by Nature so Compassionate, he _felt_ the Woes he _saw_, or _heard_ of, -even of those who were most indifferent to him, and cou’d not now behold -a Face, in which all the Horrors of Despair were in the most lively -manner represented, without displaying a Tenderness in his, which in -any other Man, might have been taken for Love; the dazling Radience of -his Eyes, gave place to a more dangerous, more bewitching softness, and -when he sigh’d, in Pity of her Anguish, a Soul Inchanting Languishment -diffus’d itself thro’ all his Air, and added to his Graces; she presently -perceiv’d it, and forming new Hopes, as well from that, as from his -Silence, took hold of his Hand, and pressing it eagerly to her Bosom, -Oh my Lord! resum’d she, you cannot be ungrateful if you wou’d,----I -feel you cannot----Madam, interrupted he, shaking off as much possible -that show of Tenderness, which he found had given her Incouragement; I -wish not to convince you how nearly I am touch’d, with what you suffer, -lest it shou’d _encrease_ an Esteem, which, since prejudicial to your -Repose, and the Interest of my Friend; I rather ought to endeavour to -_lessen_.----But, as this is not the Entertainment I expected from -_Camilla_, I beg to know an Answer of the Business I came upon, and what -you decree for the unfortunate _Frankville_: If the Lady was agitated -with an extremity of Vexation at the _Count_’s Declaration of his Passion -for another, what was she now, at this Disappointment of the Hopes she -was so lately flatter’d with! instead of making any direct reply to what -he said, she rag’d, stamp’d, tore her Hair, curs’d _Frankville_, all -Mankind, the World, and in that height of Fury, scarce spar’d Heaven -itself; but the violence of her Pride and Resentment being a little -vented, Love took his turn, again she wept, again she prest his Hand, nay -she even knelt and hung upon his Feet, as he wou’d have broke from her, -and beg’d him with Words as eloquent as Wit cou’d Form, and desperate -dying Love Suggest, to pity and relieve her Misery: But he had now -learn’d to dissemble his Concern, lest it shou’d a second time beguile -her, and after raising her, with as careless and unmov’d an Air, as he -was capable of putting on: My Presence, Madam, said he, but augments your -Disorder, and ’tis only by seeing you no more, that I am qualify’d to -conduce to the recovery of your Peace: With these Words he turn’d hastily -from her, and was going out of the Room, when she, quick as Thought, -sprung from the Place where she had stood, and being got between him and -the Door, and throwing her self into his Arms, before he had time to -prevent her; you must not, shall not go, she cry’d, till you have left -me dead: Pardon me, Madam, answer’d he fretfully, and struggling to get -loose from her Embrace, to stay after the Discovery you have made of your -Sentiments, were to be guilty of an Injustice almost equal to your’s, -therefore I beg you’d give me liberty to pass.----Hear me but speak, -resum’d she, grasping him yet harder; return but for a Moment,----lovely -Barbarian,----Hell has no torments like your Cruelty. Here, the different -Passions working in her Soul, with such uncommon Vehemence, hurry’d -her Spirits beyond what Nature cou’d Support; her Voice faulter’d in -the Accent, her trembling Hands by slow degrees relinquish’d what so -eagerly they had held, every Sense forgot its Use, and she sunk, in all -appearance, lifeless on the Floor. The Count was, if possible, more glad -to be releas’d, than griev’d at the occasion, and contented himself with -calling her Women to her Assistance, without staying to see when she -wou’d recover. - -He went out of that House with Thoughts much more discompos’d than those -with which he had entered it, and when he came Home, where _Frankville_ -impatiently waited his Return, he was at the greatest loss in the World, -how to discover his Misfortune to him; the other observing the trouble -of his Mind, which was very visible in his Countenance; my Lord, said -he, in a melancholly Tone, I need not ask you what Success, the gloom -which appears on your Brow, tells me, my ill Fortune has deny’d you the -means of speaking to _Camilla_? Accuse not Fortune, answer’d _D’elmont_, -but the influence of malicious Stars which seldom, if ever, suits our -Dispositions to our Circumstances; I have seen _Camilla_, have talk’d -to her, and ’tis from that Discourse that I cannot forbear reflection -on the Miseries of Humanity, which, while it mocks us with a show of -_Reason_, gives us no Power to curb our _Will_, and guide the erring -Appetites to Peace. Monsieur _Frankville_ at these Words first felt a -jealous Pang, and as ’tis natural to believe every Body admires what we -do, he presently imagin’d Count _D’elmont_ had forgot _Melliora_ in the -presence of _Camilla_, and that it was from the Consciousness of his own -Weakness and Inconstancy, that he spoke so feelingly: I wonder not my -Lord, said he coldly, that the Beauties of _Camilla_ shou’d inspire you -with Sentiments, which, perhaps, for many Reasons, you wou’d desire to -be free from, and I ought, in Prudence, to have consider’d, that tho’ -you are the most excellent of your Kind, you are still a _Man_, and not -have the Passions incident to _Man_, and not have expos’d you to those -Dangers the sight of _Camilla_ must necessarily involve you in: I wish -to Heaven answer’d the Count, easily guessing what his Thoughts were, no -greater threatned you, and that you cou’d think on _Camilla_ with the -same indifference as I can, or she of me with more; then, in as brief -a manner as he cou’d, he gave him the Substance of what had happen’d. -_Frankville_, whose only Fault was rashness, grew almost wild at the -Recital of so unexpected a Misfortune, he knew not for a good while what -to believe, loath he was to suspect the Count, but loather to suspect -_Camilla_, yet flew into extremities of Rage against both, by turns: The -Count pitied, and forgave all that the violence of his Passion made him -utter, but offer’d not to argue with him, ’till he found him capable of -admitting his Reasons, and then, that open Sincerity, that honest noble -Assurance which always accompany’d his Sweetness, and made it difficult -to doubt the Truth of any thing he said, won the disorder’d Lover to -an entire Conviction; he now concludes his Mistress false, repents the -tenderness he has had for her, and tho’ she still appears as lovely to -his _Fancy_ as ever, she grows odious to his _Judgment_, and resolves to -use his utmost Efforts to banish her Idea from his Heart. - -In this Humour he took leave of the Count, it growing late, and his last -Nights Adventure taught him the danger of Nocturnal Walks, but how he -spent his time till Morning, those can only guess, who have loved like -him, and like him, met so cruel a Disappointment. - -The Count pass’d not the Night in much less Inquietude than _Frankville_, -he griev’d the powerful Influence of his own Attractions, and had -there not been a _Melliora_ in the World, he wou’d have wish’d himself -Deform’d, rather than have been the Cause of so much Misery, as his -Loveliness produc’d. - -The next Morning the Count design’d to visit _Frankville_, to strengthen -him in his Resolution of abandoning all Thoughts of the unconstant -_Camilla_, but before he cou’d get drest, the other came into his -Chamber: My Lord, said he, assoon as they were alone, my perfidious -Mistress, failing to make a Conquest of your Heart, is still willing to -preserve that she had attain’d over mine, but all her Charms and her -Delusions are but vain, and to prove to your Lordship that they are so, I -have brought the Letter I receiv’d from her, scarce an Hour past, and the -true Copy of my Answer to it. - - [Illustration] - - To Monsieur FRANKVILLE. - - _Tho’ nothing proves the value of our Presence, so much as the - Pangs our absence occasions, and in my last I rashly wish’d - you might be sensible of mine, yet on examining my Heart, I - presently recall’d the hasty Prayer, and found I lov’d with - that extravagance of Tenderness, that I had rather you return’d - it too little than too much, and methinks cou’d better bear to - represent you to my Fancy, careless and calm as common Lovers - are, than think, I saw you, Burning,--Bleeding,---Dying, like - me, with hopeless Wishes, and unavailing Expectations; but Ah! - I fear such Apprehensions are but too un-necessary----You think - not of me, and, if in those happy days, when no cross Accident - interven’d to part me from your Sight, my Fondness pleas’d, - you now find nothing in CAMILLA worth a troubled Thought, nor - breath one tender sigh in memory of our Transports past.----If - I wrong your Love, impute it to Distraction, for Oh! ’tis sure, - I am not in my Senses, nor know to form one regular Desire: I - act, and speak, and think, a thousand Incoherent things, and - tho’ I cannot forbear Writing to you, I write in such a manner, - so wild, so different from what I wou’d, that I repent me of - the Folly I am guilty of, even while I am committing it; but - to make as good a Defence as I am able for these, perhaps, - unwelcome Lines, I must inform you that they come not so much - to let you know my Sentiments, as to engage a Discovery of - yours: CIAMARA has discharg’d one of her Servants from her - Attendance, who no longer courting her Favour or regarding her - Frowns, I have prevail’d upon, not only to bring this to you, - but to convey an Answer back to me, by the help of a String - which I am to let down to him from my Window, therefore, if - you are but as Kind, as he has promis’d to be Faithful, we - may often enjoy the Blessing of this distant Conversation; - Heaven only knows when we shall be permitted to enjoy a nearer. - CITTOLINI is this Evening return’d from his VILLA, and nothing - but a Miracle can save me from the necessity of making my - Choice of him, or a Monastery, either of which is worse than - Death, since it must leave me the Power to wish, but take away - the means, of being what I so oft have swore to be_ - - Eternally Yours, and, - - Yours alone, - - _Camilla_. - -The Count could not forbear lifting up his Eyes and Hands in token of -Amazement, at the unexampled Falshood this Woman appeared guilty of, but -perceiving Monsieur _Frankville_ was about to read the following Answer, -wou’d not Interrupt him, by asking any Questions ’till he had done. - - [Illustration] - - To _Donna_ CAMILLA. - - _If Vows are any constraint to an Inclination so addicted to - Liberty as Yours, I shall make no difficulty to release you of - all you ever made to me! Yes Madam, you are free to dispose - both of your Heart and Person wheresoever you think fit, nor - do I desire you shou’d give your self the pains of farther - Dissimulation. I pay too entire an Obedience to your Will, to - continue in a Passion which is no longer pleasing: Nor will, by - an ill tim’d and unmannerly Constancy, disturb the serenity of - your future Enjoyments with any happier Man than_ - - Frankville. - -You see, my Lord, said he with a sigh, that I have put it out of her -Power to Triumph over my Weakness, for I confess my Heart still wears her -Chains, but e’er my Eyes or Tongue betray to her the shameful Bondage, -these Hands shou’d tear them out; therefore I made no mention of her -Behaviour to you, nor of my sending any Letter by you, not only because -I knew not if your Lordship wou’d think it proper, but lest she shou’d -imagine my Resentment proceeded from Jealousy, and that I lov’d her -still.----No, she shall ne’er have Cause to guess the truth of what I -suffer.----Her _real perfidy_ shall be repaid with _seeming Inconstancy_ -and Scorn---Oh! How ’twill sting her Pride,----By Heaven, I feel a gloomy -kind of Pleasure in the Thought, and will indulge it, even to the highest -insults of Revenge. - -I rather wish, reply’d the Count, you cou’d in _earnest_ be indifferent, -than only _feign_ to be so, her unexampled Levity Deceit, renders her -as unworthy of your Anger as your Love, and there is too much Danger -while you preserve the _one_, that you will not be able to throw off the -_other_.----Oh! I pretend not to it, cry’d _Frankville_, interrupting -him, she has too deep a root within my Soul ever to be remov’d---I boast -no more than a concealment of my Passion, and when I dress the horrors -of a bleeding, breaking Heart, in all the calm of cold Tranquility; -methinks, you shou’d applaud the _Noble_ Conquest: Time, said the -_Count_, after a little Pause, and a just Reflection how little she -deserves your Thoughts, will teach you to obtain a _Nobler_; that of -numbering your Love, among things that _were_, but _are_ no more, and -make you, with me, acknowledge that ’tis as great an argument of _Folly_ -and _meanness of Spirit_ to continue the same Esteem when the Object -ceases to deserve, which we profess’d before the discovery of that -unworthiness, as it wou’d be of _Villany_ and _Inconstancy of Mind_, to -change, without an Efficient Cause: A great deal of Discourse pass’d -between them to the same Effect, and it was but in vain that Count -_D’elmont_ endeavour’d to perswade him to a real forgetfulness of the -Charmer, tho’ he resolv’d to seem as if he did so. - -While they were disputing, one of _D’elmont’s_ Servants gave him a -Letter, which, he told him, the Person who brought it, desir’d he wou’d -answer immediately; he no sooner broke it open, and cast his Eye over -it, than he cry’d out in a kind of Transport, Oh, _Frankville_, what has -Fate been doing! You are Happy.----_Camilla_ is Innocent, and perhaps the -most deserving of her Sex; I only am Guilty, who, by a fatal Mistake have -wrong’d her Virtue, and Tormented you; but Read, continu’d he, giving him -the Letter, Read, and Satisfy your self. - -Monsieur _Frankville_ was too much astonish’d at these Words to be able -to make any reply, but immediately found the Interpretation of them in -these Lines. - - [Illustration] - - To the dear cruel Destroyer of my Quiet, the never too much - Admir’d _Count_ D’ELMONT. - - “’Tis no longer the Mistress of your Friend, a perjur’d and - unjust _Camilla_, who languishes and dies by your Contempt, but - one, whom all the Darts of Love had strove in vain to reach, - ’till from your Charms they gain’d a God-like Influence, and - un-erring Force! One, who tho’ a Widow, brings you the Offering - of a Virgin Heart. - - “As I was sitting in my Closet, watching the progress of the - lazy Hours, which flew not half so swift as my Desires to bring - on the appointed time in which you promis’d to be with me in - the Garden; my Woman came running in, to acquaint me, that - you were in the House, and waited to speak with _Camilla_: - Surprize, and Jealousy at once Assaulted me, and I sunk beneath - the Apprehension that you might, by some Accident, have seen - her, and also loved her, to ease my self of those tormenting - Doubts I resolv’d to appear before you, in her stead, and kept - my Vail over my Face, ’till I found that hers was unknown to - you:-----You are not Ignorant what follow’d, the Deceit pass’d - upon you for Truth, but I was sufficiently punish’d for it, by - the severity of your Usage: I was just going to discover who - I was, when the violence of my Love, my Grief, and my Despair - threw me into that Swoon, in which, to compleat your Cruelty, - you left me; ’twou’d be endless to endeavour to represent the - Agonies of my Soul, when I recovered, and heard you were gone, - but all who truly Love, as they _fear much_, so they _hope - much_, my Tortures at length abated, at least, permitted me to - take some intervals of Comfort, and I began to flatter my self - that the Passion you seem’d transported with, for a nameless - Mistress, was but a _feint_ to bring me back to him you thought - I was oblig’d to Love, and that there was a possibility, that - my Person and Fortune might not appear despicable to you, when, - you shou’d know, I have no Ties but those of Inclination, which - can be only yours while I am - - _Ciamara._ - - “_P.S._ If you find nothing in me worthy of your Love, my - Sufferings are such, as justly may deserve your Pity; either - relieve or put an end to them I conjure you---Free me from the - ling’ring Death of Doubt, at once decree my Fate, for, like - a God, you rule my very Will, nor dare I, without your Leave, - throw off this wretched Being; Oh then, permit me once more to - behold you, to try at least, to warm you into Kindness with my - Sighs, to melt you with my Tears,---to sooth you into softness - by a thousand yet undiscover’d Fondnesses---and, if all fail to - die before your Eyes.” - -Those who have experienc’d the force of Love, need not to be inform’d -what Joy, what Transport swell’d the Heart of Monsieur _Frankville_, -at this unexpected _Eclaircissment_ of his dear _Camilla’s_ Innocence; -when every thing concurs to make our Woes seem real, when Hopes are -dead, and even Desire is hush’d by the loud Clamours of Despair and -Rage, then,---then, to be recall’d to Life, to Light, to Heaven and Love -again, is such a torrent of o’re powering Happiness,--such a surcharge of -Extacy, as Sense can hardly bear. - -What now wou’d _Frankville_ not have given that it had been in his Power -to have recall’d the last Letter he sent to _Camilla_? his Soul severely -reproach’d him for so easily believing she cou’d be False; tho’ his -Experience of the sweetness of her Disposition, made him not doubt of a -Pardon from her, when she shou’d come to know what had been the Reason -of his Jealousy; his impatience to see her, immediately put it into his -Head, that as _Ciamara_ had been the occasion of the mis-understanding -between them, _Ciamara_ might likewise be made the property to set all -right again; to this end, he entreated the Count to write her an answer -of Compliance, and a promise to come to her the next Day, in which Visit, -he wou’d, in a Disguise attend him, and being once got into the House, he -thought it wou’d be no difficulty to steal to _Camilla’s_ Apartment. - -But he found it not so easy a Task as he imagin’d, to persuade Count -_D’elmont_ to come into this Design, his generous Heart, averse to all -Deceit, thought it base and unmanly to abuse with Dissimulation the real -tenderness this Lady had for him, and tho’ press’d by the Brother of -_Melliora_, and conjur’d to it, even by the Love he profess’d for her, it -was with all the reluctance in the World, that he, at last, consented, -and his Servant came several times into the Room to remind him that the -Person who brought the Letter, waited impatiently for an Answer, before -he cou’d bring himself into a Humour to write in the manner Monsieur -_Frankville_ desir’d; and tho’, scarce any Man ever had so sparkling a -Fancy, such a readiness of Thought, or aptitude of Expression, when the -dictates of his Soul, were the Employment of his Tongue or Pen, yet he -now found himself at a loss for Words, and he wasted more time in these -few Lines, than a Thousand times as many on any other Subject wou’d have -cost him. - - [Illustration] - - To the Beautiful and Obliging CIAMARA. - - _Madam_, - - “If I did not Sin against Truth when I assur’d you that I had - a Mistress to whom I was engag’d by Inclination, I certainly - did, when I appear’d guilty of a harshness which was never in - my Nature; the Justice you do me in believing the Interest of - my Friend was the greatest Motive for my seeming Unkindness I - have not the Power sufficiently to acknowledge, but, cou’d you - look into my Soul, you wou’d there find the Effects of your - Inspiration, something so tender, and so grateful, as only - favours, such as you confer, cou’d merit or create. - - “I design to make my self happy in waiting on you to Morrow - Night about Eleven, if you will order me admittance at that - Back-gate, which was the Place of our first Appointment, ’till - then, I am the lovely _Ciamara_’s - - Most Devoted Servant - - _D’elmont._ - - “_P.S._ There are some Reasons why I think it not safe to come - alone, therefore beg you’ll permit me to bring a Servant with - me, on whose secrecy I dare rely.” - -When the Count had sent away this little Billet, Monsieur _Frankville_ -grew very gay on the hopes of his Design succeeding; and laughing, -my Lord said he, I question whether _Melliora_ wou’d forgive me, for -engaging you in this Affair; _Ciamara_ is extreamly handsome, has Wit, -and where she attempts to Charm, has doubtless, a thousand Artifices to -obtain her wish; the Count was not in a temper to relish his Raillery, -he had a great deal of Compassion for _Ciamara_, and thought himself -inexcusable for deceiving her, and all that _Frankville_ cou’d do to -dissipate the Gloom that reflection spread about him, was but vain. - -They spent the greatest part of this Day together, as they had done the -former; and when the time came that _Frankville_ thought it proper to -take Leave, it was with a much more chearful Heart, than he had the Night -before; but his Happiness was not yet secure, and in a few Hours he found -a considerable alteration in his Condition. - -As soon as it was dark enough for CAMILLA to let down her String to the -Fellow whom she had order’d to wait for it, he receiv’d another Letter -fasten’d to it, and finding it was Directed as the other, for Monsieur -_Frankville_, he immediately brought it to him. - -It was with a mixture of Fear and Joy, that the impatient Lover broke it -open, but both these Passions gave Place to an adequate Despair, when -having un-seal’d it, he read these Lines. - - [Illustration] - - _To Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE. - - “I have been already so much deceiv’d, that I ought not to - boast of any skill in the Art of Divination, yet, I fancy, - ’tis in my Power to form a juster Guess than I have done, - what the Sentiments of your Heart will be when you first open - this----Methinks, I see you put on a scornful Smile, resolving - to be still unmov’d, either at Upbraidings or Complaints; - for to do one of these, I am satisfied, you imagine is the - reason of my troubling you with a Letter: But Sir, I am not - altogether silly enough to believe the tenderest Supplications - the most humble of my Sex cou’d make, has efficacy to restore - Desire, once Dead, to Life; or if it cou’d, I am not so mean - Spirited as to accept a return thus caus’d; nor wou’d it - be less impertinent to Reproach; to tell you that you are - Perjur’d---Base---Ungrateful, is what you know already, unless - your Memory is so Complaisant as not to remind you of either - Vows or Obligations: But, to assure you, that I reflect on - this sudden Change of your Humour without being fir’d with - Rage, or stupify’d with Grief, is perhaps, what you least - expect.----Yet, strange as it may seem, it is most certain, - that she, whom you have found the Softest, Fondest, Tenderest - of her Kind, is in a moment grown the most Indifferent, for - in spight of your Inconstancy, I never shall deny that I have - Lov’d you,---Lov’d you, even to Dotage, my Passion took birth - long before I knew you had a thought of feigning one for - me, which frees me from that Imputation Women too frequently - deserve, of _loving_ for no other Reason than because they are - _beloved_, for if you ne’er had _seem’d_ to love, I shou’d have - continu’d to do so in _Reality_. I found a thousand Charms - in your Person and Conversation, and believ’d your Soul no - less transcending all others in excellent Qualities, than I - still confess your Form to be in Beauty; I drest you up in - vain Imagination, adorn’d with all the Ornaments of Truth, - Honour, good Nature, Generosity, and every Grace that raise - mortal Perfection to the highest pitch, and almost reach - Divinity,---but you have taken care to prove your self, meer - _Man_, to like, dislike, and wish you know not what, nor why! - If I never had any Merits, how came you to think me worthy the - pains you have taken to engage me? And if I had, how am I so - suddenly depriv’d of them?---No, I am still the same, and the - only reason I appear not so to you, is, that you behold me - now, no more, with Lover’s Eyes; the few Charms, I am Mistress - of, look’d lovely at a distance, but lose their Lustre, when - approach’d too near; your Fancy threw a glittering Burnish o’re - me, which free Possession has worn off, and now, the _Woman_ - only stands expos’d to View, and I confess I justly suffer for - the guilty Folly of believing that in your Sex Ardors cou’d - survive Enjoyment, or if they cou’d, that such a Miracle was - reserv’d for me; but thank Heaven my Punishment is past, the - Pangs, the Tortures of my bleeding Heart, in tearing your Idea - thence, already are no more! The fiery Tryal is over, and - I am now arriv’d at the Elizium of perfect Peace, entirely - unmolested by any warring Passion; the Fears, the Hopes, the - Jealousies, and all the endless Train of Cares which waited - on my hours of Love and fond Delusion, serve but to endear - re-gain’d Tranquility; and I can cooly _Scorn_, not _hate_ your - Falshood; and tho’ it is a Maxim very much in use among the - Women of my Country, that, _not to Revenge, were to deserve - Ill-usage_, yet I am so far from having a wish that way, that - I shall always esteem your _Virtues_, and while I pardon, pity - your _Infirmities_; shall praise your flowing Wit, without - an Indignant remembrance how oft it has been employ’d for my - undoing; shall acknowledge the brightness of your Eyes, and not - in secret Curse the borrow’d softness of their Glances, shall - think on all your past Endearments, your Sighs, your Vows, your - melting Kisses, and the warm Fury of your fierce Embraces, but - as a pleasing Dream, while Reason slept, and with not to renew - at such a Price. - - “I desire no Answer to this, nor to be thought of more, go on - in the same Course you have begun, Change ’till you are tir’d - with roving, still let your Eyes Inchant, your Tongue Delude, - and Oaths Betray, and all who look, who listen, and believe, be - ruin’d and forsaken like - - _Camilla._” - -The calm and resolute Resentment which appear’d in the Stile of this -Letter, gave _Frankville_ very just Grounds to fear, it would be no small -Difficulty to obtain a Pardon for what he had so rashly Written; but when -he reflected on the seeming Reasons, which mov’d him to it, and that he -should have an Opportunity to let her know them, he was not altogether -Inconsolable, he pass’d the Night however in a World of Anxiety, and as -soon as Morning came, hurried away, to communicate to the _Count_ this -fresh Occasion of his Trouble. - -It was now _D’elmont_’s turn to Rally, and he laugh’d as much at those -Fears, which he imagin’d Causeless, as the other had done, at the -Assignation he had perswaded him to make with _Ciamara_, but tho’ as most -of his Sex are, he was pretty much of the _Count_’s Opinion, yet, the -Re-instating himself in _Camilla_’s Esteem, was a Matter of too great -Importance to him, to suffer him to take one Moment’s ease ’till he was -perfectly Assur’d of it. - -At last, the wish’d for Hour arriv’d, and he, disguis’d so, as it was -impossible for him to be known, attended the _Count_ to that dear Wicket, -which had so often given him Entrance to _Camilla_; they waited not long -for Admittance, _Brione_ was ready there to Receive them; the Sight of -her, inflam’d the Heart of Monsieur _Frankville_ with all the Indignation -imaginable, for he knew her to be the Woman, who, by her Treachery to -_Camilla_, had gain’d the Confidence of _Ciamara_, and involv’d him in -all the Miseries he had endur’d! but he contain’d himself, ’till she -taking the _Count_ by the Hand, in order to lead him to her Lady, bad him -wait her Return, which she told him should be immediately, in an outer -Room which she pointed him to. - -In the mean Time she conducted the _Count_ to the Door of that -magnificent Chamber, where he had been receiv’d by the suppos’d -_Camilla_, and where he now beheld the real _Ciamara_, drest, if -possible, richer than she was the Night before, but loose as wanton -Fancy cou’d invent; she was lying on the Couch when he enter’d, and -affecting to seem as if she was not presently Sensible of his being -there, rose not to receive him ’till he was very near her; they both -kept silence for some Moments, she, waiting till he should speak, -and he, possibly, prevented by the uncertainty after what manner he -should Form his Address, so as to keep an equal Medium between the two -Extreams, of being Cruel, or too Kind, till at last the Violence of her -impatient Expectation burst out in these Words,----Oh that this Silence -were the Effect of Love!----and then perceiving he made no Answer; tell -me, continu’d she, am I forgiven for thus intruding on your _Pity_ -for a Grant, which _Inclination_ would not have allow’d me? Cease -Madam, reply’d he, to encrease the Confusion which a just Sense of your -Favours, and my own Ingratitude has cast me in: How can you look with -Eyes so tender and so kind, on him who brings you nothing in Return? -Rather despise me, hate me, drive me from your Sight, believe me as I -am, unworthy of your Love, nor squander on a Bankrupt Wretch the noble -Treasure: Oh Inhuman! interrupted she, has then that Mistress of whose -Charms you boasted, engross’d all your stock of Tenderness? and have you -nothing, nothing to repay me for all this waste of Fondness,----this -lavish Prodigality of Passion, which forces me beyond my Sexes Pride, or -my own natural Modesty, to sue, to Court, to kneel and weep for Pity: -Pity, resum’d the _Count_ wou’d be a poor Reward for Love like yours, and -yet alas! continu’d he Sighing, ’tis all I have to give; I have already -told you, I am ty’d by Vows, by Honour, Inclination, to another, who -tho’ far absent hence, I still preserve the dear Remembrance of! My Fate -will soon recall me back to her, and _Paris_; yours fixes you at _Rome_, -and since we are doom’d to be for ever separated, it wou’d be base to -Cheat you with a vain Pretence, and lull you with Hopes pleasing Dreams a -while, when you must quickly wake to added Tortures, and redoubled Woe: -Heavens, cry’d she, with an Air full of Resentment, are then my Charms so -mean, my Darts so weak, that near, they cannot intercept those, shot at -such a Distance? And are you that dull, cold Platonist, which can prefer -the visionary Pleasures of an _absent_ Mistress, to the warm Transports -of the Substantial _present_: The _Count_ was pretty much surpriz’d at -these Words, coming from the Mouth of a Woman of Honour, and began now -to perceive what her Aim was, but willing to be more confirm’d, Madam, -said he, I dare not hope your Virtue wou’d permit.----Is this a Time -(Interrupted she, looking on him with Eyes which sparkled with wild -Desires, and left no want of further Explanation of her meaning) Is -this an Hour to preach of Virtue?----Married,----betroth’d, engag’d by -Love or Law, what hinders but this Moment you may be mine, this Moment, -well improv’d, might give us Joys to baffle a whole Age of Woe; make us, -at once, forget our Troubles past, and by its sweet remembrance, scorn -those to come; in speaking these Words, she sunk supinely on _D’elmont_’s -Breast; but tho’ he was not so ill-natur’d, and unmannerly as to repel -her, this sort of Treatment made him lose all the Esteem, and great part -of the Pity he had conceiv’d for her. - -The Woes of Love are only worthy Commiseration, according to their -Causes; and tho’ all those kinds of Desire, which the difference of Sex -creates, bear in general, the name of Love, yet they are as vastly wide, -as Heaven and Hell; that Passion which aims chiefly at Enjoyment, in -Enjoyment ends, the fleeting Pleasure is no more remembred, but all the -stings of Guilt and Shame remain; but that, where the interiour Beauties -are consulted, and _Souls_ are Devotees, is truly Noble, Love, _there_ -is a Divinity indeed, because he is immortal and unchangeable, and if -our earthy part partake the Bliss, and craving Nature is in all obey’d; -Possession thus desired, and thus obtain’d, is far from satiating, -_Reason_ is not here debas’d to _Sense_, but _Sense_ elevates itself to -_Reason_, the different Powers unite, and become pure alike. - -It was plain that the Passion with which _Ciamara_ was animated, sprung -not from this last Source; she had seen the Charming Count, was taken -with his Beauty, and wish’d no farther than to possess his lovely -_Person_, his _Mind_ was the least of her Thoughts, for had she the least -Ambition to reign there, she wou’d not have so meanly sought to obtain -the one, after he had assured her, the other, far more noble part of him -was dispos’d of. The Grief he had been in, that it was not in his Power -to return her Passion, while he believ’d it meritorious, was now chang’d -to the utmost Contempt, and her Quality, and the State she liv’d in, did -not hinder him from regarding of her, in as indifferent a manner, as he -wou’d have done a common _Courtezan_. - -Lost to all Sense of Honour, Pride or Shame, and wild to gratify her -furious Wishes, she spoke, without reserve, all they suggested to her, -and lying on his Breast, beheld, without concern, her Robes fly open, and -all the Beauties of her own expos’d, and naked to his View: Mad at his -Insensibility, at last she grew more bold, she kiss’d his Eyes,---his -Lips, a thousand times, then press’d him in her Arms with strenuous -Embraces,----and snatching his Hand and putting it to her Heart, which -fiercely bounded at his Touch, bid him be witness of his mighty Influence -there. - -Tho’ it was impossible for any Soul to be capable of a greater, or more -constant Passion than his felt for _Melliora_, tho’ no Man that ever -liv’d, was less addicted to loose Desires,----in fine, tho’ he really -was, as _Frankville_ had told him, the most excellent of his Kind, yet, -he was still a _Man!_ And, ’tis not to be thought strange, if to the -force of such united Temptations, Nature and Modesty a little yielded; -warm’d with her fires, and perhaps, more mov’d by Curiosity, her -Behaviour having extinguish’d all his respect, he gave his Hands and Eyes -a full Enjoyment of all those Charms, which had they been answer’d by a -Mind worthy of them, might justly have inspir’d the highest Raptures, -while she, unshock’d, and unresisting, suffer’d all he did, and urg’d him -with all the Arts she was Mistress of, to more, and it is not altogether -improbable, that he might not entirely have forgot himself, if a sudden -Interruption had not restor’d his Reason to the consideration of the -Business which had brought him here. - -Monsieur _Frankville_ had all this time been employ’d in a far different -manner of Entertainment; _Brione_ came to him, according to her promise, -assoon as she had introduc’d the _Count_ to _Ciamara_, and having been -commanded by that Lady to Discourse with the supposed Servant, and get -what she cou’d out of him, of the _Count_’s Affairs, she sat down and -began to talk to him with a great deal of Freedom; but he who was too -impatient to lose much time, told her he had a Secret to discover, if the -place they were in was private enough to prevent his being over-heard, -and she assuring him that it was, he immediately discover’d who he was, -and clap’d a Pistol to her Breast, swearing that Moment shou’d be the -last of her Life, if she made the least Noise, or attempted to intercept -his passage to _Camilla_: The terror she was in, made her fall on her -Knees, and conjuring him to spare her Life, beg’d a thousand Pardons for -her Infidelity, which she told him was not occasion’d by any particular -Malice to him; but not being willing to leave _Rome_ herself, the fear -of being expos’d to the revenge of _Ciamara_ and _Cittolini_, when they -shou’d find out that she had been the Instrument of _Camilla_’s Escape, -prevail’d upon her timerous Soul to that Discovery, which was the only -means to prevent what she so much dreaded: _Frankville_ contented himself -with venting his Resentment in two or three hearty Curses, and taking -her roughly by the Arm, bid her go with him to _Camilla_’s Apartment, -and discover before her what she knew of _Ciamara_’s Entertaining Count -_D’elmont_ in her Name, which she trembling promis’d to obey, and they -both went up a pair of back Stairs which led a private way to _Camilla_’s -Chamber; when they enter’d, she was sitting in her night Dress on the -Bed-side, and the unexpected sight of _Brione_, who, till now, had never -ventured to appear before her, since her Infidelity, and a Man with -her whom she thought a Stranger, fill’d her with such a surprize, that -it depriv’d her of her Speech, and gave _Frankville_ time to throw -off his Disguise, and catch her in his Arms, with all the Transports -of unfeign’d Affection, before she cou’d enough recover her self to -make any resistance, but when she did, it was with all the Violence -imaginable, and indeavouring to tear herself away; Villain, said she, -comest thou again to triumph o’re my Weakness,----again to Cheat me -into fond Belief? There needed no more to make this obsequious Lover -relinquish his Hold, and falling at her Feet, was beginning to speak -something in his Vindication; when she, quite lost in Rage, prevented -him, by renewing her Reproaches in this manner; have you not given me up -my Vows? Resum’d she, have you not abandon’d me to ruin,---to Death--to -Infamy,----to all the stings of self-accusing Conscience and Remorse? -And come you now, by your detested Presence, to alarm Remembrance, -and new point my Tortures?-----That Woman’s Treachery, continu’d she, -looking on _Brione_, I freely Pardon, since by that little Absence it -occasion’d, I have discovered the wavering disposition of your Soul, -and learn’d to scorn what is below my Anger. Hear me but speak, cry’d -_Frankville_, or if you doubt my Truth, as I confess you have almighty -Cause, let her inform you, what seeming Reasons, what Provocations urg’d -my hasty Rage to write that fatal,----that accursed Letter. I will hear -nothing, reply’d _Camilla_, neither from you nor her,----I see the base -Design, and scorn to joyn in the Deceit,--You had no Cause,----not even -the least Pretence for your Inconstancy but one, which, tho’ you all -are guilty of, you all Disown, and that is, being lov’d too well.----I -Lavish’d all the fondness of my Soul, and you, unable to reward, despiz’d -it:--But think not that the rage, you now behold me in, proceeds from -my Despair--No, your Inconstancy is the Fault of Nature, a Vice which -all your Sex are prone to, and ’tis we, the fond Believers only, are to -blame, _that_ I forgave, my Letter told you that I did----but thus to -come----thus Insolent in Imagination, to dare to hope I were that mean -Soul’d Wretch, whose easy Tameness, and whose doating Love, with Joy -would welcome your return, clasp you again in my deluded Arms, and swear -you were as dear as ever, is such an affront to my Understanding, as -merits the whole Fury of Revenge! as she spoke these Words, she turn’d -disdainfully from him with a Resolution to leave the Room, but she -could not make such hast to go away, as the despairing, the distracted -_Frankville_ did to prevent her, and catching hold of her Garments, -stay Madam, said he, wildly, either permit me to clear my self of this -barbarous Accusation, or, if you are resolv’d, Unhearing, to Condemn me, -behold me, satiate all your Rage can wish, for by Heaven, continued he, -holding the Pistol to his own Breast, as he had done a little before to -_Brione_’s, by all the Joys I have Possest, by all the Hell I now endure, -this Moment I’ll be receiv’d your _Lover_, or expire your _Martyr_. These -Words pronounc’d so passionately, and the Action that accompany’d them, -made a visible alteration in _Camilla_’s Countenance, but it lasted -not long, and Resuming her fierceness; your Death, cry’d she, this way -would give me little Satisfaction, the World would judge more Noble of -my Resentment, if by my Hand you fell----Yet, continu’d she, snatching -the Pistol from him, and throwing it out of the Window, which happen’d -to be open, I will not---cannot be the Executioner.--No, Live! And let -thy Punishment be, in _Reality_, to endure what thou well _Dissemblest_, -the Pangs, the racking Pangs, of hopeless, endless Love!--May’st thou -_indeed_, Love _Me_, as thou a thousand Times hast falsely sworn,---for -ever _Love_, and I, for ever _Hate!_ In this last Sentence, she flew -like Lightning to her Closet, and shut her self in, leaving the amaz’d -Lover still on his Knees, stupify’d with Grief and Wonder, all this -while _Brione_ had been casting about in her Mind, how to make the best -use of this Adventure with _Ciamara_, and encourag’d by _Camilla_’s -Behaviour and taking advantage of _Frankville_’s Confusion, made but one -Step to the Chamber Door, and running out into the Gallery, and down -Stairs, cry’d Murder,----Help, a Rape----Help, or _Donna Camilla_ will -be carry’d away.---She had no occasion to call often, for the Pistol -which _Camilla_ threw out of the Window chanc’d to go off in the fall, -and the report it made, had alarm’d some of the Servants who were in an -out-House adjoyning to the Garden, and imagining there were Thieves, were -gathering to search: some arm’d with Staves, some with Iron Bars, or any -thing they could get in the Hurry they were in, as they were running -confusedly about, they met Monsieur _Frankville_ pursuing _Brione_, with -a design to stop her Mouth, either by Threatnings or Bribes, but she was -too nimble for him, and knowing the ways of the House much better than he -did, went directly to the Room where _Ciamara_ was Caressing the Count in -the manner already mention’d: Oh Madam, said she, you are impos’d on, the -Count has deceiv’d your Expectations, and brought Monsieur _Frankville_ -in Disguise to rob you of _Camilla_. These Words made them both, tho’ -with very different Sentiments, start from the posture they were in, and -_Ciamara_ changing her Air of Tenderness for one all Fury, Monster! Cry’d -she to _D’elmont_, have you then betray’d me? This is no time, reply’d -he, hearing a great Bustle, and _Frankville_’s Voice pretty loud without, -for me to answer you, my Honour calls me to my Friend’s assistance; and -drawing his Sword, run as the Noise directed him to the Place where -_Frankville_ was defending himself against a little Army of _Ciamara_’s -Servants, she was not much behind him, and enrag’d to the highest degree, -cry’d out, kill, kill them both! But that was not a Task for a much -greater Number of such as them to Accomplish, and tho’ their Weapons -might easily have beat down, or broke the Gentlemens Sword; yet their -Fears kept them from coming too near, and _Ciamara_ had the Vexation to -see them both Retreat with Safety, and her self disappointed, as well in -her Revenge, as in her Love. - -Nothing cou’d be more surpriz’d, than Count _D’elmont_ was, when he got -Home, and heard from _Frankville_ all that had pass’d between him and -_Camilla_, nor was his Trouble less, that he had it not in his Power to -give him any Advice in any Exigence so uncommon: He did all he cou’d -to comfort and divert his Sorrows, but in vain, the Wounds of bleeding -Love admit no Ease, but from the Hand which gave them; and he, who was -naturally rash and fiery, now grew to that height of Desparation and -violence of Temper, that the Count fear’d some fatal Catastrophe, and -wou’d not suffer him to stir from him that Night, nor the next Day, -till he had oblig’d him to make a Vow, and bind it with the most solemn -Imprecations, not to offer any thing against his Life. - -But, tho’ plung’d into the lowest depth of Misery, and lost, to all -Humane probability, in an inextricable Labyrinth of Woe, _Fortune_ will -find, at last some way, to raise, and disentangle those, whom she is -pleas’d to make her Favourites, and that Monsieur _Frankville_ was one, -an unexpected Adventure made him know. - -The third Day from that, in which he had seen _Camilla_, as he was -sitting in his Chamber, in a melancholly Conversation with the Count, who -was then come to Visit him, his Servant brought him a Letter, which he -said had been just left, by a Woman of an extraordinary Appearance, and -who the Moment she had given it into his Hand, got from the Door with so -much speed, that she seem’d rather to vanish than to walk. - -While the Servant was speaking, _Frankville_ look’d on the Count with a -kind of a pleas’d Expectation in his Eye, but then casting them on the -Direction of the Letter, Alas! Said he, how vain was my Imagination, this -is not _Camilla’s_, but a Hand, to which I am utterly a Stranger; these -Words were clos’d with a sigh, and he open’d it with Negligence which -wou’d have been unpardonable, cou’d he have guess’d at the Contents, -but assoon as he saw the Name of Violetta at the bottom, a flash of Hope -re-kindled in his Soul, and trembling with Impatience he Read. - - [Illustration] - - To Monsieur FRANKVILLE. - - _I think it cannot be call’d Treachery, if we betray the - Secrets of a Friend, only when Concealment were an Injury, but - however I may be able to answer this breach of Trust, I am - about to make to my self, ’tis your Behaviour alone, which can - absolve me to CAMILLA, and by your Fidelity she must judge of - MINE._ - - _Tho’ Daughter to the Man she hates, she finds nothing in me - Unworthy of her Love and Confidence, and as I have been privy, - ever since your mutual Misfortunes, to the whole History of - your Amour, so I am now no Stranger to the Sentiments, your - last Conversation has inspir’d her with--She loves you still, - MONSIEUR--with an extremity of Passion loves you,----But, tho’ - she ceases to believe you unworthy of it, her Indignation for - your unjust Suspicion of her will not be easily remov’d--She is - resolv’d to act the HEROINE, tho’ to purchase that Character - it shou’d cost her Life: She is determin’d for a Cloyster, and - has declared her Intention, and a few Days will take away all - Possibility of ever being yours; but I, who know the conflicts - she endures, wish it may be in your Power to prevent the - Execution of a Design, which cannot, but be fatal to her: My - Father and CIAMARA, I wish I cou’d not call her Aunt, were last - Night in private Conference, but I over heard enough of their - Discourse, to know there has been some ungenerous Contrivance - carry’d on to make you, and CAMILLA appear guilty to each - other, and ’tis from that Knowledge I derive my Hopes, that - you have Honour enough to make a right Use of this Discovery, - if you have anything to say, to further the Intercessions I - am imploy’d in, to serve you; Prepare a Letter, which I will - either prevail on her to READ, or oblige her, in spite of the - Resolution she has made, to HEAR: But take care, that in the - least, you hint not that you have receiv’d one from me, for I - shall perswade her that the Industry of your Love has found - means of conveying it to me, without my Knowledge: Bring it - with you this Evening to St. PETER’S, and assoon as Divine - Service is over, follow her who shall drop her Handkerchief as - she passes you, for by that Mark you shall distinguish her whom - you yet know, but by the Name of_ - - Violetta. - - P.S. _One thing, and indeed not the least, which induc’d me - to write, I had almost forgot, which is, that your Friend the - Accomplish’d Count D’ELMONT, is as much endangered by the - Resentment of CIAMARA, as your self by that of my Father, bid - him beware how he receives any Letter, or Present from a Hand - unknown, lest he should Experience, what he has doubtless heard - of, our ITALIAN Art of Poysoning by the smell._ - -When Monsieur _Frankville_ had given this Letter to the Count to read, -which he immediately did, they both of them broke into the highest -Encomiums on this young Lady’s Generosity, who contrary to the custom of -her Sex, which seldom forgives an affront of that kind, made it her study -to serve the Man who had refus’d her, and make her Rival blest. - -These Testimonies of a grateful Acknowledgement being over, _Frankville_ -told the Count, he believ’d the most, and indeed the only effectual -Means to extinguish _Camilla’s_ Resentment wou’d be entirely to remove -the Cause, which cou’d be done no other way, than by giving her a full -Account of _Ciamara’s_ behaviour, while she pass’d for her: _D’elmont_ -readily consented, and thought it not at all inconsistent with his -Honour to Expose that of a Woman who had shewn so little Value for it -herself: And when he saw that _Frankville_ had finish’d his Letter, -which was very long, for Lovers cannot easily come to a Conclusion, he -offer’d to write a Note to her, enclos’d in the other, which shou’d serve -as an Evidence of the Truth of what he had alledged in his Vindication: -_Frankville_ gladly embrac’d the kind Proposal, and the other immediately -made it good in these Words. - - [Illustration] - - To _Donna_ CAMILLA. - - Madam, - - _If the Severity of your Justice requires a VICTIM, I only am - Guilty, who being Impos’d upon my self, ENDEAVOUR’D, for I - cannot say I cou’d ACCOMPLISH it, to involve the Unfortunate - FRANKVILLE in the same fatal Error, and at last, prevail’d on - him to WRITE, what he cou’d not be brought, by all my Arguments - to THINK._ - - _Let the Cause which led me to take this Freedom, excuse the - Presumption of it, which, from one so much a Stranger, wou’d be - else unpardonable: But when we are conscious of a Crime, the - first reparation we can make to Innocence, is, to acknowledge - we have offended; and, if the Confession of my Faults, may - purchase an Absolution for my Friend, I shall account it the - noblest Work of Supererogation._ - - _Be assur’d, that as inexorable as you are, your utmost Rigour - wou’d find its Satisfaction, if you cou’d be sensible of what I - suffer in a sad Repentance for my Sin of injuring so Heavenly - a Virtue, and perhaps, in time be mov’d by it, to Pity and - Forgive_ - - The Unhappily deceiv’d - - D’elmont. - -The time in which they had done Writing, immediately brought on that of -_Violetta_’s Appointment, and the Count wou’d needs accompany Monsieur -_Frankville_ in this Assignation, saying, he had an acknowledgment to -pay to that Lady, which he thought himself oblig’d, in good Manners and -Gratitude, to take this Opportunity to do; and the other being of the -same Opinion, they went together to St. _Peter_’s. - -When Prayers were done, which, ’tis probable, _One_ of these Gentlemen, -if not _Both_, might think too tedious, they stood up, and looking round, -impatiently expected when the promis’d Signal shou’d be given; but among -the great Number of Ladies, which pass’d by them, there were very few, -who did not stop a little to gaze on these two Accomplish’d _Chevaliers_, -and they were several times Tantaliz’d with an _imaginary_ Violetta, -before the _real_ one appear’d. But when the Crowd were almost dispers’d, -and they began to fear some Accident had prevented her coming, the long -expected Token was let fall, and she who threw it, trip’d hastily away -to the farther end of the _Collonade_, which hapned to be entirely void -of Company: The Count and his Companion, were not long behind her, and -Monsieur _Frankville_ being the Person chiefly concern’d, address’d -himself to her in this manner; With what Words, Madam, said he, can a Man -so infinitely Oblig’d, and so desirous to be Grateful, as _Frankville_, -sufficiently make known his admiration of a Generosity like yours? Such -an unbounded Goodness, shames all Discription! Makes Language vile, since -it affords no Phrase to suit your Worth, or speak the mighty Sense my -Soul has of it. I have no other Aim, reply’d she, in what I have done, -than Justice; and ’tis only in the proof of your sincerity to _Camilla_, -that I am to be thank’d. _Frankville_ was about to answer with some -assurances of his Faith, when the Count stepping forward, prevented him: -My Friend, Madam, said he bowing, is most happy in having it in his Power -to obey a Command, which is the utmost of his Wishes; but how must I -acquit my self of any part of that Return which is due to you, for that -generous Care you have been pleas’d to express for the preservation of my -Life? There needs no more, interrupted she, with a perceivable alteration -in her Voice, than to have _seen_ Count _D’elmont_, to be interested in -his Concerns--she paus’d a little after speaking these Words, and then, -as if she thought she had said too much, turn’d hastily to _Frankville_, -the Letter, _Monsieur_, continu’d she, the Letter,---’tis not impossible -but we may be observ’d,---I tremble with the apprehension of a Discovery: -_Frankville_ immediately deliver’d it to her, but saw so much Disorder in -her Gesture, that it very much surpriz’d him: She trembled indeed, but -whether occasioned by any danger she perceiv’d of being taken notice of, -or some other secret Agitation she felt within, was then unknown to any -but herself, but whatever it was, it transported her so far, as to make -her quit the Place, without being able to take any other Leave than a -hasty _Curtisie_, and bidding _Frankville_ meet her the next Morning at -_Mattins_. - -Here was a new Cause of Disquiet to _D’elmont_; the Experience he had of -the too fatal influence of his dangerous Attractions, gave him sufficient -Reason to fear this young Lady was not insensible of them, and that his -Presence was the sole Cause of her Disorder; however, he said nothing of -it to _Frankville_ ’till the other mentioning it to him, and repeating -her Words, they both joyn’d in the Opinion, that Love had been too busy -in her Heart, and that it was the feeling the Effects of it in herself, -had inclined her to so much Compassion for the Miseries she saw it -inflicted upon others. The Count very well knew that when Desires of -this Kind are springing in the Soul, every Sight of the beloved Object, -encreases their growth, and therefore, tho’ her generous manner of -Proceeding had created in him a very great Esteem, and he wou’d have -been pleas’d with her Conversation, yet he ceas’d to wish a farther -Acquaintance with her, lest it should render her more Unhappy, and -forbore going the next Day to Church with _Frankville_, as else he wou’d -have done. - -VIOLETTA fail’d not to come as she had promis’d, but instead of dropping -her Handkerchief, as she had done the Evening before, she knelt as close -to him as she cou’d, and pulling him gently by the Sleeve, oblig’d him to -regard her, who else, not knowing her, wou’d not have suspected she was -so near, and slip’d a Note into his Hand, bidding him softly, not take -any farther notice of her: He obey’d, but ’tis reasonable to believe, -was too impatient to know what the Contents were, to listen with much -Attention and Devotion to the remainder of the Ceremony; as soon he was -releas’d, he got into a Corner of the _Cathedral_, where, unobserv’d he -might satisfy a Curiosity, which none who Love, will condemn him for, any -more than they will for the thrilling Extacy which fill’d his Soul at the -Reading these Lines. - -[Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - To Monsieur FRANKVILLE. - - _For fear I should not have an Opportunity of speaking to you, - in safety, I take this Method to inform you, that I have been - so Successful in my Negotiation, as to make CAMILLA repent - the Severity of her Sentence, and wish for nothing more than - to recall it: you are now entirely justified in her Opinion, - by the Artifice which was made use of to Deceive you, and she - is, I believe, no less enrag’d at CIAMARA, for depriving her - of that Letter you sent by the COUNT, than she was at you for - that unkind one, which came to her Hands. She is now under less - restraint, since BRIONE’s Report of her Behaviour to you, and - the everlasting Resentment she vow’d, and I have prevail’d on - her to accompany me in a Visit I am to make, to morrow in the - Evening, to DONNA CLARA METTELINE, a Nun, in the Monastery of - St. AUGUSTINE, and if you will meet us there, I believe it not - impossible but she may be brought to a Confession of all I have - discover’d to you of her Thoughts._ - - _The COUNT’S Letter was of no small Service to you, for tho’ - without that Evidence she wou’d have been convinc’d of your - Constancy, yet she wou’d hardly have acknowledged she was so! - and if he will take the Pains to come with you to morrow I - believe his Company will be acceptable, if you think it proper; - you may let him know as much from_ - - Violetta. - - P.S. _I beg a thousand Pardons both of you and the COUNT, for - the abruptness of my Departure last Night; something happen’d - to give me a Confusion from which I cou’d not at that time - recover, but hope for the future to be more Mistress of my - self._ - -Monsieur _Frankville_ hasted to the _Count_’s Lodgings, to communicate -his good Fortune, but found him in a Humour very unfit for -Congratulations; the Post had just brought him a Letter from his Brother, -the Chevalier _Brillian_, the Contents whereof were these. - - [Illustration] - - _To Count_ D’ELMONT. - - MY LORD, - - _’Tis with an inexpressible Grief that I obey the Command you - left me, for giving you from Time to time an exact Account - of MELLIORA’s Affairs, since what I have now to acquaint you - with, will make you stand in Need of all your Moderation to - support it. But, not to keep your Expectation on the Rack, loth - as I am, I must inform you, that MELLIORA is, by some unknown - Ravisher stolen from the Monastery----The manner of it, (as I - have since learn’d from those who were with her) was thus: As - she was walking in the Fields, behind the Cloyster Gardens, - accompanied by some young Lady’s, Pensioners there as well as - her self, four Men well mounted, but Disguis’d and Muffled, - rode up to them, three of them jump’d off their Horses, and - while one seiz’d on the defenceless Prey; and bore her to - his Arms, who was not alighted, the other two caught hold of - her Companions, and prevented the Out-cries they would have - made, ’till she was carry’d out of sight, then Mounting again - their Horses, immediately lost the amaz’d Virgins all Hopes of - recovering her._ - - _I conjure my dearest Brother to believe there has been nothing - omitted for the Discovery of this Villany, but in spite of all - the Pains and Care we have taken in the search; None of us have - yet been happy enough to hear the least Account of her: That my - next may bring you more welcome News, is the first wish of_ - - My Lord, - - Your Lordship’s most Zealously Affectionate Brother, - and Humble Servant - - _Brillian_. - - P.S. _There are some People here, Malicious enough to Report, - that the Design of carrying away MELLIORA, was contriv’d by - you, and that it is in ROME she only can be found. It wou’d be - of great Advantage to my Peace, if I cou’d be of the Number of - those who believe it, but I am too well acquainted with your - Principles to harbour such a Thought. Once more, my dear Lord, - for this Time, ADIEU._ - -After the Count had given this Letter to _Frankville_ to read, he told -him, he was resolv’d to leave _Rome_ the next Day, that nobody had so -great an Interest in her Recovery as himself, that he would Trust the -Search of her to no other, and swore with the most dreadful Imprecations -he could make, never to rest, but wander, _Knight-Errand_ like, over the -whole World ’till he had found her. - -Tho’ Monsieur _Frankville_ was extreamly concern’d at what had happen’d -to his Sister, yet he endeavour’d to disswade the Count from leaving -_Rome_, ’till he knew the result of his own Affair with _Camilla_; but -all his Arguments were for a long time ineffectual, ’till, at last, -showing him _Violetta_’s Letter, he prevail’d on him to defer his Journey -’till they had first seen _Camilla_, on Condition, that if she persisted -in her Rigour, he shou’d give over any further fruitless Solicitations, -and accompany him to _Paris_: This _Frankville_ promis’d to perform, and -they pass’d the time in very uneasy and impatient Cogitations, ’till the -next Day about Five in the Evening they prepar’d for the Appointment. - -Count _D’elmont_ and his longing Companion, were the first at the -Rendezvous, but in a very little while they perceiv’d two Women coming -towards them: The Idea of _Camilla_ was always too much in _Frankville_’s -Thoughts, not to make him know her, by that charming Air (which he so -much ador’d her for) tho’ she was Veil’d never so closely, and the -Moment he had sight of them, Oh Heaven (cry’d he to _D’elmont_) yonder -she comes, that,----that my Lord, is the divine _Camilla_, as they came -pretty near, she that indeed prov’d to be _Camilla_, was turning on one -Side, in order to go to the Grate where she expected the _Nun_. Hold! -Hold _Donna Camilla_, cry’d _Violetta_, I cannot suffer you shou’d pass -by your Friends with an Air so unconcern’d, if Monsieur _Frankville_ has -done any thing to merit your Displeasure, my Lord the Count certainly -deserves your Notice, in the Pains he has taken to undeceive you. One -so much a Stranger as Count _D’elmont_ is, answer’d she, may very well -excuse my Thanks for an explanation, which had he been acquainted with -me he would have spar’d. Cruel _Camilla!_ Said _Frankville_, is then the -knowledge of my Innocence unwelcome?---Am I become so hateful, or are you -so chang’d, that you wish me guilty, for a justification of your Rigour? -If it be so, I have no Remedy but Death, which tho’ you depriv’d me of, -the last time I saw you, I now can find a Thousand means to compass; he -pronounc’d these Words in so Tender, yet so resolv’d an Accent; that -_Camilla_ cou’d not conceal part of the Impression they made on her, and -putting her Handkerchief to her Eyes, which in spite of all she had done -to prevent it, overflow’d with Tears; talk not of Death, said she, I am -not Cruel to that degree, Live _Frankville_, Live!----but Live without -_Camilla!_ Oh, ’tis impossible! Resum’d he, the latter part of your -Command entirely destroys the first.---Life without your Love, would be a -Hell, which I confess my Soul’s a Coward, but to think of. - -The Count and _Violetta_ were Silent all this Time, and perceiving they -were in a fair way of Reconciliation, thought the best they cou’d do to -forward it, was to leave ’em to themselves, and walking a few Paces from -them; You suffer my Lord, said the, for your Generosity in accompanying -your Friend, since it condemns you to the Conversation of a Person, who -has neither _Wit_, nor _Gaiety_ sufficient to make her self Diverting. -Those, reply’d he, who wou’d make the Excellent _Violetta_ a Subject of -Diversion, ought never to be blest with the Company of any, but such -Women who merit not a serious Regard: But you indeed, were your Soul -capable of descending to the Follies of your Sex, wou’d be extreamly -at a Loss in Conversation so little Qualify’d as mine, to please the -Vanities of the Fair; and you stand in need of all those more than -_Manly_ Virtues you possess, to pardon a _Chagreen_, which even your -Presence cannot Dissipate: If it cou’d, interrupted she, I assure your -Lordship, I shou’d much more _rejoice_ in the happy Effects of it on -you, than _Pride_ my self in the Power of such an Influence--And yet -continu’d she with a Sigh, I am a very Woman, and if free from the usual -Affectations and Vanities of my Sex, I am not so from Faults, perhaps, -less worthy of forgiveness: The Count cou’d not presently resolve what -reply to make to these Words; he was unwilling she should believe he -wanted Complaisance, and afraid of saying any thing that might give room -for a Declaration of what he had no Power of answering to her wish; but -after the consideration of a Moment or two, Madam, said he, tho’ I dare -not Question your Sincerity in any other Point, yet you must give me -leave to disbelieve you in this, not only, because, in my Opinion, there -is nothing so contemptibly ridiculous as that self sufficiency, and vain -desire of pleasing, commonly known by the Name of _Coquetry_, but also, -because she who escapes the Contagion of this Error, will not without -much difficulty be led into any other: Alas my Lord, cry’d _Violetta_, -how vastly wide of Truth is this Affection? That very foible, which -is most pernicious to our Sex, is chiefly by _Coquetry_ prevented: I -need not tell you that ’tis Love I mean, and as blamable as you think -the _one_, I believe the _other_ wou’d find less favour from a Person -of your Lordship’s Judgment: How Madam, interrupted the Count, pretty -warmly, have I the Character of a Stoick?---Or do you, imagine that my -Soul, is compos’d that course Stuff, not to be capable of receiving, -or approving a Passion, which, all the Brave, and generous think it -their glory to Profess, and which can only give refin’d delight, to -Minds enobled.----But I perceive, continu’d he growing more cool, I am -not happy enough in your Esteem, to be thought worthy the Influence of -that God. Still you mistake my Meaning, said _Violetta_, I doubt not of -your Sensibility, were there a possibility of finding a Woman worthy -of Inspiring you with soft Desires; and if that shou’d ever happen, -Love wou’d be so far from being a weakness, that it wou’d serve rather -as an Embelishment to your other Graces; it’s only when we stoop to -Objects below our Consideration, or vainly wing our wishes to those -above our Hopes, that makes us appear ridiculous or contemptible; but -either of these is a Folly which,----which the incomparable _Violetta_, -interrupted _D’elmont_, never can be guilty of: You have a very good -Opinion of my Wit resum’d she, in a melancholly Tone, but I shou’d be -much happier than I am, if I were sure I cou’d secure my self from doing -any thing to forfeit it: I believe, reply’d the Count there are not many -things you have less Reason to apprehend than such a Change; and I am -confident were I to stay in _Rome_ as many _Ages_, as I am determin’d -to do but _Hours_, I shou’d, at last, leave it, with the same Esteem -and Admiration of your singular Vertues, as I now shall do. _Violetta_ -cou’d not prevent the Disorder these Words put her into, from discovering -it self in the Accent of her Voice, when, How! My Lord, said she, are -we then to lose you?---Lose you in so short a Time? As the Count was -about to answer, _Frankville_ and _Camilla_ joyn’d them, and looking on -_Frankville_, if any Credit, said he, may be given to the Language of -the Eyes, I am certain yours speak Success, and I may congratulate a -Happiness you lately cou’d not be persuaded to hope; had I a thousand -Eyes, cry’d the transported Lover, a thousand Tongues, they all wou’d be -but insignificant to express the Joy!----the unbounded Extacy, my Soul -is full of,----but take the mighty Meaning in one Word,----_Camilla_’s -mine---for ever mine!---the Storm is past, and all the sunny Heaven -of Love returns to bless my future Days with ceaseless Raptures: Now, -my Lord, I am ready to attend you in your Journey, this Bright! This -beauteous Guardian Angel, will partake our Flight! And we have nothing -now to do, but to prepare with secrecy and speed fit means for our -Escape. As soon as _Frankville_ had left off speaking, Count _D’elmont_ -addressing himself to _Camilla_, made her abundance of Retributions, for -the happiness she gave his Friend, which she receiving with a becoming -Chearfulness, and unaffected Gaiety, I am afraid said she, your Lordship -will think a Woman’s Resolution is, henceforth, little worth regarding; -but, continu’d she, taking _Violetta_ by the Hand, I see well, that this -unfaithful Creature, has betray’d me, and to punish her Infidelity, will, -by leaving her, put it out of her Power to deceive my Confidence again: -_Violetta_ either did not hear, or was not in a condition to return her -_Raillery_, nor the Praises which the Count and Monsieur _Frankville_ -concurr’d in of her Generosity, but stood motionless and lost in Thought, -till _Camilla_ seeing it grow towards Night, told the Gentlemen, she -thought it best to part, not only to avoid any Suspicion at Home of their -being out so long, but also that the others might order every thing -proper for their Departure, which it was agreed on between _Frankville_ -and her, should be the next Night, to prevent the Success of those -mischievous Designs she knew _Ciamara_ and _Cittolini_ were forming, -against both the Count and Monsieur _Frankville_. - -Matters being thus adjusted to the entire Satisfaction of the Lovers, and -not in a much less proportion to the Count, they all thought it best to -avoid making any more Appointments till they met to part no more; which -was to be at the Wicket at dead of Night. When the Count took leave of -_Violetta_, this being the last time he cou’d expect to see her; she was -hardly able to return his Civilities, and much less to answer those which -_Frankville_ made her, after the Count had turn’d from her to give him -way; both of them guess’d the Cause of her Confusion, and _D’elmont_ felt -a concern in observing it, which nothing but that for _Melliora_ cou’d -surpass. - -The next Day found full Employment for them all; but the Count, as -well as _Frankville_, was too impatient to be gone, to neglect any -thing requisite for their Departure, there was not the least particular -wanting, long before the time they were to wait at the Wicket for -_Camilla_’s coming forth: The Count’s Lodging being the nearest, they -stay’d there, watching for the long’d for Hour; but a little before it -arriv’d, a Youth, who seem’d to be about 13 or 14 Years of Age, desir’d -to be admitted to the Count’s presence, which being granted, pulling a -Letter out of his Pocket, and blushing as he approach’d him: I come my -Lord, said he, from _Donna Violetta_, the Contents of this will inform -you on what Business; but lest the Treachery of others, shou’d render me -suspected, permit me to break it open, and prove it carries no Infection: -The Count look’d earnestly on him while he spoke, and was strangely -taken with the uncommon Beauty and Modesty which he observ’d in him: You -need not give your self the trouble of that Experiment, answer’d he, -_Donna Violetta_’s Name, and your own engaging Aspect, are sufficient -Credentials, if I were liable to doubt; in saying this, he took the -Letter, and full of Fears that some Accident had happen’d to _Camilla_, -which might retard their Journey, hastily read over these Lines. - - [Illustration] - - _To the Worthy_ Count D’ELMONT. - - My LORD, - - _If any Part of that Esteem you Profess’d to have for me, be - real, you will not deny the Request I make you to accept this - Youth, who is my Relation, in Quality of a Page: He is inclin’d - to Travel, and of all Places, FRANCE is that which he is most - desirous of going to: If a diligent CARE, a faithful Secresy, - and an Unceasing watchfulness to please, can render him - acceptable to your Service, I doubt not but he will, by those, - Recomend himself, hereafter: In the mean Time beg you will - receive him on my Word: And if that will be any Inducement to - prejudice you in his Favour, I assure you, that tho’ he is one - degree nearer in Blood to my Father, he is by many in Humour - and Principles to_ - - Violetta. - - P.S. _May Health Safety and Prosperity attend you in your - Journey, and all the Happiness you wish for, crown the End._ - -The Young _Fidelio_, for so he was call’d, cou’d not wish to be receiv’d -with greater Demonstrations of Kindness than those the Count gave him: -And perceiving that _Violetta_ had trusted him with the whole Affair -of their leaving _Rome_ in private, doubted not of his Conduct, and -consulted with him, who they found knew the Place perfectly well, after -what manner they should Watch, with the least danger of being discover’d, -for _Camilla_’s opening the Wicket: _Frankville_ was for going alone, -lest if any of the Servants shou’d happen to be about, one Person would -be less liable to suspicion, than it a Company were seen; the Count -thought it most proper to go all together, remembring _Frankville_ -of the danger he had lately scap’d, and might again be brought into; -but _Fidelio_ told them, he wou’d advise that they two should remain -conceal’d in the _Portico_, of the Convent of St. _Francis_, while -himself wou’d watch alone at the Wicket for _Camilla_, and lead her -to them, and then afterwards they might go altogether to that Place -where the Horses and Servants shou’d attend them; the Page’s Counsel -was approv’d by both of them, and the time being arriv’d, what they had -contriv’d was immediately put in Execution. - -Every thing happen’d according to their Desire, _Camilla_ got safely to -the Arms of her impatient Lover, and they all taking Horse, rode with -such Speed, as some of them wou’d have been little able to bear, if any -thing less than Life and Love had been at Stake. - -Their eager wishes, and the goodness of their Horses brought them, before -Day-break many Miles from _Rome_; but tho’ they avoided all high Roads, -and travell’d cross the Country to prevent being met, or overtook by any -that might know them, yet their desire of seeing themselves in a Place of -Security was so great that they refus’d to stop to take any Refreshment -’till the next Day was almost spent; but when they were come into the -House where they were to lye that Night, not all the fatigue they had -endur’d, kept the Lovers from giving and receiving all the Testimonies -imaginable of mutual Affection. - -The sight of their Felicity added new Wings to Count _D’elmont_’s -impatience to recover _Melliora_, but when he consider’d the little -probability of that hope, he grew inconsolable, and his new Page -_Fidelio_, who lay on a _Pallet_ in the same Room with him, put all -his Wit, of which he had no small Stock, upon the stretch to divert -his Sorrows, he talk’d to him, sung to him, told him a hundred pretty -Stories, and, in fine, made good the Character _Violetta_ had given him -so well, that the Count look’d on him as a Blessing sent from Heaven to -lessen his Misfortunes, and make his Woes sit easy. - -They continu’d Travelling with the same Expedition as when they first -set out, for three or four Days, but then, believing themselves secure -from any Pursuit, began to slacken their Pace, and make the Journey more -delightful to _Camilla_ and _Fidelio_, who not being accustomed to ride -in that manner, wou’d never have been able to support it, if the strength -of their _Minds_, had not by far, exceeded that of their _Bodies_. - -They had gone so much about, in seeking the By-roads, that they made it -three times as long before they arriv’d at _Avigno_, a small Village on -the Borders of _Italy_, as any, that had come the direct way wou’d have -done; but the Caution they had observ’d, was not altogether needless, as -they presently found. - -A Gentleman who had been a particular Acquaintance of Monsieur -_Frankville_’s, overtook them at this Place, and after expressing -some Amazement to find ’em no farther on their Journey, told Monsieur -_Frankville_ he believ’d he cou’d inform him of some things which -had happen’d since his Departure, and cou’d not yet have reach’d his -Knowledge, which the other desiring him to do, the Gentleman began in -this manner. - -It was no sooner Day, said he, than it was nois’d over all the City, -that Donna _Camilla_, Count _D’elmont_, and your self, had privately -left _Rome_; every Body spoke of it, according to their Humour; but -the Friends of _Ciamara_ and _Cittolini_ were outragious, a Complaint -was immediately made to the _Consistory_, and all imaginable Deligence -us’d, to overtake, or stop you, but you were so happy as to Escape, and -the Pursuers return’d without doing any thing of what they went about: -Tho’ _Cittolini_’s disappointment to all appearance, was the greatest, -yet _Ciamara_ bore it with the least Patience, and having vainly rag’d, -offer’d all the Treasure she was Mistress of, and perhaps spent the best -part of it in fruitless means to bring you back, at last she swallow’d -Poison, and in the raving agonies of Death, confess’d, that it was not -the loss of _Camilla_, but Count _D’elmont_ which was the Cause of her -Despair: Her Death gave a fresh occasion of Grief to _Cittolini_, but -the Day in which she was interr’d, brought him yet a nearer; he had sent -to his _Villa_ for his Daughter _Violetta_ to assist at the Funeral, and -the Messenger return’d with the surprizing Account of her not having -been there as she pretended she was, nothing was ever equal to the Rage, -the Grief, and the Amazement of this distracted Father, when after the -strictest Enquiry, and Search that cou’d be made, she was no where to be -found or heard of, it threw him into a Fever, of which he linger’d but a -small Time, and dy’d the same Day on which I left _Rome_. - -The Gentleman who made this recital, was entirely a Stranger to any -of the Company but Monsieur _Frankville_, and they were retired into -a private Room during the time of their Conversation, which lasted -not long; _Frankville_, was impatient to communicate to Camilla and -_D’elmont_ what he had heard, and as soon as Civility wou’d permit, took -leave of the Gentleman. - -The Count had too much Compassion in his Nature not to be extreamly -troubled when he was told this melancholly Catastrophe; but _Camilla_ -said little; the ill usage of _Ciamara_, and the impudent, and -interested Pretensions of _Cittolini_ to her, kept her from being so -much _concern’d_ at their Misfortunes, as she wou’d have been at any -other Persons, and the generosity of her Temper, or some other Reason -which the Reader will not be ignorant of, hereafter, from expressing -any _Satisfaction_ in the Punishment they had met: But when the Count, -who most of all lamented _Violetta_, express’d his Astonishment and -Affliction, at her Elopement, she joyn’d with him in the Praises of that -young Lady, with an eagerness which testify’d, she had no part in the -Hatred she bore her Father. - -While they were discoursing, _Camilla_ observ’d, that _Fidelio_ who was -all this while in the Room, grew very pale, and at last saw him drop -on the Ground, quite Senseless, she run to him, as did his Lord, and -Monsieur _Frankville_, and after, by throwing Water in his Face, they -brought him to himself again, he appear’d in such an Agony that they -fear’d his Fit wou’d return, and order’d him to be laid on a Bed, and -carefully attended. - -After they had taken a short Repast, they began to think of setting -forward on their Journey, designing to reach _Piedmont_ that Night: The -Count went himself to the Chamber where his Page was laid, and finding -he was very ill, told him he thought it best for him to remain in that -Place, that he wou’d order Physicians to attend him, and that when he was -fully recover’d, he might follow them to _Paris_ with Safety. _Fidelio_ -was ready to faint a second time at the hearing these Words, and with -the most earnest Conjurations, accompany’d with Tears, begg’d that he -might not be left behind: I can but die, said he, if I go with you, but -I am sure, that nothing if I stay can _save_ me: The Count seeing him so -pressing, sent for a _Litter_, but there was none to be got, and in spite -of what _Camilla_ or _Frankville_ cou’d say to diswade him, having his -Lord’s Leave, he ventured to attend him as he had done the former part of -the Journey. - -They Travell’d at an easy rate, because of _Fidelio_’s Indisposition, and -it being later than they imagin’d, Night came upon ’em before they were -aware of it, Usher’d in, by one of the most dreadful Storms that ever -was; the Rain, the Hail; the Thunder, and the Lightning, was so Violent -that it oblig’d ’em to mend their Pace to get into some Place of shelter, -for there was no House near: But to make their Misfortune the greater, -they miss’d the Road, and rode considerably out of their way, before -they perceiv’d that they were wrong; the darkness of the Night, which -had no Illumination than, now and then, a horrid flash of Lightning, -the wildness of the Desart, which they had stray’d into, and the little -Hopes they had of being able to get out of it, at least till Day, were -sufficient to have struck Terror in the boldest Heart: _Camilla_ stood in -need of all her Love, to Protect her from the Fears which were beginning -to Assault her; but poor _Fidelio_ felt an inward Horror, which, by this -dreadful Scene encreas’d, made him appear wholly desparate: Wretch that I -am, cry’d he, ’tis for me the Tempest rises! I justly have incurr’d the -wrath of Heaven,---and you who are Innocent, by my accurs’d Presence are -drawn to share a Punishment only due to Crimes like Mine! In this manner -he exclaim’d wringing his Hands in bitter Anguish, and rather _Exposing_ -his lovely Face to all the Fury of the Storm, than any way endeavouring -to _Defend_ it: His Lord, and the two generous Lovers, tho’ Harass’d -almost to Death themselves, said all they cou’d to comfort him; the Count -and Monsieur _Frankville_ consider’d his Words, rather as the Effects of -his Indisposition, and the fatigue he endur’d, than remorse for any Crime -he cou’d have been guilty of, and the pity they had for one so young and -innocent, made the cruelty of the Weather more insupportable to them. - -At last, after long wandring, and the Tempest still encreasing, one -of the Servants, who was before, was happy enough to explore a Path, -and cry’d out to his Lord with a great deal of Joy, of the Discovery -he had made; they were all of Opinion that it must lead to some House, -because the Ground was beat down, as if with the Feet of Passengers, and -entirely free from Stubble, Stones and stumps of Trees, as the other part -of the Desart they come thro’ was Encumber’d with. - -They had not rode very far before they discern’d Lights, the Reader may -imagine the Joy this Sight produc’d, and that they were not slow in -making their approach, Encourag’d by such a wish’d for Signal of Success: -When they came pretty near, they saw by the Number of Lights, which were -dispers’d in several Rooms distant from each other, that it was a very -large and magnificent House, and made no doubt, but that it was the -Country-Seat of some Person of great Quality: The wet Condition they -were in, made them almost asham’d of appearing, and they agreed not to -Discover who they were, if they found they were unknown. - -They had no sooner knock’d, than the Gate was immediately open’d by -a Porter, who asking their Business, the Count told him they were -Gentlemen, who had been so Unfortunate to mistake the Road to _Piedmont_, -and desir’d the Owners leave for Refuge in his House, for that Night; -that is a Curtesy, said the Porter, which my Lord never refuses; and in -Confidence of his Assent, I may venture to desire you to alight, and -bid you welcome: They all accepted the Invitation, and were conducted -into a stately Hall, where they waited not long before the Marquess -_De Saguillier_, having been inform’d they appear’d like People of -Condition, came himself to confirm the Character his Servant had given -of his Hospitality. He was a Man perfectly well Bred, and in spite of -the Disadvantages their Fatigue had subjected them to, he saw something -in the Countenance of these Travellers, which commanded his Respect, and -engag’d him to receive them with a more than ordinary Civility. - -Almost the first thing the Count desir’d, was, that his Page might be -taken care of; he was presently carry’d to Bed, and _Camilla_ (to whom -the Marquess made a thousand Apologies, that being a Batchellor, he cou’d -not Accommodate her, as he cou’d the Gentlemen) was show’d to a Chamber, -where some of the Maid Servants attended to put her on dry Cloaths. - -They were splendidly Entertain’d that Night, and when Morning came, -and they were preparing to take Leave, the Marquess, who was strangely -Charm’d with their Conversation, Entreated them to stay two or three -Days with him, to recover themselves of the Fatigue they had suffer’d: -The Count’s impatience to be at _Paris_, to enquire after his Dear -_Melliora_, wou’d never have permitted him to consent, if he had not -been oblig’d to it, by being told, that _Fidelio_ was grown much worse, -and not in a Condition to Travel; _Frankville_ and _Camilla_ had said -nothing, because they wou’d not Oppose the _Count_’s Inclination, but -were extreamly glad of an Opportunity to rest a little longer, tho sorry -for the Occasion. - -The Marquess omitted nothing that might make their Stay agreeable; but -tho’ he had a longing Inclination to know the Names, and Quality of -his Guests, he forbore to ask, since he found they were not free to -discover themselves: The Conversation between these accomplish’d Persons -was extreamly Entertaining, and _Camilla_, tho’ an _Italian_, spoke -_French_ well enough to make no inconsiderable part of it; the Themes of -their Discourse were various, but at last happning to mention Love, the -Marquess spoke of that Passion so feelingly, and express’d himself so -vigorously when he attempted to excuse any of those Errors, it leads its -Votaries into, that it was easy to Discover, he felt the Influence he -endeavour’d to represent. - -Night came on again, _Fidelio_’s Distemper encreas’d to that degree, -that they all began to despair of his Recovery, at least they cou’d not -hope it for a long Time, if at all, and Count _D’elmont_ fretted beyond -measure at this unavoidable delay of the progress of his Journey to -that Place, where he thought there was only a possibility of hearing of -_Melliora_: As he was in Bed, forming a thousand various Idea’s, tho’ all -tending to one Object, he heard the Chamber Door unlock, and opening his -Curtains perceiv’d somebody come in; a Candle was burning in the next -Room, and gave Light enough at the opening the Door, to show it was a -Woman, but what Sort of one he cou’d not Discern, nor did he give himself -the trouble of asking who was there, believing it might be one of the -Servants come in to fetch something she wanted, ’till coming pretty near -the Bed, she cry’d twice in a low Voice, are you a Sleep, no, answer’d -he, a little surpriz’d at this Disturbance; what wou’d you have? I come -said she, to talk to you, and I hope you are more a _Chevalier_, than to -prefer a little Sleep, to the Conversation of a Lady, tho’ she Visits you -at Midnight: These words made _D’elmont_ believe he had met with a second -_Ciamara_, and lest he shou’d find the same Trouble with this as he had -done with the former, he resolv’d to put a stop to it at once, and with -an Accent as peevish as he cou’d turn his Voice to, the Conversation of -Ladies reply’d he, is a Happiness I neither Deserve, nor much Desire at -any Time, especially at this; therefore whoever you are, to oblige me, -you must leave me to the freedom of my Thoughts, which at present afford -me matter of Entertainment more suitable to my Humour than any thing -I can find here! Oh Heavens! Said the Lady, is this the Courtly, the -Accomplish’d Count _D’elmont_? So fam’d for Complaisance and Sweetness? -Can it be he, who thus rudely Repels a Lady, when she comes to make him -a Present of her Heart? The Count was very much amaz’d to find he was -known in a Place where he thought himself wholly a Stranger, I perceive, -answer’d he, with more Ill-humour if possible, than before, you are very -well acquainted with my Name, which I shall never deny (tho’ for some -Reasons I conceal’d it) but not at all with my Character, or you wou’d -know, I can esteem the Love of a Woman, only when ’tis _Granted_, and -think it little worth acceptance, _Proffer’d_. Oh unkind! Said she, but -perhaps the sight of me, may inspire you with Sentiments less Cruel: With -these Words she went hastily out of the Room to fetch the Candle she -had left within; and the Count was so much surpriz’d and vex’d at the -Immodesty and Imprudence he believ’d her Guilty of, that he thought he -cou’d not put a greater affront upon her, than her Behaviour deserv’d, -and turn’d himself with his Face the other way, designing to deny her -the satisfaction even of a look; she return’d immediately, and having -set down the Candle pretty near the Bed, came close to it her self, and -seeing how he was laid; this is unkind indeed, said she, ’tis but one -look I ask, and if you think me unworthy of another, I will for ever shun -your Eyes: The Voice in which these Words were deliver’d, for those she -spoke before were in a feign’d Accent, made the Heart-ravish’d _D’elmont_ -turn to her indeed, with much more hast, than he had done to avoid her; -those Dear, those well-remember’d sounds infus’d an Extacy, which none -but _Melliora_’s cou’d create; he hear’d---he saw,---’twas she, that very -she, whose Loss he had so much deplor’d, and began almost to despair of -ever being able to Retrieve! Forgetting all Decorum, he flew out of the -Bed, catch’d her in his Arms, and almost stifl’d her with Kisses; which -she returning with pretty near an equal eagerness, you will not chide -me from you now she cry’d? Those who have Experienc’d any part of that -Transport, _D’elmont_ now was in, will know it was impossible for him to -give her any other Answer, than repeating his Caresses; Words were too -poor to Express what ’twas he felt, nor had he time to spare for Speech, -employ’d in a far dearer, softer Oratory, than all the force of Language -cou’d come up to! - -But, when at last, to gaze upon her with more freedom, he releas’d her -from that strict Embrace he had held her in, and she blushing, with down -cast Eyes, began to reflect on the Effects of her unbounded passion, a -sudden pang seiz’d on his Soul, and trembling, and convuls’d between -extremity of _Joy_, and extremity of _Anguish_, I find thee _Melliora_, -cry’d he; but Oh, my Angel! Where is it thou art found?---in the House -of the young Amorous _Marquess D’Sanguillier!_ Cease, cease, interrupted -she, your causeless Fears,----where ever I am found, I am,----I can be -only yours.----And if you will return to Bed, I will Inform you, not -only what Accident brought me hither, but also every particular of my -Behaviour since I came. - -These Words first put the Count in mind of the Indecency his Transport -had made him Guilty of, in being seen in that manner, and was going -hastily to throw on his Night Gown, when _Melliora_ perceiving his -Intent, and fearing he wou’d take cold, told him she wou’d not stay a -Moment, unless he granted her Request of returning to his Bed, which he, -after having made her sit down on the Side of it, at last consented to: -And contenting himself with taking one of her Hands, and pressing it -between his, close Prisoner in his Bosom, gave her Liberty to begin in -this Manner, the Discovery she had Promis’d. - -After the sad Accident of _Alovysa_’s Death, said she, at my return -to the Monastry I found a new _Pensioner_ there; it was the young -_Madamoselle Charlotta D’Mezray_, who being lately left an Orphan, was -entrusted to the Care of our _Abbess_, being her near Relation ’till -her time of Mourning was expir’d, and she shou’d be married to this -Marquess _D’Sanguillier_, at whose House we are; they were Contracted -by their Parents in their Infancy, and nothing but the sudden Death -of her Mother, had put a stop to the Consummation of what, _then_, -they both wish’d with equal Ardour: But alas! Heaven which decreed the -little Beauty I am Mistress of, shou’d be pernicious to my own repose, -ordain’d it so, that this unfaithful Lover, seeing me one Day at the -_Grate_ with _Charlotta_, shou’d fancy he found something in _Me_ more -worthy of creating a Passion, than he had in her, and began to wish -himself releas’d from his Engagement with her, that he might have -Liberty to enter into another, which he imagin’d wou’d be more pleasing: -Neither she, nor I had the least suspicion of his Sentiments, and we -having commenc’d a very great Friendship, she wou’d for the most part, -desire me to partake in the Visits he made her: He still continu’d to -make the same protestations of Affection to her as ever; but if on any -occasion, she but turn’d her Head, or cast her Eyes another way, he wou’d -give me such looks, as, tho’ I then but little regarded, I have since -understood the meaning of, but too well; in this manner he proceeded -for some Weeks, ’till at last he came one Day extreamly out of Humour, -and told _Charlotta_ the occasion of it was, that he had heard she gave -Encouragement to some other Lover; she, amaz’d, as well she might, Avow’d -her Innocence, and endeavour’d to Undeceive him, but he, who resolv’d -not to be convinc’d, at least not to seem as if he was, pretended to be -more enrag’d at what he call’d weak Excuses; said, he was satisfy’d she -was more Guilty, even than he wou’d speak,----that he knew not if it -were consistent with his Honour, ever to see her more.---And in short, -behav’d himself in so unaccountable a manner, that there was no room to -Doubt that he was either the most _Impos’d_ on, or most _Base_ of Men: -It wou’d be endless for me to endeavour to represent poor _Charlotta_’s -affliction. So I shall only say, it was answerable to the Tenderness she -had for him, which, cou’d by nothing be exceeded, but by that, continu’d -she Sighing, and looking Languishingly on him, which contrary to all the -Resolutions I had made, brings _me_ to seek the Arms of my Enchanting -_D’elmont_, to rouze Remembrance of his former Passion! To strengthen my -Idea in his Heart! And Influence him a new with Love and Softness! This -kind Digression made the Count give Truce to his _Curiosity_, that he -might Indulge the Raptures of his _Love_, and raising himself in Bed, and -pressing her slender fine proportioned Body close to his, wou’d permit -her no otherwise, than in this Posture to continue her Discourse. - -Several Days resum’d _Melliora_, were past, and we heard nothing of the -Marquess, all which, as he has since told me, were spent in fruitless -Projections to steal me from the Monastry; but at last, by the means of -a _Lay Sister_, he found means to convey a Letter to me; the Contents of -it, as near as I can remember, were these. - - [Illustration] - - _To the Divine_ MELLIORA. - - _’Tis not the falshood of CHARLOTTA, but the Charms of MELLIORA - have produc’d this Change in my Behaviour, do not therefore, - at the reading this, affect a surprize at Effects, which I - am sure cannot be uncommon to such Excellence! Nor accuse an - Inconstancy, which I rather esteem a Virtue than a Vice: To - Change from you indeed wou’d be the highest Sin, as well as - Stupidity: but to Change for you, is what all must, and ought - to do, who boast a Capacity of distinguishing. I love you, Oh - Divinest MELLIORA, I burn, I languish for you in unceasing - Torments, and you wou’d find it impossible for you to condemn - the boldness of this Declaration, if you cou’d be sensible of - the Racks which force me to it, and which must shortly End me, - if not happy enough to be receiv’d_ - - Your Lover, - - D’SANGUILLIER. - -’Tis impossible for me to express the Grief, and Vexation this Letter -gave me, but I forbore showing it to _Charlotta_, knowing how much it -would encrease her Anguish, and resolv’d when next I saw him, as I made -no doubt but I should quickly do, to use him in such a fashion, as in -spite of his Vanity, shou’d make him know I was not to be won in such -a manner; for I confess, my dear _D’elmont_, that his Timerity gave no -less a shock to my _Pride_, than his Infidelity to her I really lov’d, -did to my _Friendship_. The next Day I was told, a Gentleman enquir’d -for me, I presently imagin’d it was he, and went to the Grate, with a -Heart full of Indignation; I was not deceiv’d in my Conjecture, it was -indeed the Marquess, who appear’d on the other side, but with so much -Humility in his Eyes, and awful fear, for what he saw in Mine, as half -disarm’d my Anger for what concern’d my self, and had his Passion not -proceeded from his Inconstancy, I might have been drawn to _pity_ what -was not in my Power to Reward; but his base Usage of a Woman so deserving -as _Charlotta_, made me Express my self in Terms full of Disdain and -Detestation, and without allowing him to Reply, or make any Excuses, -pluck’d the Letter he had sent me out of my Pocket, with a design to -return it him, just at that Moment when a _Nun_ came hastily to call me -from the Grate: Some body had over-heard the beginning of what I said, -and had told the _Abbess_, who, tho’ she was not displeas’d at what she -heard of my Behaviour to him, yet she thought it improper for me to -hold any Discourse with a Man, who declar’d himself my Lover: I did -not, however, let her know who the Person was, fearing it might come to -_Charlotta_’s Ears, and encrease an Affliction, which was already too -violent: I was vext to miss the Opportunity of giving back his Letter, -but kept it still about me, not in the least Questioning, but that -boldness which had encourag’d him to make a discovery of his Desires, -wou’d again lead him to the Prosecution of them in the same manner, but -I was deceiv’d, his Passion prompted him to take other, as he believ’d, -more effectual Measures: One Day, at least a Fortnight after I had seen -the _Marquess_, as I was walking in the Garden with _Charlotta_, and -another young _Pensioner_, a Fellow who was imploy’d in taking away -Rubbish, told us there were some Statues carry’d by the Gate, which -open’d into the Fields, which were the greatest Master-pieces of Art that -had ever been seen: They are going, said he, to be plac’d in the _Seiur -Valiers_ Garden, if you step but out, you may get a Sight of them: We, -who little suspected any Deceit, run without Consideration, to satisfie -our Curiosity, but instead of the Statues we expected to see, four Living -Men disguis’d, muffl’d, and well Mounted, came Galloping up to us, and, -as it were surrounded us, before we had Time to get back to the Gate we -came out at: Three of them alighting, seiz’d me and my Companions, and I, -who was the destin’d Prey, was in a Moment thrown into the Arms of him -who was on Horseback, and who no sooner receiv’d me, than as if we had -been mounted on a _Pegasus_, we seem’d rather to _fly_ than _Ride_; in -vain I struggl’d, shriek’d, and cry’d to Heaven for help, my Prayers were -lost in Air, as quickly was my Speech, surprize, and rage, and dread, -o’rewhelm’d my sinking Spirits, and unable to sustain the Rapidity of -such violent Emotions, I fell into a Swoon, from which I recover’d not, -till was at the Door of some House, but where I yet am ignorant; the -first thing I saw, when I open’d my Eyes, was one of those Men who had -been Assistant in my carrying away, and was now about to lift me from -the Horse: I had not yet the power to Speak, but when I had, I vented -all the Passions of my Soul in terms full of Distraction and Despair: By -what means the People of the House were gain’d to my Ravishers Interest, -I know not, but they took little Notice of the Complaints I made, or my -Implorations for Succour: I had now, not the least shadow of a Hope, -that any thing but Death cou’d save me from Dishonour, and having vainly -Rag’d, I at last sate down meditating by what means I shou’d Compass that -only Relief from the worse Ruin which seem’d to threaten me: While my -Thoughts were thus employ’d, he who appear’d the chief of that insolent -Company, making a Sign that the rest shou’d withdraw, fell on his Knees -before me, and plucking off his Vizard, discover’d to me the Face of -the Marquess _D’Sanguillier_. Heavens! How did this Sight inflame me? -Mild as I am, by Nature, I that Moment was all Fury!----Till now I had -not the least Apprehension who he was, and believ’d ’twas rather my -_Fortune_ than my _Person_, which had prompted some daring Wretch to -take this Method to obtain it; but now, my Woes appear’d, if possible, -with greater Horror, and his Quality and Engagement with _Charlotta_ -made the Act seem yet more Base. I blame you not, said he, Oh Divinest -_Melliora!_ The Presumption I am guilty of, is of so high a Nature, as -justly may deserve your utmost Rigour!-----I know, and confess my Crime; -Nay, hate my self for thus offending you.--But Oh? ’Tis unavoidable.---be -then, like Heaven, who when Injured most, takes most delight to pardon: -Crimes unrepented, answer’d I, can have no plea for Mercy, still to -persist, and still to ask forgiveness, is _Mocking_ of the Power we seem -to _Implore_, and but encreases Sin.----Release me from this Captivity, -which you have betray’d me into, Restore me to the Monastry----And for -the _future_, cease to shock my Ears with Tales of violated Faith, -detested Passion! Then, I perhaps, _may_ pardon what is _past_. His reply -to all this was very little to the Purpose, only I perceiv’d he was so -far from complying with my Request, or repenting what he had done, that -he resolv’d to proceed yet further, and one of his Associates coming -in, to tell him that his Chariot, which it seems he had order’d to meet -him there, was ready, he offer’d to take me by the Hand to lead me to -it, which I refusing, with an Air which testify’d the Indignation of my -Soul, Madam, said he, you are not here less in my Power, than you will -be in a Place, where I can Accommodate you in a manner more suitable to -your Quality, and the Adoration I have for you: If I were capable of a -base Design on you, what hinders but I now might perpetrate it? But be -assur’d, your Beauties are not of that kind, which inspire Sentiments -dishonourable; nor shall you ever find any other Treatment from me, than -what might become the humblest of your Slaves; my Love, fierce as it is, -shall know it’s Limits, and never dare to Breath an Accent less Chast -than your own Virgin Dreams, and Innocent as your Desires. - -Tho’ the boldness he had been guilty of, and still persisted in, made -me give but little Credit to the latter part of his Speech, yet the -Beginning of it awak’d my Consideration to a reflection, that I cou’d not -indeed be any where in a greater danger of the Violence I fear’d, than -where I was; but on the contrary, it might so happen, that in leaving -that Place, I might possibly meet some Persons who might know me, or -at least be carry’d somewhere, whence I might with more likelihood, -make my Escape: In this last Hope, I went into the Chariot, and indeed, -to do him justice, neither in our Journey, nor since I came into his -House, has he ever violated the Promise he made me; nothing can be with -more Humility than his Addresses to me, never Visiting me without first -having obtain’d my leave! But to return to the particulars of my Story, -I had not been here many Days, before a Servant-Maid of the House, being -in my Chamber doing something about me, ask’d me if it were possible I -cou’d forget her; the Question surpriz’d me, but I was much more so, -when looking earnestly in her Face, which I had never done before, I -perfectly distinguish’d the Features of _Charlotta_: Oh Heavens! cry’d I, -_Charlotta_! The very same, said she, but I dare not stay now to unfold -the Mistery, lest any of the Family take Notice; at Night when I undress -you, you shall know the History of my Transformation. - -Never any Day seem’d so long to me as that, and I feign’d my self -indispos’d, and rung my Bell for some body to come up, several Hours -before the time I us’d to go to Bed, _Charlotta_ guessing my impatience, -took care to be in the way, and as soon as she was with me, not staying -for my Requesting it of her, begun the Information she had promis’d, in -this manner. - -You see, said she, forcing her self to put on a half smile, your unhappy -Rival follows to interrupt the Triumph of your Conquest; but I protest -to you, that if I thought you esteem’d my perjur’d Lover’s Heart an -offering worthy your Acceptance, I never wou’d have disturb’d your -happiness, and ’tis as much the Hopes of being able to be Instrumental -in serving you in your Releasment, as the prevention of that Blessing -the injurious _D’Sanguillier_ aims at, which has brought me here: Of all -the Persons that bewail’d your being carry’d away, I was the only one -who had any Guess at the Ravisher, nor had I been so wise, but that the -very Day on which it happen’d, you drop’d a Letter, which I took up, -and knowing it the _Marquess_’s Hand, made no scruple of Reading it. I -had no opportunity to upbraid you for the concealment of his falshood, -but the manner of your being seiz’d, convinc’d me you were Innocent of -favouring his Passion, and his Vizard flipping a little on one Side, as -he took you in his Arms, discover’d enough of that Face, I have so much -ador’d, for me to know who it was, that had took this Method to gain you: -I will not continu’d she, weeping, trouble you with any Recital of what -I endur’d from the Knowledge of my Misfortune, but you may judge it by -my Love, however, I bore up against the Oppressive weight, and resolv’d -to struggle with my Fate, even to the Last; I made an Excuse for leaving -the Monastry the next Day, without giving any suspicion of the Cause, -or letting any body into the Secret of the Marquess, and Disguis’d as -you see, found means to be receiv’d by the House-keeper, as a Servant, I -came here in three Days after you, and have had the opportunity of being -confirm’d by your Behaviour, of what I before believ’d, that you were far -from being an Assistant in his Design. - -Here the sorrowful _Charlotta_ finish’d her little Account, and I -testify’d the Joy I felt in seeing her, by a thousand Embraces, and all -the Protestations of Eternal Friendship to her, that I could make: All -the times we had any opportunity of Talking to each other, were spent -in forming Schemes for my Escape, but none of them appear’d feasible; -however the very Contrivance was a kind of Pleasure to me, for tho’ I -began to banish all my Fears of the Marquess’s offering any violence -to my Virtue, yet I found his Passion wou’d not permit him to suffer -my Departure, and I was almost Distracted when I had no Hopes of being -in a Capacity of hearing from you, or writing to you: In this fashion, -my dearest _D’elmont_ have I liv’d, sometimes flattering my self with -vain Projects, sometimes desponding of being ever free: But last Night, -_Charlotta_ coming up, according to her Custom, told me in a kind of -Rapture, that you, and my Brother were in the House, she, it seems -knew you at _Paris_ while her Mother was yet Living, and to make her -entirely easy as to the Marquess, I had now made her the Confidant of -my Sentiments concerning you: I need not tell you the Extacy this News -gave me, you are too well acquainted with my Heart, not to be able to -conceive it more justly than Language can Express; but I cannot forbear -Informing you of one thing, of which you are ignorant, tho’ had Prudence -any share in this Love-directed Soul, I shou’d conceal it: My impatience -to behold you, was almost equal to my Joy to think you were so near, -and transported with my eager wishes, by _Charlotta_’s Assistance, I -last Night found the way into your Chamber: I saw you, Oh _D’elmont_! My -longing Eyes enjoy’d the satisfaction they so much desir’d, but yours -were clos’d, the Fatigue of your Journey had laid you fast a Sleep, so -fast, that even Fancy was unactive, and no kind Dream, alarm’d you with -one Thought of _Melliora_! - -She cou’d not pronounce these last Words very Intelligibly, the greedy -Count devour’d ’em as she spoke, and tho’ Kisses had made many a -Parenthesis in her Discourse, yet he restrain’d himself as much as -possible, for the Pleasure of hearing her; but perceiving she was come to -a Period, he gave a loose to all the furious Transports of his ungovern’d -Passion: A while their Lips were Cemented! Rivetted together with Kisses, -such Kisses! As Collecting every Sence in one, exhale the very Soul, and -mingle Spirits! Breathless with bliss, then wou’d they pause and gaze, -then joyn again, with Ardour still encreasing, and Looks, and Sighs, and -straining Grasps were all the Eloquence that either cou’d make use of: -Fain wou’d he now have obtain’d the aim of all his Wishes, strongly he -press’d, and faintly she repuls’d: Dissolv’d in Love, and melting in his -Arms, at last she found no Words to form Denials, while he, all fire, -improv’d the lucky Moment, a thousand Liberties he took.----A thousand -Joys he reap’d, and had infallibly been possest of all, if _Charlotta_, -who seeing it broad Day, had not wonder’d at _Melliora_’s stay, and come -and knock’d at the Chamber Door, which not being fasten’d, gave way to -her Entrance, but she made not such hast, but that they had time enough -to Disengage themselves from that close Embrace they had held each other -in: Heavens! _Melliora_, cry’d the careful Interrupter, what mean you -by this stay, which may be so prejudicial to our Designs; the Marquess -is already stirring, and if he shou’d come into this Room, or send to -yours, what might be the Consequence: I come, I come, said _Melliora_, -alarm’d at what she heard, and rising from the Bed-side: Oh, you will -not, said the Count in a Whisper, and tenderly pressing her Hand, you -must not leave me thus! A few Hours hence, answer’d she aloud, I hope -to have the Power to own my self all yours, nor can the Scheme we have -laid fail of the Effects we wish, if no Discovery happens to Postpone it: -She was going with _Charlotta_ out of the Chamber, with these Words, but -remembring her self, she turn’d hastily back, let not my Brother, Resum’d -she, know my Weakness, and when you see me next, feign a surprize equal -to his own. - -It is not to be suppos’d that after she was gone, _D’elmont_, tho’ kept -awake all Night, cou’d suffer any Sleep to enter his Eyes; excess of Joy -of all the Passions, hurries the Spirits most, and keeps ’em longest -busied: _Anger_ or _Grief_, rage violently at first, but quickly flag, -and sink at last into a Lethargy, but _Pleasure_ warms, exhillerates the -Soul, and every rapturous Thought infuses new Desires, new Life, and -added Vigour. - -The Marquess _D’Sanguillier_ was no less happy in imagination than the -Count, and it was the force of that Passion which had rouz’d him so early -that Morning, and made him wait impatiently for his Guests coming out -of their Chambers, for he wou’d not disturb them: As soon as they were -all come into the Drawing-Room, I know not Messiures, said he, with a -Voice and Eyes wholly chang’d from those he wore the Day before, whether -you have ever Experienc’d the force of Love to that Degree that I have, -but I dare believe you have Generosity enough to rejoyce in the good -Fortune I am going to be possess’d of; and when I shall inform you how -I have long languish’d in a Passion, perhaps, the most extravagant that -ever was, you will confess the Justice of that God, who soon or late, -seldom suffers his faithful Votaries to miss their Reward: The Count -cou’d not force himself to a Reply to these Words, but _Frankville_ and -_Camilla_, who were entirely Ignorant of the Cause of them, heartily -Congratulated him. I am Confident, resum’d the Marquess, that Despair -has no Existance but in weak and timerous Minds, all Women may be won -by Force or Stratagem, and tho’ I had, almost, invincible Difficulties -to struggle with, Patience, Constancy, and a bold and artful Management -has at length surmounted them: Hopeless by Distant Courtship to obtain -the _Heart_ of my Adorable, I found means to make my self Master of her -_Person_, and by making no other use of the Power I had over her, than -humbly Sighing at her Feet, convinc’d her my Designs were far from being -Dishonourable; and last Night, looking on me, with more kindness than -she had ever done before: My Lord, said she, your Usage of me has been -too Noble, not to vanquish what ever Sentiments I may have been possest -with to your Prejudice, therefore since you have Company in the House, -who may be Witness of what I do, I think I cannot chuse a fitter time, -than this, to bestow my self, before them, on him who most Deserves me: -I will not now, continu’d he, delay the Confirmation of my Happiness so -long, as to go about to describe the Extacy I felt, for this so wish’d, -and so unhop’d a Condescension, but when, hereafter, you shall be told -the whole History of my Passion, you will be better able to conceive -it; the Marquess had scarce done speaking, when his Chaplain came into -the Room, saying, he believ’d it was the Hour his Lordship order’d him -to attend; it is! it is, cry’d the transported Marquess. Now my worthy -Guests you shall behold the lovely Author of my Joys; with these Words -he left them, but immediately return’d, leading the intended Bride: -Monsieur _Frankville_, tho’ he had not seen his Sister in some Years, -knew her at the first Glimpse, and the Surprize of meeting her----Meeting -her in so unexpected a manner was so great, that his Thoughts were -quite confounded with it, and he cou’d no otherwise Express it, than -by throwing his Eyes wildly, sometimes on her, sometimes on the Count, -and sometimes on the Marquess; the Count tho’ appris’d of this, felt a -Consternation for the Consequence little inferior to his, and both being -kept silent by their different Agitations, and the Marquess, by the -sudden Change, which he perceiv’d in their Countenances, _Melliora_ had -liberty to explain her self in this manner. I have kept my Word, my Lord, -said she to the Marquess, this Day shall give me to him who best deserves -me; but who that is, my Brother and Count _D’elmont_ must determine, -since Heaven has restor’d them to me, all Power of disposing of my self -must cease; ’tis they must, henceforth, rule the will of _Melliora_, and -only their consent can make me yours; all Endeavours wou’d be vain to -represent the Marquess’s confusion at this sudden Turn, and ’tis hard to -say whether his Astonishment, or Vexation was greatest; her Brother he -wou’d little have regarded, not doubting but his Quality, and the Riches -he was possest of, wou’d easily have gain’d his Compliance; but Count -_D’elmont_, tho’ he knew him not (having, for some disgust he receiv’d -at Court, been many Years absent from _Paris_,) yet he had heard much -talk of him; and the Passion he had for _Melliora_, by the Adventure -of _Alovysa_’s Death, had made too great a Noise in the World not to -have reach’d his Ears; he stood Speechless for some time, but when he -had a little recover’d himself, have you then Deceiv’d me, Madam, Said -he? No, answer’d she, I am still ready to perform my promise, whenever -these Gentlemen shall command me.----The one my Brother, the other my -Guardian, obtain but their Consent, and----Mine, he can never have, -Interrupted _Frankville_ hastily, and laying his Hand on his Sword. Nor -mine, cry’d the Count, while I have Breath to form Denials, or my Arm -strength to Guard my Beauteous Charge; hold Brother,----Hold, my Lord, -said _Melliora_, fearing their Fury wou’d produce some fatal Effects, the -_Marquess_ has been so truly Noble, that you rather ought to Thank, than -resent his Treatment of me, and tho’ I see Rage in _your_ Eyes, and all -the Stings of disappointment glowing fierce in _his_, yet I have Hopes, a -general Content may Crown the End.----Appear! Continu’d she, raising her -Voice, appear! Thou lovely faithful Maid! Come forth and Charm thy roving -Lovers Heart again to Constancy, to Peace, and thee! She had no sooner -spoke, then _Charlotta_ entred, drest like a Bride indeed, in a Suit of -Cloaths, which she had brought with her, in case any happy Opportunity -shou’d arise for her to discover herself: If the _Marquess_ was before -confounded, how much more so was he now? That injur’d Ladies Presence, -just at this juncture, and the Surprize by what means she came there, -made him utterly unable to resolve on any thing, which she observing, -and taking advantage of his Confusion, run to him, and catching hold -of his Hand; wonder not my Lord, said she, to see _Charlotta_ here, -nothing is impossible to Love like mine, tho’ slighted and abandon’d -by you, still I pursue your Steps with Truth, with Tenderness, and -Constancy untir’d!---Then, perceiving he still was silent, come, my -Lord, continu’d she, you must at last take Pity on my Sufferings, my -Rival, Charming as she is, wants a just sensibility of your Deserts, -and is by that, less worthy even than I; Oh, then remember, if not to -me, what ’tis you owe your self your own exhalted Merits, and you will -soon determine in my Favour, and confess that she, who knows you best, -ought most to have you; she spoke these Words in so moving an Accent, -and they were accompany’d with so many Tears, that the most rocky Heart -must have relented, and that the Marquess was sensibly touch’d with ’em, -his Countenance Testify’d, when sighing, and turning his Head a little -away, not with disdain, but Remorse, for the Infidelity he had been -guilty of: Oh, cease, said he, this Flood of Softness, it gives me Pains -I never felt before, for ’tis impossible you can forgive---Oh Heaven! -cry’d the transported _Charlotta_, all you have done, or ever can do of -Unkindness, is by one tender Word made full amends for; see at your Feet, -(continued she, falling on her Knees) thus in this humble Posture, which -best becomes my prostrate Soul, I beg you to accept the Pardon which I -bring, to banish from your Mind all Thoughts that you have injured me, -and leave it free from all the generous Joys, the making others happy, -must create: This Action of _Charlotta_’s, join’d to the Reflection, how -strangely every Thing happen’d to prevent his Designs on the other, won -him entirely, and raising her with a tender Embrace, put it out of her -Power to regret his ever being False, since his Return gave her a Taste -of Joys, which are not, but in Reconciliation to be found. - -The Count, Monsieur _Frankville_, and the two Ladies who had waited all -this while in an impatient Expectation for the end of this Affair, now -paid their several Congratulations, all highly applauding the Constancy -of _Charlotta_, and the timely Repentance of the Marquess: These -Ceremonies being over, the Marquess desir’d _Charlotta_ to acquaint him -by what means she had gain’d Admittance to his House unknown to him; -which Curiosity she immediately satisfying, engag’d a new, the Praises of -the whole Company, and more endear’d herself to her belov’d Marquess’s -Affections. - -Tranquility now reign’d in those Hearts, which lately heav’d with various -and disturb’d Emotions, and Joy sate smiling upon every Cheek, entirely -happy in their several Wishes: They could now talk of past Woes with -Pleasure, and began to enter into a very delightful Conversation, when -_Frankville_ on a sudden missing _Camilla_, and asking for her, one of -the Servants told him she was gone to the Sick Page’s Chamber, this News -gave him some little alarm, and the rather, because he had observ’d she -expressed a more than ordinary Tenderness and Care for this Page, all -the Time of their Journey; he ran immediately to the Room where he heard -she was, and found her lying on the Bed, with her Arms round _Fidelio_’s -Neck, and her Face close to his; this shocking Sight had certainly -driven the Rashness of his Temper to commit some Deed of Horror, if the -Amazement he was in had not prevented it; he drew his Sword half out, but -then, as if some Spell had charm’d his Arm, remain’d in that Posture, -fix’d and motionless as Marble: _Camilla_ half blinded with the Tears -which fell from her Eyes, saw not the Confusion he was in, nor considered -the seeming Reason he had to be so, but raising her Head a little to see -who it was that came into the Chamber, Oh _Frankville_! said she, see -here the Ruins of Love, behold the Tyranny of that fatal Passion in this -expiring Fair! But haste, contin’d she, finding him ready to faint, let -Count _D’elmont_ know, the faithful, generous _Violetta_! Dies---she dies -for him, and asks no other Recompence, than a last Farewell--_Violetta_! -interrupted _Frankville_, what means _Camilla_? This, this is _Violetta_, -resum’d she, who like a Page disguis’d, has followed the too lovely -Count, and lost herself: The Rage which at his first Entrance had possest -the Heart of _Frankville_, now gave Way to Grief, and coming near the -Bed, he began to testify it, by all the Marks which an unfeign’d Concern -cou’d give; but this unfortunate Languisher, finding her Strength decay, -prevented him from making any long Speeches, by renewing that Request -which _Camilla_ had already made known, of seeing her dear Lord before -she dy’d, which _Frankville_ making haste to fulfil, she call’d to him -as loud as her Weakness would permit to come back, and as soon as he -was, _Camilla_, said she, has inform’d me of my Lord’s good Fortune in -meeting with the Charmer of his Soul, I would not deprive him of a -Moments Happiness. I therefore beg she’d give a dying Rival, leave to -wish her Joy, and as neither my Death, nor the Cause of it can be a -Secret to any of the Company here, I desire they all may be Witnesses, -with what Pleasure I welcome it; _Frankville_, Fiery as he was, had a -vast deal of Compassion in his Nature, and could not see so beautiful a -young Lady, and one whom he had so many Obligations to, on the Account -of his Affair with _Camilla_, in this despairing and dying Condition, -without being seiz’d with an Anguish inexpressible; but all the Pangs -he felt were nothing when compar’d to those he gave _D’elmont_ in the -Delivery of her Message; he ran into the Room like a Man distracted, -and in the Hurry of his Grief forgot even the Complaisance he ow’d -to _Melliora_, but she was too generous to disapprove his Concern, -immediately followed with her Brother, the Marquess and _Charlotta_: -What is it that I hear Madam, cry’d the Count, throwing himself on the -Bed by her? Can it be possible that the admir’d _Violetta_ cou’d forsake -her Father,---Country,---Friends,---forego her Sexes Pride,---the Pomp -of Beauty,---gay Dresses, and all the Equipage of State and Grandeur; -to follow in a mean Disguise, a Man unworthy her Thoughts? Oh! no more, -said she, weeping, you are but too, too worthy Adoration; nor do I yet -believe my Love a Crime, tho’ the Consequence is so: I might in _Rome_, -with Honour and Innocence have died, but by my shameful Flight, I was the -Murderer of my Father---that---that’s a Guilt, which all these Floods of -Penitence can never wash away---Yet, bear me Witness Heaven, how little -I suspected the sad Event, when first, unable to support your Absence, -I contriv’d this Way, unknown, to keep for ever in your Sight; I lov’d, -’tis true, but if one unchaste Wish, or an impure Desire e’er stain’d my -Soul, then may the purging Fire to which I am going, miss its Effect, -my Spots remain, and not one Saint vouchsafe to own me: Here the Force -of her Passion, agitating her Spirits with too much Violence for the -Weakness of her Body, she sunk fainting in the Bed: And tho’ the Count -and _Camilla_ felt the most deeply her Afflictions, the one because they -proceeded from her Love to him, and the other as having long been her -Friend, and Partner of her Secrets, yet those in the Company who were -most Strangers to her, participated in her Sufferings, and commiserated -the Woes they could not heal; and as soon as she recovered from her -Swoon, the generous _Melliora_ (not in the least possest with any of -those little Jealousies, which Women of narrow Souls harbour on such -Occasions) came nearer to the Bed, and taking her kindly by the Hand, -Live and be comforted, said she, a Love so innocent shall never give me -any Disquiet.---Live and Enjoy the Friendship of my Lord, and if you -please to favour me with yours, I shall esteem it as it deserves, a -Blessing. No Madam, answered the now almost Expiring _Violetta_, Life, -after this shameful Declaration, wou’d be the worst of Punishments, but, -not to be Ungrateful to so generous an Offer, for a few Moments I accept -it, and like Children, placing their darling Play things on their Pillow, -and then contented to go to Sleep, so I would keep your Lord, would view -him still while I awake to Life, then drop insensibly into a Slumber of -eternal Peace. This mournful Tenderness pierc’d _D’elmont_, to the very -Soul, and putting his Arm gently under her Head, which, he perceiv’d she -was too weak to raise when she endeavoured it, and laying his Face on one -of her Hands, cou’d not forbear washing it in Tears, she felt the cordial -Drops, and, as if they gave her a new Vigour, exerting her Voice to the -utmost of her Strength; this is too kind, said she, I now can feel none -of those Agonies which render Death the King of Terrors, and thus, thus -happy in your Sight,------your Touch------your tender Pity, I can but be -Translated from one Heaven to another, and yet, forgive me Heaven, if it -be a Sin, I cou’d wish, methinks, to know no other Paradise than you, -to be permitted to hover round you, to Form your Dreams, to sit upon -your Lips all Day, to mingle with your Breath, and glide in unfelt Air -into your Bosom: She wou’d have proceeded, but her Voice faultered in the -Accent, and all she spoke distinguishable was, Oh _D’elmont_! receive in -this one Sigh, my latest Breath-----it was indeed her last, she died that -Moment, died in his Arms, whom more than Life she priz’d, and sure there -are none who have liv’d in the Anxieties of Love, who wou’d not envy such -a Death! - -There was not in this noble Company, one whose Eyes were dry, but Count -_D’elmont_ was for some Time inconsolable, even by _Melliora_; he forbore -the celebrating of his so eagerly desired Nuptials, as did the Marquess -and Monsieur _Frankville_ theirs, in Complaisance to him, ’till after -_Violetta_ was interr’d, which the Count took Care should be in a Manner -becoming her Quality, her Merit, and the Esteem he profess’d to have born -her: But when this melancholly Scene was past, a Day of Joy succeeded, -and one happy Hour confirm’d the Wishes of the three longing Bridegrooms; -the Weddings were all kept in a splendid Manner at the Marquess’s, and -it was not with out a great deal of Reluctance, that he and _Charlotta_ -suffered the Count, Monsieur _Frankville_, and their Ladies to take -leave of them. When they came to _Paris_, they were joyfully received by -the Chevalier _Brillian_ and _Ansellina_, and those, who in the Count’s -Absence had taken a Liberty of censuring and condemning his Actions, aw’d -by his Presence, and in Time, won by his Virtues, now swell his Praises -with an equal Vehemence: Both he and _Frankville_ are still living, blest -with a numerous and hopeful Issue, and continue with their fair Wives, -great and lovely Examples of conjugal Affection. - -_FINIS._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -BOOKS Printed for, and Sold by D. BROWNE, without _Temple-Bar_ - - -1. A Collection of Poems on various Subjects. By Sir _Richard Blackmore_, -Kt. M. D. Fellow of the Royal Colledge of Physicians. - -2. The Art of _English_ Poetry. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Love in Excess</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>or, the Fatal Enquiry, A Novel in Three Parts</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Eliza Fowler Haywood</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 12, 2022 [eBook #67612]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Fay Dunn and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE IN EXCESS ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> -<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="450" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><i>E. Kirkall fec.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="tp"> - -<h1><i>LOVE in Excess</i>;<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">or the<br /> -<span class="larger">Fatal Enquiry,</span><br /> -a</span><br /> -NOVEL.</h1> - -<div class="bt bb"> - -<p class="titlepage">In <span class="smcap">Three PARTS</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="bb"> - -<p class="titlepage">By Mrs. HAYWOOD.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">----<i>In vain from Fate we fly,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>For first or last, as all must die,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>So ’tis as much decreed above,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>That first or last, we all must Love.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Lansdown.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="bt bb"> - -<p class="titlepage">The Fourth <span class="smcap">Edition</span> Corrected.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="bt"> - -<p class="titlepage"><i>LONDON</i>:<br /> -Printed for <span class="smcap">D. Browne</span> <i>jun.</i> at the <i>Black Swan</i> without -<i>Temple Bar</i>. <span class="smcap">Mdccxxii.</span></p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-dedication.jpg" width="700" height="140" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="smaller">TO</span><br /> -Mrs. <span class="smcap">Eliz. Haywood</span>,<br /> -<span class="smaller">ON HER</span><br /> -<span class="larger">NOVEL</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">CALL’D</span><br /> -<i>Love <span class="antiqua">in</span> Excess</i>, &c.</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i><span class="smcap">Fain</span> wou’d I here my vast Ideas raise,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>To paint the Wonders of <span class="antiqua">Eliza</span>’s praise;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>But like young Artists where their Stroaks decay,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>I shade those Glories which I can’t display.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Thy Prose in sweeter Harmony refines,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Than Numbers flowing thro’ the Muse’s Lines;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>What Beauty ne’er cou’d melt, thy Touches fire,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And raise a Musick that can Love inspire;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Soul-thrilling Accents all our Senses wound,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And Strike with softness, whilst they Charm with sound!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>When thy <span class="smcap">Count</span> pleads, what Fair his Suit can flye?</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Or when thy Nymph laments, what Eyes are dry?</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Ev’n Nature’s self in Sympathy appears,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Yeilds Sigh for Sigh, and melts in equal Tears;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>For such Descriptions thus at once can prove</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>The Force of Language, and the Sweets of Love.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>The Myrtle’s Leaves with those of Fame entwine,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And all the Glories of that Wreath are thine?</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>As Eagles can undazzl’d view the Force</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Of scorching <span class="antiqua">Phœbus</span> in his Noon-day Course;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Thy Genius to the God its Luster plays,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Meets his fierce Beams, and darts him Rays for Rays!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Oh Glorious Strength! Let each succeeding Page</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Still boast those Charms and luminate the Age;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>So shall thy beamful Fires with Light divine</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Rise to the Sphere, and there triumphant Shine.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Richard Savage.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> -<img src="images/footer1.jpg" width="300" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-epigram.jpg" width="700" height="140" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="smaller">By an unknown Hand.<br /> -To the most Ingenious Mrs <span class="smcap">Haywood</span>,<br /> -on her NOVEL Entitled,</span><br /> -<span class="larger"><i>Love in Excess:</i></span></h2> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>A Stranger Muse, an Unbeliever too,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>That Womens Souls such Strength of Vigour knew!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Nor less an Atheist to Love’s Power declar’d,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Till <span class="smcap">You</span> a Champion for the Sex appear’d!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>A Convert now, to both, I feel that Fire</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i><span class="smcap">Your</span> Words alone can paint! <span class="smcap">Your</span> Looks inspire!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Resistless now, Love’s shafts new pointed fly,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Wing’d with <span class="smcap">Your</span> Flame, and blazing in <span class="smcap">Your</span> Eye.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>With sweet, but pow’rful Force, the Charm-shot Heart</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Receives th’ Impression of the Conqu’ring Dart,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And ev’ry Art’ry huggs the Joy-tipt Smart!</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>No more of <span class="antiqua">Phœbus</span>, rising vainly boast,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Ye tawny Sons of a luxuriant Coast!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>While our blest Isle is with such Rays replete,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i><span class="antiqua">Britain</span> shall glow with more than Eastern Heat!</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break1.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="larger">VERSES</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">Wrote in the Blank Leaf of</span><br /> -Mrs. <i>Haywood</i>’s <span class="smcap">Novel</span>.</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i><span class="smcap">Of</span> all the Passions given us from above,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>The Noblest, Truest, and the Best, is Love;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Tis Love awakes the Soul, informs the Mind,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And bends the stubborn Temper to be kind,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Abates the Edge of ev’ry poi’nant Care</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Succeeds the Wishes of the trembling Fair,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And ravishes the Lover from Despair.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Tis Love <span class="antiqua">Eliza</span>’s soft Affections fires,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i><span class="antiqua">Eliza</span> writes, but Love alone inspires;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Tis Love, that gives <span class="antiqua">D’Elmont</span> his manly Charms,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And tears <span class="antiqua">Amena</span> from her Father’s Arms;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Relieves the Fair one from her Maiden Fear,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And gives <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span> all her Soul holds dear,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>A generous Lover, and a Bliss sincere.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>Receive, my Fair, the Story, and approve,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>The Cause of <span class="antiqua">Honour</span>, and the Cause of <span class="antiqua">Love</span>;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>With kind Concern, the tender Page peruse,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And aid the Infant Labours of the Muse.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>So never may those Eyes forget to shine,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And bright <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span>’s Fortune be as Thine;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>On thy best Looks, an happy <span class="antiqua">D’Elmont</span> feed,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And all the Wishes of thy Soul succeed.</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-part1.jpg" width="700" height="225" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LOVE in EXCESS:<br /> -<span class="smaller">OR, THE</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Fatal Enquiry</span>.</h2> - -<div class="bt bb tp"> - -<h2><span class="smcap">Part</span> the <span class="smcap">First</span>.</h2> - -</div> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-i.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap"><span class="smcap">In</span> the late War between the <i>French</i> and -the <i>Confederate</i> Armies, there were two -<span class="smcap">Brothers</span>, who had acquir’d a -more than ordinary Reputation, under -the Command of the great and intrepid -<span class="smcap">Luxembourgh</span>. But the Conclusion -of the Peace taking away any further Occasions -of shewing their Valour, the Eldest of ’em, whose -Name was <span class="smcap">Count D’elmont</span>, return’d to <span class="smcap">Paris</span>, -from whence he had been absent two Years, leaving -his Brother at St. <span class="smcap">Omer</span>’s, ’till the Cure of some -slight Wounds were perfected.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Fame of the <i>Count</i>’s brave Actions arriv’d -before him, and he had the Satisfaction of being receiv’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span> -by the <span class="smcap">King</span> and <span class="smcap">Court</span>, after a Manner -that might gratify the Ambition of the proudest. -The Beauty of his Person, the Gayity of his Air, and -the unequal’d Charms of his Conversation, made him -the Admiration of both Sexes; and whilst those of -his <i>own</i> strove which should gain the largest share in -his Friendship; the <i>other</i> vented fruitless Wishes, -and in secret, curs’d that Custom which forbids Women -to make a Declaration of their Thoughts. Amongst -the Number of these, was <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, a Lady -descended (by the Father’s Side) from the Noble -Family of the <span class="smcap">D’ La Tours</span> formerly Lord of -<span class="smcap">Beujey</span>, and (by her Mothers) from the equally Illustrious -House of <span class="smcap">Montmorency</span>. The late Death -of her Parents had left her Coheiress (with her Sister,) -of a vast Estate.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, if her Passion was not greater than the -rest, her Pride, and the good Opinion she had of her -self, made her the less able to support it; she sigh’d, -she burn’d, she rag’d, when she perceiv’d the Charming -<span class="smcap">D’Elmont</span> behav’d himself toward her with -no Mark of a distinguishing Affection. What (said -she) have I beheld without Concern a Thousand Lovers -at my Feet, and shall the only Man I ever endeavour’d, -or wish’d to Charm, regard me with Indifference? -Wherefore has the agreeing World join’d -with my deceitful Glass to flatter me into a vain Belief -I had invincible Attractions? <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> sees -’em not! <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> is insensible. Then would she -fall into Ravings, sometimes cursing her own want of -Power, sometimes the Coldness of <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>. Many -Days she pass’d in these Inquietudes, and every -time she saw him (which was very frequently) either -at Court, at Church, or publick Meetings, she -found fresh Matter for her troubled Thoughts to work -upon: When on any Occasion he happen’d to speak -to her, it was with that Softness in his Eyes, and -that engaging tenderness in his Voice, as would half -persuade her, that, that God had touch’d his Heart,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span> -which so powerfully had Influenc’d hers; but if a -glimmering of such a Hope gave her a Pleasure inconceivable, -how great were the ensuing Torments, -when she observ’d those Looks and Accents were -but the Effects of his natural Complaisance, and that -to whomsoever he Address’d, he carried an equality -in his Behaviour, which sufficiently evinc’d, his Hour -was not yet come to feel those Pains he gave; and -if the afflicted fair Ones found any Consolation, it -was in the Reflection, that no Triumphant Rival -could boast a Conquest, each now despair’d of gaining. -But the impatient <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> disdaining to be -rank’d with those, whom her Vanity made her consider -as infinitely her Inferiors, suffer’d her self to be -agitated almost to Madness, between the two Extreams -of Love and Indignation; a thousand <i>Chimeras</i> came -into her Head, and sometimes prompted her to discover -the Sentiments she had in his Favour: But these -Resolutions were rejected, almost as soon as form’d, -and she could not fix on any for a long time; ’till at -last, Love (ingenious in Invention,) inspir’d her with -one, which probably might let her into the Secrets of -his Heart, without the Shame of revealing her -own.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Celebration of Madam the Dutchess of <span class="smcap">Burgundy</span>’s -Birth-day being Solemniz’d with great Magnificence; -she writ this <i>Billet</i> to him on the Night -before.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break2.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Resistless</span> as you are in War, you are much -more so in Love; Here you conquer without making -an Attack, and we Surrender before you -Summons; the Law of Arms obliges you to show Mercy<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span> -to an yielding Enemy, and sure the Court cannot inspire -less generous Sentiments than the Field. The little God -lays down his Arrows at your Feet, confesses your superior -Power, and begs a Friendly Treatment; he will -appear to you to morrow Night at the Ball, in the Eyes -of the most passionate of all his Votresses; search therefore -for him in Her, in whom (amongst that bright Assembly) -you would most desire to find Him; I am confident -you have too much Penetration to miss of him, if -not bypass’d by a former Inclination, and in that Hope, -I shall (as patiently as my Expectations will let me) -support, ’till then, the tedious Hours.</i></p> - -<p class="right">Farewell.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> she sent by a trusty Servant, and so disguis’d, -that it was impossible for him to be known, with a -strict Charge to deliver it to the <i>Count</i>’s own Hands, -and come away before he had read it; the Fellow -perform’d her Orders exactly, and when the <i>Count</i>, -who was not a little surpriz’d at the first opening it, -ask’d for the Messenger, and commanded he should -be stay’d; his Gentleman (who then was waiting in -his Chamber,) told him he ran down Stairs with all -the speed imaginable, immediately on his Lordship’s -receiving it. <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> having never experienc’d -the Force of Love, could not presently comprehend -the Truth of this Adventure; at first he imagin’d some -of his Companions had caus’d this Letter to be wrote, -either to sound his Inclinations, or upbraid his little -Disposition to Gallantry; but these Cogitations soon -gave Place to others; and tho’ he was not very vain, -yet he found it no difficulty to perswade himself to an -Opinion, that it was possible for a Lady to distinguish -him from other Men. Nor did he find any thing so -unpleasing in that Thought as might make him endeavour -to repell it; the more he consider’d his own Perfections, -the more he was confirm’d in his Belief, -but who to fix it on, he was at a Loss as much as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span> -ever; then he began to reflect on all the Discourse, -and little Railleries that had pass’d between him and the -Ladies whom he had convers’d with since his Arrival, -but cou’d find nothing in any of ’em of Consequence -enough to make him guess at the Person: He -spent great part of the Night in Thoughts very different -from those he was accustom’d to, the Joy which -naturally rises from the Knowledge ’tis in one’s Power -to give it, gave him Notions which till then he was a -Stranger to; he began to consider a Mistress as an agreeable, -as well as fashionable Amusement, and resolv’d -not to be Cruel.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the mean time poor <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was in all the -Anxiety imaginable, she counted every Hour, and -thought ’em Ages, and at the first dawn of Day she -rose, and calling up her Women, who were amaz’d to -find her so uneasy, she employ’d ’em in placing her Jewels -on her Cloaths to the best Advantage, while she -consulted her Glass after what Manner she should Dress, -her Eyes, the gay; the languishing, the sedate, the commanding, -the beseeching Air, were put on a thousand -times, and as often rejected; and she had scarce determin’d -which to make use of, when her Page brought -her Word, some Ladies who were going to Court desir’d -her to accompany them; she was too impatient not -to be willing to be one of the first, so went with them -immediately, arm’d with all her Lightnings, but full -of unsettled Reflections. She had not been long in the -Drawing Room, before it grew very full of Company, -but <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> not being amongst ’em, she had -her Eyes fix’d towards the Door, expecting every Moment -to see him enter; but how impossible is it to represent -her Confusion, when he appear’d, leading the -young <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, Daughter to Monsieur <i>Sanseverin</i>, a -Gentleman, who tho’ he had a very small Estate, and -many Children, had by a partial Indulgence, too common -among Parents, neglecting the rest, maintain’d -this Darling of his Heart in all the Pomp of Quality. The -Beauty and Sweetness of this Lady was present-Death<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> -to <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>’s Hope’s; she saw, or fancy’d -she saw an usual Joy in her Eyes, and dying Love in -his; Disdain, Despair, and Jealousie at once crowded -into her Heart, and swell’d her almost to bursting; and -’twas no wonder that the violence of such terrible -Emotions kept her from regarding the Discourses of -those who stood by her, or the Devoirs that <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -made as he pass’d by, and at length threw her -into a Swoon; the Ladies ran to her assistance, and her -charming Rival, being one of her particular Acquaintance, -shew’d an extraordinary assiduity in applying -Means for her Relief, they made what hast they cou’d -to get her into another Room, and unfasten her Robe, -but were a great while before they could bring her to -herself; and when they did, the Shame of having been -so disorder’d in such an Assembly, and the Fears of their -suspecting the Occasion, added to her former Agonies, -had rack’d her with most terrible Revulsions, every one -now despairing of her being able to assist at that Night’s -Entertainment, she was put into her Chair, in order -to be carry’d Home; <span class="smcap">Amena</span> who little thought how -unwelcome she was grown, would needs have one -call’d, and accompany’d her thither, in spight of the -Intreaties of <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, who had before engag’d her -for his Partner in Dancing; not that he was in Love -with her, or at that time believ’d he cou’d be touch’d -with a Passion which he esteem’d a Trifle in it self, -and below the Dignity of a Man of Sense; but Fortune -(to whom this Lady no less enamour’d than -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>) had made a thousand Invocations, seem’d -to have allotted her the glory of his first Addresses; she -was getting out of her Chariot just as he alighted from -his, and offering her his Hand, he perceiv’d hers trembled, -which engaging him to look upon her more -earnestly than he was wont, he immediately fancy’d he -saw something of that languishment in her Eyes, which -the obliging Mandate had describ’d: <span class="smcap">Amena</span> was -too lovely to make that Belief disagreeable, and he resolv’d -on the Beginnings of an Amour, without giving -himself the trouble of considering the Consequences;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span> -the Evening being extreamly pleasant, he ask’d if she -wou’d not favour him so far as to take a turn or two -within the Palace-Garden; She who desir’d nothing -more than such a particular Conversation, was not at -all backward of complying; he talk’d to her there for -some time, in a manner as could leave her no room to -doubt he was entirely Charm’d, and ’twas the Air such -an Entertainment had left on both their Faces, as produc’d -those sad Effects in the jealous <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>. She -was no sooner led to her Apartment, but she desir’d to -be put to Bed, and the good natur’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, who -really had a very great kindness for her, offer’d to quit -the Diversions of the Ball, and stay with her all Night; -but the unfortunate <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was not in a Condition to -endure the Presence of any, especially her, so put her off -as civilly as her Anxiety would give her leave, chusing -rather to suffer her to return to the Ball, than retain -so hateful an Object (as she was now become) in her -sight; and ’tis likely the other was not much troubled -at her Refusal. But how, (when left alone, and abandon’d -to the whirlwinds of her Passion,) the desperate -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> behav’d, none but those, who like her, -have burn’d in hopeless Fires can guess, the most lively -Description wou’d come far short of what she felt; -she rav’d, she tore her Hair and Face, and in the extremity -of her Anguish was ready to lay violent Hands -on her own Life. In this Tempest of Mind, she continu’d -for some time, till at length rage beginning to -dissipate it self in Tears, made way for cooler Considerations; -and her natural Vanity resuming its Empire -in her Soul, was of no little Service to her on this Occasion. -Why am I thus disturb’d? Mean Spirited as -I am! Said she, <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> is ignorant of the Sentiments -I am possess’d with in his favour; and perhaps -’tis only want of Incouragement that has so long depriv’d -me of my Lover; my Letter bore no certain -Mark by which he might distinguish me, and who -knows what Arts that Creature might make use of -to allure him. I will therefore (persu’d she, with a -more cheerful Countenance) direct his erring Search.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> -As she was in this Thought (happily for her, who else -might have relaps’d) her Women who were waiting -in the next Room, came in to know if she wanted -any thing; yes, answer’d she, with a Voice and Eyes -wholly chang’d, I’ll rise, one of you help me on with -my Cloaths, and let the other send <span class="smcap">Charlo</span> to me, -I have instant Business with him. ’Twas in vain for -’em to represent to her the Prejudice it might be to her -Health to get out of her Bed at so unseasonable an Hour, -it being then just Midnight: They knew her too absolute -a Mistress not to be obey’d, and executed her Commands, -without disputing the Reason. She was -no sooner ready, than <span class="smcap">Charlo</span> was introduc’d who -being the same Person that carry’d the Letter to <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -guess’d what Affair he was to be concern’d -in, and shut the Door after him. I commend your -Caution, said his Lady, for what I am now going to -trust you with, is of more concernment than my Life. -The Fellow bow’d, and made a thousand Protestations -of an eternal Fidelity. I doubt it not, resum’d she, go -then immediately to the <i>Court</i>, ’tis not impossible but -in this hurry you may get into the Drawing Room; -but if not, make some pretence to stay as near as you -can ’till the Ball be over; listen carefully to all Discourses -where you hear <span class="smcap">Count D’elmont</span> mention’d, -enquire who he Dances with, and above all, watch -what Company he comes out with, and bring -me an exact Account. Go, continu’d she hastily, -these are all the Orders I have for you to Night, but -to Morrow I shall employ you farther. Then turning -to her <i>Escritore</i>, she sat down, and began to prepare a -second Letter, which she hop’d wou’d be more lucky -than the former. She was not long writing, Love -and Wit, suggested a World of passionate and agreeable -Expressions to her in a Moment: But when she had -finish’d this so full a Discovery of her Heart, and was -about to sign her Name to it; not all that Passion -which had inspir’d her with a Resolution to scruple nothing -that might advance the compassing her Wishes, nor -the vanity which assur’d her of Success, were forcible<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> -enough to withstand the shock it gave her Pride; No, -let me rather die! Said she, (starting up and frighted at her -own Designs) than be guilty of a Meanness which wou’d -render me unworthy of Life, Oh Heavens! To offer -Love, and poorly sue for Pity! ’tis insupportable! -What bewitch’d me to harbour such a Thought as -even the vilest of my Sex wou’d blush at? To pieces -then (added she, tearing the Paper) with this shameful -Witness of my Folly, my furious Desires may be -the destruction of my Peace, but never of my Honour, -that shall still attend my Name when Love and -Life are fled. She continu’d in this Temper (without -being able to compose herself to rest) till Day began -to appear, and <span class="smcap">Charlo</span> returned with News -which confirmed her most dreaded Suspicions. He -told her that he had gain’d admittance to the Drawing -Room several Times, under pretence of delivering -Messages to some of the Ladies; that the whole Talk -among ’em was, that <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, was no longer insensible -of Beauty; that he observ’d that Gentleman in -very particular Conference with <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, and that -he waited on her Home in his Chariot, her own not -being in the way, I know it, said <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> (walking -about in a disorder’d Motion) I did not doubt but -that I was undone, and to my other Miseries, have -that of being aiding to my Rival’s Happiness: Whatever -his Desires were, he carefully conceal’d ’em, till -my cursed Letter prompted a Discovery; tenacious as -I was, and too, too confident of this little Beauty! -Here she stop’d, and wiping away some Tears which -in spight of her ran down her Cheeks, gave <span class="smcap">Charlo</span> -leave to ask if she had any more Commands for him. -Yes (answer’d she) I will write once more to this undiscerning -Man, and let him know, ’tis not <span class="smcap">Amena</span> -that is worthy of him; that I may do without prejudicing -my Fame, and ’twill be at least some Easement -to my Mind, to undeceive the Opinion he may have -conceiv’d of her Wit, for I am almost confident she -passes for the Authoress of those Lines which have -been so fatal to me; in speaking this, without any further<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span> -Thought, she once more took her Pen, and wrote -these Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">If</span> Ambition be a Fault, ’tis only in those who have -not a sufficient stock of Merit to support it; too much -Humility is a greater in you, whose Person and Qualities -are too admirable, not to render any Attempt you -shall make justifiable, as well as successful. Heaven -when it distinguish’d you in so particular a Manner from -the rest of Mankind, design’d you not for vulgar Conquests, -and you cannot without a manifest Contradiction -to its Will, and an irreparable Injury to your self, make -a present of that Heart to <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, when one, of at -least an equal Beauty, and far superior in every other -Consideration, would Sacrifice all to purchase the glorious -Trophy; continue then no longer in a wilful Ignorance, -aim at a more exalted flight, and you will find -it no difficulty to discover who she is that languishes, and -almost dies for an Opportunity of confessing (without too -great a breach of Modesty) that her Soul, and all the -Faculties of it, are, and must be</i>,</p> - -<p class="right">Eternally Yours.</p> - -</div> - -<p>This she gave to <span class="smcap">Charlo</span>, to deliver with the -same Caution as the former; but he was scarce got -out of the House before a new Fear assaulted her, and -she repented her uncircumspection. What have I -done, cry’d she! Who knows but <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> may -shew these Letters to <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, she is perfectly acquainted -with my Hand, and I shall be the most expos’d -and wretched Woman in the World. Thus -Industrious was she in forming Notions to Torment<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span> -herself; nor indeed was there any thing of Improbability -in this Conjecture. There are too many ungenerous -enough to boast such an Adventure; but -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> tho’ he would have given good Part -of his Estate to satisfy his Curiosity, yet chose -rather to remain in a perpetual Ignorance, than make -use of any Means that might be disadvantagious to the -Lady’s Reputation. He now perceiv’d his Mistake, -and that it was not <span class="smcap">Amena</span> who had taken that Method -to engage him, and possibly was not disgusted -to find she had a Rival of such Merit, as the Letter -intimated. However, he had said too many fine -Things to her to be lost, and thought it as inconsistent -with his Honour as his Inclination to desist a Pursuit -in which he had all the Reason in the World to assure -himself of Victory; for the young <span class="smcap">Amena</span> -(little vers’d in the Art of Dissimulation, so necessary -to her Sex) cou’d not conceal the Pleasure she took in -his Addresses, and without even a seeming reluctancy, -had given him a Promise of meeting him the -next Day in the <i>Tuilleries</i>; nor could all his unknown -Mistress had writ, perswade him to miss this Assignation, -nor let that be succeeded with another, and that -by a third, and so on, ’till by making a shew of Tenderness; -he began to fancy himself really touch’d with -a Passion he only design’d to represent. ’Tis certain -this way of Fooling rais’d Desires in him little different -from what is commonly call’d Love; and made -him redouble his Attacks in such a Manner, as <span class="smcap">Amena</span> -stood in need of all her Vertue to resist; but as -much as she thought her self oblig’d to resent such -Attempts, yet he knew so well how to excuse himself, -and lay the Blame on the Violence of his Passion, -that he was still too Charming, and too Dear to her -not to be forgiven. Thus was <span class="smcap">Amena</span> (by her too -generous and open Temper) brought to the very brink -of Ruin, and <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was possibly contriving -Means to compleat it, when her Page brought him -this Letter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break1.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Some</span> Malicious Persons have endeavour’d to make -the little Conversation I have had with you, appear -as Criminal; therefore to put a stop to all -such Aspersions, I must for the future deny my self the -Honour of your Visits, unless Commanded to receive ’em -by my Father, who only has the Power of disposing -of</i></p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Amena</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Consternation he was in at the reading these -Lines, so very different from her former Behaviour, -is more easily imagin’d than express’d, ’till casting his -Eyes on the Ground, he saw a small Note, which in -the opening of this, had fallen out of it, which he -hastily took up, and found it contain’d these Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><i>I guess the Surprize my lovely Friend is in, but have -not time now to unriddle the Mystery: I beg you will -be at your Lodgings towards the Evening, and I will -invent a Way to send to you.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">’Twas</span> now that <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> began to find there -were <i>Embarrassments</i> in an Intrigue of this Nature, -which he had not foreseen, and stay’d at Home all -Day, impatiently expecting the clearing of an Affair, -which at present seem’d so ambiguous. When it -grew a little Duskish, his Gentleman brought in a -Young Woman, whom he immediately knew to be: -<span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, an Attendant on <span class="smcap">Amena</span>; and when he -had made her sit down, told her he hop’d she was -come to make an <i>Eclaircissment</i>, which would be very -obliging to him, and therefore desir’d she wou’d -not defer it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">My</span> Lord, said she, ’tis with an unspeakable Trouble -I discharge that Trust my Lady has repos’d in me, -in giving you a Relation of her Misfortunes; but not -to keep you longer in suspence, which I perceive is -uneasy to you; I shall acquaint you, that soon after -you were gone, my Lady came up into her Chamber, -where, as I was preparing to undress her, we -heard Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span> in an angry Tone -ask where his Daughter was, and being told she was -above, we immediately saw him enter, with a Countenance -so inflam’d, as put us both in a mortal Apprehension. -An ill use (said he to her) have you made of -my Indulgence, and the Liberty I have allow’d you! -Could neither the Considerations of the Honour of -your Family, your own Reputation, nor my eternal -Repose, deter you from such imprudent Actions, as -you cannot be ignorant must be the inevitable Ruin -of ’em all. My poor Lady was too much surpriz’d -at these cruel Words, to be able to make any Answer -to ’em, and stood trembling, and almost fainting, -while he went on with his Discourse. Was it consistent -with the Niceties of your Sex, said he, or -with the Duty you owe me, to receive the Addresses -of a Person whose Pretensions I was a Stranger -to? If the Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> has any that are -Honourable, wherefore are they conceal’d? The Count -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>! (cry’d my Lady more frighted than -before) never made any Declarations to me worthy -of your Knowledge, nor did I ever entertain -him otherwise, than might become your Daughter. -’Tis false (interrupted he furiously) I am but -too well inform’d of the contrary; nor has the -most private of your shameful Meetings escap’d my -Ears! Judge, Sir, in what a Confusion my Lady was -in at this Discourse; ’twas in vain, she muster’d all her -Courage to perswade him from giving Credit to an -Intelligence so injurious to her; he grew the more -enrag’d, and after a thousand Reproaches, flung out -of the Room with all the Marks of a most violent -Indignation, But tho’ your Lordship is too well acquainted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> -with the mildness of <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> Disposition, -not to believe she could bear the Displeasure of a Father -(who had always most tenderly lov’d her) with -indifference; yet ’tis impossible for you to imagine in -what an excess of Sorrow she was plung’d, she found -every Passage of her ill Conduct (as she was pleas’d -to call it) was betray’d, and did not doubt but whoever -had done her that ill Office to her Father, wou’d -take care the Discovery should not be confin’d to him -alone. Grief, Fear, Remorse, and Shame by turns -assaulted her, and made her incapable of Consolation; -even the soft Pleas of Love were silenc’d by their -Tumultuous Clamours, and for a Time she consider’d -your Lordship in no other view than that of her -Undoer. How! cry’d <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> (interrupting her) -cou’d my <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, who I thought all sweetness, -judge so harshly of me. Oh! my Lord, resum’d -<span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, you must forgive those first Emotions, -which as violent as they were, wanted but your Presence -to dissipate in a Moment; and if your Idea had -not presently that Power, it lost no Honour by having -Foes to struggle with, since at last it put ’em all to -flight, and gain’d so entire a Victory, that before -Morning, of all her Troubles, scarce any but the Fears -of losing you remain’d. And I must take the Liberty -to assure your Lordship, my Endeavours were not -wanting to establish a Resolution in her to despise every -thing for Love and you. But to be as brief as I can -in my Relation; the Night was no sooner gone, than -Monsieur her Father came into the Chamber, with a -Countenance, tho’ more compos’d, than that with -which he left us, yet with such an Air of Austerity, -as made my timerous Lady lose most of the Spirit -she had assum’d for this Encounter. I come not now -<span class="smcap">Amena</span>, said he, to upbraid or punish your Disobedience, -if you are not wholly abandon’d by your Reason, -your own Reflections will be sufficiently your Tormentors. -But to put you in a way, (if not to clear your -Fame, yet to take away all Occasion of future Calumny,) -you must write to Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span></p> - -<p>I will have no denials continu’d he, (seeing her about -to speak) and leading her to her Escritore, constrain’d -her to write what he dictated, and you receiv’d; just as -she was going to Seal it, a Servant brought word -that a Gentleman desir’d to speak with Monsieur -<span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span>, he was oblig’d to step into another -Room, and that absence gave her an Opportunity of -writing a Note, which she dextrously slip’d into the -Letter, unperceiv’d by her Father at his return, who -little suspecting what she had done, sent it away immediately. -Now, said he, we shall be able to judge of the -sincerity of the Count’s Affections, but till then I -shall take care to prove my self a Person not disinterested -in the Honour of my Family. As he spoke these -Words, he took her by the Hand, and conducting her, -thro’ his own, into a little Chamber (which he had -order’d to be made ready for that purpose) shut her into -it; I follow’d to the Door, and seconded my Lady -in her Desires, that I might be permitted to attend -her there; but all in vain, he told me, he doubted not -but that I had been her Confident in this Affair, and -ordered me to quit his House in a few Days. As -soon as he was gone out, I went into the Garden, -and saunter’d up and down a good while, hoping to -get an Opportunity of speaking to my Lady through the -Window, for I knew there was one that look’d into -it; but not seeing her, I bethought me of getting a -little Stick, with which I knock’d gently against the -Glass, and engag’d her to open it. As soon as she -perceiv’d me, a Beam of Joy brighten’d in her Eyes, -and glisten’d tho’ her Tears. Dear <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, said she, -how kindly do I take this proof of thy Affection, ’tis -only in thy Power to alleviate my Misfortunes, and -thou I know art come to offer thy Assistance. Then after -I had assur’d her of my willingness to serve her in any -command, she desir’d me to wait on you with an -Account of all that had happen’d, and to give you -her Vows of an eternal Love. My Eyes, said she -weeping, perhaps may ne’er behold him more, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> -Imagination shall supply that want, and from my -Heart he never shall be Absent. Oh! do not talk thus, -cry’d the Count, extreamly touch’d at this Discourse. -I must, I will see her, nothing shall hold her from -me. You may, answer’d <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, but then it -must be with the Approbation of Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span>, -he will be proud to receive you in Quality -of a Suitor to his Daughter, and ’tis only to oblige -you to a publick Declaration that he takes these Measures. -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was not perfectly pleas’d with -these Words: he was too quick sighted not to perceive -immediately what Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span> -drove at, but as well as he lik’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, found no -inclination in himself to Marry her; and therefore -was not desirous of an Explanation of what he resolv’d -not to seem to understand. He walk’d two or -three turns about the Room, endeavouring to conceal -his Disgust, and when he had so well overcome -the shock, as to banish all visible Tokens of it, I -would willingly said he coldly, come in to any proper -Method for the obtaining the Person of <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, as -well as her Heart; but there are certain Reasons -for which I cannot make a Discovery of my Designs -to her Father, ’till I have first spoken with her. My -Lord, reply’d the subtle <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> (easily guessing at -his Meaning) I wish to Heaven there were a possibility -of your Meeting; there is nothing I would not -risque to forward it, and if your Lordship can think -of any way in which I may be serviceable to you, in -this short Time I am allow’d to stay in the Family, I -beg you would command me. She spoke this with an Air -which made the Count believe she really had it in her Power -to serve him in this Occasion, and presently hit on -the surest Means to bind her to his Interest. You are -very obliging, said he, and I doubt not but your Ingenuity -is equal to your good Nature, therefore will -leave the Contrivance of my happiness entirely to you, -and that you may not think your Care bestow’d on -an ungrateful Person, be pleas’d (continu’d he, giving -her a Purse of <i>Lewis-Dor</i>’s) to accept this small Earnest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> -of my future Friendship. <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, like most -of her Function, was too mercinary to resist such a -Temptation, tho’ it had been given her to betray the -Honour of her whole Sex; and after a little pause, reply’d, -Your Lordship is too generous to be refus’d, -tho’ in a Matter of the greatest Difficulty, as indeed -this is; for in the strict Confinement my Lady is, I -know no way but one, and that extreamly hazardous -to her; however, I do not fear but my Perswasions, -joyn’d with her own Desires, will influence her -to attempt it. Your Lordship knows we have a -little Door at the farther End of the Garden, that opens -into the <i>Tuillerys</i>. I do, cry’d <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> interrupting -her. I have several times parted from my -Charmer there, when my Entreaties have prevail’d -with her to stay longer with me than she wou’d have -the Family to take notice of. I hope to order the -Matter so, resum’d <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, that it shall be the -Scene this Night of a most happy Meeting. My -Lady unknown to her Father, has the Key of it, -she can throw it to me from her Window, and I can -open it to you, who must be walking near it, about -Twelve or One a Clock, for by that time every body -will be in Bed. But what will that avail, cry’d -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> hastily; since she lies in her Father’s -Chamber, where ’tis impossible to pass Without alarming -him. You Lovers are so impatient rejoyn’d -<span class="smcap">Anaret</span> smiling, I never design’d you should have -Entrance there, tho’ the Window is so low, that a -Person of your Lordship’s Stature and Agility might -mount it with a Galliard step, but I suppose it will -turn to as good an Account, if your Mistress by my -Assistance stets out of it. But can she, interrupted he; -will she, dost thou think? Fear not, my Lord, reply’d she, -be but punctual to the Hour, <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, shall be yours, -if Love, Wit and Opportunity have power to make -her so. <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was transported with this Promise, -and the Thoughts of what he expected to possess -by her Means, rais’d his Imagination to so high -a pitch, as he cou’d not forbear kissing and embracing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> -her with such Raptures, as might not have been very -pleasing to <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, had she been witness of ’em. -But <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> who had other things in her Head than -Gallantry, disengag’d her self from him as soon she -cou’d, taking more Satisfaction in forwarding an Affair -in which she propos’d so much Advantage, than -in the Caresses of the most accomplish’d Gentleman -in the World.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> she came Home, she found every thing as -she cou’d wish, <span class="smcap">Monsieur</span> Abroad, and his Daughter -at the Window, impatiently watching her return, -she told her as much of the Discourse she had with -the <span class="smcap">Count</span> as she thought proper, extolling his Love -and Constancy, and carefully concealing all she thought -might give an umbrage to her Vertue. But in spight -of all the Artifice she made use of, she found it no -easie Matter to perswade her to get out of the Window; -the fears she had of being discover’d, and more -expos’d to her Father’s Indignation, and the Censure -of the World, damp’d her Inclinations, and made her -deaf to the eager Solicitations of this unfaithful Woman. -As they were Disputing, some of the Servants -happ’ning to come into the Garden, oblig’d ’em to -break off; and <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> retir’d, not totally dispairing -of compassing her Designs, when the appointed -Hour should arrive, and <span class="smcap">Amena</span> should know the -darling Object of her Wishes was so near. Nor -did her Hopes deceive her, the Resolutions of a Lover, -when made against the Interest of the Person belov’d, -are but of a short duration; and this unhappy Fair was -no sooner left alone, and had leisure to Contemplate on -the Graces of the Charming <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, but Love plaid -his part with such Success, as made her repent she had -chid <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> for her Proposal, and wish’d for nothing -more than an Opportunity to tell her so. She pass’d several -Hours in Disquietudes she had never known before, -till at last she heard her Father come into the next -Room to go to Bed, and soon after some Body knock’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> -softly at the Window, she immediately open’d it, and -perceiv’d by the Light of the Moon which then shone -very bright, that it was <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, she had not Patience -to listen to the long Speech the other had prepar’d -to perswade her, but putting her Head as far as -she could, to prevent being heard by her Father. Well -<span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, said she, where is this Adventrous Lover, -what is it he requires of me? Oh! Madam, reply’d -she, overjoy’d at the compliable Humour she found -her in, he is now at the Garden Door, there’s nothing -wanting but your Key to give him Entrance; what -farther he requests, himself shall tell you. Oh Heavens! -cry’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, searching her Pockets, and finding she -had it not; I am undone, I have left it in my Cabinet -in the Chamber where I us’d to lie. These Words -made <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> at her Wits end, she knew there was -no possibility of fetching it, there being so many -Rooms to go thro’, she ran to the Door, and endeavour’d -to push back the Lock, but had not Strength; she then -knew not what to do, she was sure <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was -on the other side, and fear’d he would resent this usage -to the disappointment of all her mercenary Hopes, and -durst not call to acquaint him with his Misfortune for -fear of being heard. As for <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, she was now -more sensible than ever of the violence of her Inclinations, -by the extream vexation this Disappointment -gave her: Never did People pass a Night in greater -uneasiness, than these three; the <i>Count</i> who was naturally -impatient, could not bear a balk of this nature -without the utmost chagrin. <span class="smcap">Amena</span> languish’d, and -<span class="smcap">Anaret</span> fretted to Death, tho’ she resolv’d to leave -no Stone unturn’d to set all right again. Early in the -Morning she went to his Lodgings, and found him -in a very ill Humour, but she easily pacify’d him, -by representing with a great deal of real Grief, the -Accident that retarded his Happiness, and assuring him -there was nothing cou’d hinder the fulfilling it the -next Night. When she had gain’d this Point, she came -Home and got the Key into her possession, but could -not find an opportunity all Day of speaking to her Lady,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> -Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span> did not stir out of -Doors, and spent most of it with his Daughter; in -his Discourse to her, he set the Passion the <span class="smcap">Count</span> -had for her in so true a light, that it made a very great -alteration in her Sentiments; and she began to reflect -on the Condescensions she had given a Man, who had -never so much as mention’d Marriage to her, with so -much shame, as almost overwhelm’d her Love, and -she was now determin’d never to see him, till he should -declare himself to her Father in such a manner as would -be for her Honour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the mean time <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> waited with a great -deal of Impatience for the Family going to Bed; and -as soon as all was hush, ran to give the <span class="smcap">Count</span> Admittance; -and leaving him in an <span class="smcap">Alley</span> on the farther -side of the Garden, made the accustom’d Sign at -the Window. <span class="smcap">Amena</span> presently open’d it, but instead -of staying to hear what she would say, threw a Letter -out, Carry that, said she, to <span class="smcap">Count D’elmont</span>, -let him know the Contents of it are wholly the result -of my own Reason. And as for your part, I charge -you trouble me no farther on this Subject; then shutting -the Casement hastily, left <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> in a strange -Consternation at this suddain Change of her Humour; -however she made no delay, but running to the Place -where the <span class="smcap">Count</span> waited her return, deliver’d him -the Letter, but advis’d him (who was ready enough -of himself) not to obey any Commands might be -given him to the hindrance of his Designs. The Moon -was then at the full, and gave so clear a Light, that he -easily found it contain’d these Words.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break2.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Too</span> many Proofs have I given you of my weakness -not to make you think me incapable of forming -or keeping any Resolution to the Prejudice of that Passion -you have inspir’d me with: But know, thou undoer -of my Quiet, tho’ I have Lov’d and still do Love you -with a Tenderness, which I fear will be Unvanquishable; -yet I will rather suffer my Life, than my Virtue to -become its Prey. Press me then no more I conjure you, -to such dangerous Interviews, in which I dare neither -Trust my Self, nor You, if you believe me worthy your -real Regard, the way thro’ Honour is open to receive -You; Religion, Reason, Modesty, and Obedience forbid -the rest.</i></p> - -<p class="right">Farewel.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> knew the Power he had over her too -well, to be much discourag’d at what he read, and -after a little consultation with <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, they concluded -he should go to speak to her, as being the best -Sollicitor in his own Cause. As he came down the -Walk, <span class="smcap">Amena</span> saw him thro’ the Glass, and the sight -of that beloved Object, bringing a thousand past Endearments -to her Memory, made her incapable of retiring -from the Window, and she remain’d in a languishing -and immoveable Posture, leaning her Head against -the Shutter, ’till he drew near enough to discern she -saw him. He took this for no ill Omen, and instead -of falling on his Knees at an humble Distance, as some -Romantick Lovers would have done, redoubled his -Pace, and Love and Fortune which on this Occasion -were resolv’d to befriend him, presented to his View a -large Rolling-Stone which the Gardiner had accidentally<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> -left there; the Iron-work that held it was very -high, and strong enough to bear a much greater weight -than his, so he made no more to do, but getting on -the top of it, was almost to the Waste above the bottom -of the Casement. This was a strange Trial, for -had she been less in Love, good Manners would have -oblig’d her to open it; however she retain’d so much -of her former Resolution, as to conjure him to be gone, -and not expose her to such Hazards; that if her Father -should come to know she held any clandestine Correspondence -with him, after the Commands he had given -her, she were utterly undone, and that he never must -expect any Condescensions from her, without being -first allow’d by him. <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, tho’ he was a little -startled to find her so much more Mistress of her -Temper than he believ’d she could be, yet resolv’d to -make all possible use of this Opportunity, which probably -might be the last he shou’d ever have, look’d on -her as she spoke, with Eyes so piercing, so sparkling -with Desire, accompany’d with so bewitching softness, -as might have thaw’d the most frozen reservedness, and -on the melting Soul stamp’d Love’s Impression. ’Tis -certain they were too irresistable to be long withstood, -and putting an end to <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> grave Remonstrances, -gave him leave to reply to ’em in this manner. -Why my Life, my Angel, said he, my everlasting Treasure -of my Soul, shou’d these Objections now be rais’d? -How can you say you have given me your Heart? Nay, -own you think me worthy that inestimable Jewel, yet -dare not trust your Person with me a few Hours: What -have you to fear from your adoring Slave? I want but -to convince you how much I am so, by a thousand yet -uninvented Vows. They may be spar’d, cry’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, -hastily interrupting him, one Declaration to my Father, -is all the Proof that he or I demands of your Sincerity. -Oh! Thou Inhuman and Tyrannick Charmer, -answer’d he, (seizing her Hand, and eagerly kissing it) -I doubt not but your faithful <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> has told you, -that I could not without the highest Imprudence, presently -discover the Passion I have for you to the World.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> -I have, my Lord, said that cunning Wench who stood -near him, and that ’twas only to acquaint her with the -Reasons why, for some Time, you would have it a Secret, -that you much desir’d to speak with her. Besides -(rejoyn’d the <span class="smcap">Count</span>) consider my Angel how much -more hazardous it is for you to hold Discourse with -me here, than at a farther distance from your Father; -your denying to go with me is the only way to make -your Fears prove true; his jealousie of you may possibly -make him more watchful than ordinary, and we -are not sure but that this Minute he may tear you from -my Arms; whereas if you suffer me to bear you hence, -if he should happen to come even to your Door, and -hear no noise, he will believe you sleeping, and return -to his Bed well satisfy’d. With these and the like Arguments -she was at last overcome, and with the assistance -of <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, he easily lifted her down. But this -rash Action, so contrary to the Resolution she thought -herself a few moments before so fix’d in, made such a -confusion in her Mind, as render’d her insensible for -some Time of all he said to her. They made what -haste they could into the <i>Tuilleries</i>, and <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -having plac’d her on one of the most pleasant Seats, -was resolv’d to loose no time; and having given her -some Reasons for his not addressing to her Father, -which tho’ weak in themselves, were easily believ’d -by a Heart so willing to be deceiv’d as hers, he began -to press for a greater confirmation of her Affection -than Words; and ’twas now this inconsiderate Lady -found herself in the greatest Strait she had ever yet -been in; all Nature seem’d to favour his Design, the -pleasantness of the Place, the silence of the Night, -the sweetness of the Air, perfum’d with a thousand -various Odours, wafted by gentle Breezes from adjacent -Gardens, compleated the most delightful Scene -that ever was, to offer up a Sacrifice to Love; not a -breath but flew wing’d with desire, and sent soft thrilling -Wishes to the Soul; <span class="smcap">Cynthia</span> herself, cold as -she is reported, assisted in the Inspiration, and sometimes -shone with all her brightness, as it were to feast<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span> -their ravish’d Eyes with gazing on each others Beauty; -then veil’d her Beams in Clouds, to give the Lover -boldness, and hide the Virgins blushes. What now -could poor <span class="smcap">Amena</span> do, surrounded with so many -Powers, attack’d by such a charming Force without, -betray’d by tenderness within: Virtue and Pride, the -Guardians of her Honour, fled from her Breast, and -left her to her Foe, only a modest Bashfulness remain’d, -which for a time made some Defence, but -with such weakness as a Lover less impatient than -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, would have little regarded. The heat -of the Weather, and her Confinement having hindred -her from dressing that Day; she had only a thin silk -Night Gown on, which flying open as he caught -her in his Arms, he found her panting-Heart beat -measures of Consent, her heaving Breast swell to be -press’d by his, and every Pulse confess a wish to yeild; -her Spirits all dissolv’d, sunk in a Lethargy of Love; -her snowy Arms, unknowing, grasp’d his Neck, her -Lips met his half way, and trembled at the touch; in -fine, there was but a Moment betwixt her and Ruin; -when the tread of some Body coming hastily down -the Walk, oblig’d the half-bless’d Pair to put a stop to -farther Endearments. It was <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, who having -been left Centinel in the Garden, in order to open -the Door when her Lady should return, had seen -Lights in every Room in the House, and heard great -Confusion, so ran immediately to give ’em notice of -this Misfortune. These dreadful Tidings soon rous’d -<span class="smcap">Amena</span> from her Dream of Happiness, she accus’d -the influence of her Amorous Stars, upbraided <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>, -and blam’d the Count in Terms little differing -from distraction, and ’twas as much as both of ’em -could do to perswade her to be calm. However, ’twas -concluded that <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> should go back to the House, -and return to ’em again, as soon as she had learn’d -what accident had occasion’d this Disturbance. The -Lovers had now a second Opportunity, if either of ’em -had been inclin’d to make use of it, but their Sentiments -were entirely chang’d with this Alarm;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> -<span class="smcap">Amena</span>’s Thoughts were wholly taken up with -her approaching Shame, and vow’d she wou’d rather -die than ever come in to her Father’s Presence, if it -were true that she was miss’d; the Count, who -wanted not good Nature, seriously reflecting on the -Misfortunes he was likely to bring on a young Lady, -who tenderly lov’d him, gave him a great deal of real -Remorse, and the Consideration that he should be necessitated, -either to own an injurious Design, or come -into Measures for the clearing of it, which would in -no way agree with his Ambition, made him extreamly -pensive, and wish <span class="smcap">Amena</span> again in her Chamber, -more earnestly than ever he had done, to get her out -of it; they both remain’d in a profound Silence, impatiently -waiting the approach of <span class="smcap">Anaret</span>; but she -not coming as they expected, and the Night wearing -away apace, very much encreas’d the Trouble they -were in; at length the Count, after revolving a thousand -Inventions in his Mind, advis’d to walk toward -the Garden, and see whether the Door was yet open. -’Tis better for you, Madam, said he, whatsoever has -happen’d, to be found in your own Garden, than in -any Place with me. <span class="smcap">Amena</span> comply’d, and suffer’d -herself to be led thither, trembling, and ready to sink -with Fear and Grief at every Step; but when they -found all fast, and that there was no hopes of getting -Entrance, she fell quite senseless, and without any -signs of Life, at her Lover’s Feet; he was strangely at -a loss what to do with her, and made a thousand -Vows if he got clear of this Adventure, never to -embark in another of this Nature; he was little -skill’d in proper Means to recover her, and ’twas more -to her Youth and the goodness of her Constitution -that she ow’d the Return of her Senses, than his awkard -Endeavours; when she reviv’d, the piteous Lamentations -she made, and the perplexity he was in -how to dispose of her, was very near reducing him -to as bad a Condition as she had been in; he never -till now having had occasion for a Confident, render’d -him so unhappy as not to know any one Person<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> -at whose House he cou’d, with any Convenience, -trust her, and to carry her to that where he had Lodgings, -was the way to be made the talk of all <i>Paris</i>. -He ask’d her several times if she would not command -him to wait on her to some Place where she -might remain free from Censure, till she heard from -her Father, but cou’d get no Answer but upbraidings -from her. So making a Virtue of Necessity, he was -oblig’d to take her in his Arms, with a design to -bring her (tho’ much against his Inclinations) to his -own Apartment: As he was going thro’ a very fair -Street which led to that in which he liv’d, <span class="smcap">Amena</span> -cry’d out with a sort of Joy, loose me, my Lord, I -see a Light in yonder House, the Lady of it is my -dearest Friend, she has power with my Father, and -if I beg her Protection, I doubt not but she will afford -it me, and perhaps find some way to mitigate -my Misfortunes; the <i>Count</i> was overjoy’d to be eas’d -of his fair Burthen, and setting her down at the Gate, -was preparing to take his leave with an indifference, -which was but too visible to the afflicted Lady. I -see, my Lord, said she, the pleasure you take in getting -rid of me, exceeds the trouble for the Ruin -you have brought upon me; but go, I hope I shall resent -this Usage as I ought, and that I may be the better -enabled to do so, I desire you to return the Letter -I writ this fatal Night, the Resolution it contain’d -will serve to remind me of my shameful Breach of -it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span> (answer’d he coldly, but with great Complaisance) -you have said enough to make a Lover less -obedient, refuse; but because I am sensible of the Accidents -that happen to Letters, and to shew that I can -never be repugnant even to the most rigorous of your -Commands, I shall make no scruple in fulfilling this, -and trust to your Goodness for the re-settling me in -your Esteem, when next you make me so happy as -to see you. The formality of this Compliment touch’d -her to the Quick, and the thought of what she was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> -like to suffer on his account, fill’d her with so just an -Anger, that as soon as she got the Letter, she knock’d -hastily at the Gate, which being immediately open’d, -broke off any further Discourse, she went in, and he -departed to his Lodging, ruminating on every Circumstance -of this Affair, and consulting with himself -how he shou’d proceed. <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> (for it was her -House which <span class="smcap">Amena</span> by a whimsical effect of Chance -had made choice of for her Sanctuary) was no sooner -told her Rival was come to speak with her, but she -fell into all the Raptures that successful Malice could -inspire, she was already inform’d of part of this Night’s -Adventure; for the cunning <span class="smcap">Charlo</span> who by her -Orders had been a diligent Spy on Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> -Actions, and as constant an Attendant on him as his -shadow, had watch’d him to Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin’s</span> -Garden, seen him enter, and afterwards come with -<span class="smcap">Amena</span> into the <i>Tuilleries</i>; where perceiving ’em -Seated, ran Home, and brought his Lady an Account; -Rage, Jealousie and Envy working their usual Effects -in her; at this News, made her promise the Fellow -infinite Rewards if he would invent some Stratagem -to separate ’em, which he undertaking to do, occasion’d -her being up so late, impatiently waiting his return; -she went down to receive her with great Civility, -mix’d with a feign’d surprize to see her at such an -Hour, and in such a Dishabilee; which the other answering -ingeniously, and freely letting her into the -whole Secret, not only of her Amour, but the coldness -she observ’d in <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Behaviour at parting, -fill’d this cruel Woman with so exquisite a Joy, -as she was hardly capable of dissembling; therefore to -get liberty to indulge it, and to learn the rest of the -particulars of <span class="smcap">Charlo</span>, who she heard was come in, -she told <span class="smcap">Amena</span> she would have her go to Bed, and -endeavour to compose her self, and that she would send -for Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span> in the Morning, and -endeavour to reconcile him to her. I will also added -she, with a deceitful smile, see the Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -and talk to him in a manner as shall make him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> -truly sensible of his Happiness; nay, so far my Friendship -shall extend, that if there be any real Cause for -making your Amour a Secret, he shall see you at my -House, and pass for a Visitor of mine; I have no body -to whom I need be accountable for my Actions -and am above the Censures of the World. <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, -thank’d her in Terms full of gratitude, and went with -the Maid, whom <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had order’d to conduct -her to a Chamber prepar’d for her; as soon as she had -got rid of her, she call’d for <span class="smcap">Charlo</span>, impatient to -hear by what contrivance this lucky Chance had befallen -her. Madam, said, he, tho’ I form’d a thousand -Inventions, I found not any so plausible, as to alarm -Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin’s</span> Family, with an out-cry of -Fire. Therefore I rang the Bell at the fore-gate of -the House, and bellow’d in the most terrible accent I -could possible turn my Voice to, Fire, Fire, rise, or -you will all be burnt in your Beds. I had not repeated -this many times, before I found the Effect I wish’d; -the Noises I heard, and the Lights I saw in the Rooms, -assur’d me there were no Sleepers left; then I ran to -the <i>Tuilleries</i>, designing to observe the Lover’s proceedings, -but I found they were appriz’d of the Danger -they were in, of being discover’d, and were coming -to endeavour an entrance into the Garden. I know -the rest, interrupted <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, the Event has answer’d -even beyond my Wishes, and thy Reward for -this good Service shall be greater than thy Expectations. -As she said these Words she retir’d to her Chamber, -more satisfy’d than she had been for many Months. -Quite different did poor <span class="smcap">Amena</span> pass the Night, for -besides the grief of having disoblig’d her Father, banish’d -her self his House, and expos’d her Reputation -to the unavoidable Censures of the unpitying World; -for an ungrateful, or at best an indifferent Lover. She -receiv’d a vast addition of Afflictions, when taking out -the Letter which <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> had given her at parting, -possible to weep over it; and accuse her self for -so inconsiderately breaking the noble Resolution she had -form’d, when it was writ. She found it was <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span></span> -Hand, for the <i>Count</i> by mistake had given her the second -he receiv’d from that Lady, instead of that she desir’d -him to return. Never was Surprize, Confusion, and -Dispair at such a height, as in <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> Soul at this -Discovery; she was now assur’d by what she read, that -she had fled for Protection to the very Person she ought -most to have avoided; that she had made a Confident -of her greatest Enemy, a Rival dangerous to her Hopes -in every Circumstance. She consider’d the High Birth -and vast Possessions that <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was Mistress of -in opposition to her Father’s scanted Power of making -her a Fortune. Her Wit and Subtilty against her Innocence -and Simplicity: her Pride, and the respect -her grandeur commanded from the World, against her -own deplor’d and wretch’d State, and look’d upon -her self as wholly lost. The violence of her Sorrow -is more easily imagin’d than express’d; but of all her -melancholy Reflections, none rack’d her equal to the -belief she had that <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was not unsensible by -this time whom the Letter came from, and had only -made a Court to her to amuse himself a while, and -then suffer her to fall a Sacrifice to his Ambition, and -feed the Vanity of her Rival; a just Indignation now -open’d the Eyes of her Understanding, and considering -all the Passages of the <i>Count</i>’s Behaviour, she saw -a thousand Things which told her, his Designs on her -were far unworthy of the Name of Love. None -that were ever touch’d with the least of those Passions -which agitated the Soul of <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, can believe they -would permit Sleep to enter her Eyes: But if Grief -and Distraction kept her from repose; <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had -too much Business on her Hands to enjoy much more; -She had promis’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span> to send for her Father, and -the <i>Count</i>, and found there were not too many Moments -before Morning, to contrive so many different -forms of Behaviour, as should deceive ’em all three, -compleat the Ruin of her Rival, and engage the Addresses -of her Lover; as soon as she thought it a proper -Hour, she dispatch’d a Messenger to Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -and another to Monsieur <span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span>,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> -who full of Sorrow as he was, immediately obey’d -her Summons. She receiv’d him in her Dressing-room, -and with a great deal of feign’d Trouble in her Countenance, -accosted him in this manner. How hard is -it, said she, to dissemble Grief, and in spite of all the -Care, which I doubt not you have taken to conceal -it, in consideration of your own, and Daughter’s Honour, -I too plainly perceive it in your Face to imagine -that my own is hid: How, Madam, cry’d the impatient -Father, (then giving a loose to his Tears) are you -acquainted then with my Misfortune? Alas, answer’d -she, I fear by the Consequences you have been the last -to whom it has been reveal’d. I hop’d that my Advice, -and the daily Proofs the <i>Count</i> gave your Daughter -of the little regard he had for her, might have -fir’d her to a generous Disdain, and have a thousand -Pardons to ask of you for Breach of Friendship, in -concealing an Affair so requisite you should have known: -Oh! Madam resum’d he, interrupting her, I conjure -you make no Apologies for what is past, I know too -well the greatness of your goodness, and the favour -you have always been pleas’d to Honour her with; not -to be assur’d she was happy in your Esteem, and only -beg I may no longer be kept in Ignorance of the fatal -Secret. You shall be inform’d of all, said she, but then -you must promise me to Act by my Advice; which he -having promis’d, she told him after what manner -<span class="smcap">Amena</span> came to her House, the coldness the <i>Count</i> -express’d to her, and the violence of her Passion for -him. Now, said she, if you should suffer your rage -to break out in any publick Manner against the <i>Count</i>, -it will only serve to make your Daughter’s Dishonour -the Table-Talk of all <i>Paris</i>. He is too great at Court, -and has too many Friends to be compell’d to any Terms -for your Satisfaction; besides, the least noise might -make him discover by what means he first became acquainted -with her, and her excessive, I will not say -troublesome fondness of him, since; which should he -do, the shame wou’d be wholly her’s, for few wou’d -condemn him for accepting the offer’d Caresses of a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> -Lady so young and beautiful as <span class="smcap">Amena</span>. But is it -possible, cry’d he (quite confounded at these Words) -that she should stoop so low to offer Love. Oh Heavens! -Is this the Effect of all my Prayers, my Care, -and my Indulgence. Doubt not, resum’d <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -of the Truth of what I say, I have it from herself, -and to convince you it is so, I shall inform you of -something I had forgot before. Then she told him -of the Note she had slip’d into the Letter he had forc’d -her to write, and of sending <span class="smcap">Anaret</span> to his Lodgings, -which she heighten’d with all the aggravating -Circumstances her Wit and Malice cou’d suggest; till -the old Man believing all she said as an Oracle, was almost -senseless between Grief and Anger; but the latter -growing rather the most predominant, he vow’d -to punish her in such a manner as should deter all Children -from Disobedience. Now, said <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, it -is, that I expect the performance of your Promise; -these threats avail but little to the retrieving your -Daughter’s Reputation, or your quiet; be therefore -perswaded to make no Words of it, compose your -Countenance as much as possible to serenity, and think -if you have no Friend in any Monastry where you -could send her till this Discourse, and her own foolish -Folly be blown over. If you have not, I can recommend -you to one at <i>St.</i> <span class="smcap">Dennis</span> where the Abbess is -my near Relation, and on my Letter will use her with -all imaginable Tenderness. Monsieur was extreamly -pleas’d at this Proposal, and gave her those thanks the -seeming kindness of her offer deserv’d. I would not, -resum’d she, have you take her Home, or see her before -she goes; or if you do, not till all things are ready -for her Departure, for I know she will be prodigal of -her <i>Promises</i> of Amendment, ’till she has prevail’d with -your Fatherly Indulgence to permit her stay at <i>Paris</i>, -and know as well she will not have the Power to <i>keep</i> -’em in the same Town with the <i>Count</i>. She shall, if -you please, remain conceal’d in my House, ’till you have -provided for her Journey, and it will be a great Means -to put a stop to any farther Reflections the malicious<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> -may make on her; if you give out she is already -gone to some Relations in the Country. As she was -speaking, <span class="smcap">Charlo</span> came to acquaint her, one was -come to visit her. She made no doubt but ’twas -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, therefore hasten’d away Monsieur -<span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span>, after having fix’d him in a Resolution -to do every thing as she advis’d. It was indeed Count -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> that was come, which as soon as she -was assur’d of, she threw off her dejected and mournful -Air, and assum’d one all Gaiety and good Humour, -dimpl’d her Mouth with Smiles, and call’d the -laughing Cupids to her Eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">My</span> Lord, said she, you do well by this early visit -to retrieve your Sexes drooping fame of Constancy, -and prove the nicety of <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> discernment, in -conferring favours on a Person, who to his excellent -Qualifications, has that of assiduity to deserve them; -as he was about to reply, the rush of somebody coming -hastily down the Stairs which faced the Room -they were in, oblig’d ’em to turn that way. It was -the unfortunate <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, who not being able to endure -the Thoughts of staying in her Rivals House, -distracted with her Griefs, and not regarding what -should become of her, as soon as she heard the Doors -were open, was preparing to fly from that detested -Place. <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was vex’d to the Heart at the sight of -her, hoping to have had some Discourse with the -<i>Count</i> before they met; but she dissembled it, and -catching hold of her as she was endeavouring to pass, -ask’d where she was going, and what occasion’d the -Disorder she observ’d in her. I go, (answer’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span>) -from a false Lover, and a falser Friend, but -why shou’d I upbraid you (continu’d she looking -wildly sometimes on the <i>Count</i>, and sometimes on -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>) Treacherous Pair, you know too well -each others Baseness, and my Wrongs; no longer then, -detain a Wretch whose Presence, had you the least -Sense of Honour, Gratitude, or even common Humanity, -wou’d fill your Consciences with Remorse<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> -and Shame; and who has now no other wish, than -that of shunning you for ever. As she spoke this, -she struggled to get loose from <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> Arms, -who, in spite of the Amazement she was in, still -held her. <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was no less confounded, and -intirely ignorant of the Meaning of what he heard, -was at a loss how to reply, ’till she resum’d her reproaches -in this manner: Why, ye Monsters of barbarity, -said she, do you delight in beholding the Ruins -you have made? Is not the knowledge of my Miseries, -my everlasting Miseries, sufficient to content you? -And must I be debarr’d that only Remedy for Woes -like mine? Death! Oh cruel Return for all my Love, -my Friendship! and the confidence I repos’d in you. -Oh! to what am I reduc’d by my too soft and easie -Nature, hard fate of tenderness, which healing others, -only wounds it’s self.-----Just Heavens!------here she -stopp’d, the violence of her Resentment, endeavouring -to vent it self in sighs, rose in her Breast with such an -impetuosity as choak’d the Passage of her Words, and -she fell in a Swoon. Tho’ the <i>Count</i>, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -were both in the greatest Consternation imaginable, -yet neither of ’em were negligent in trying to Recover -her; as they were busi’d about her, that fatal -Letter which had been the Cause of this Disturbance, -fell out of her Bosom, and both being eager to take it -up (believing it might make some discovery) had their -Hands on it at the same time; it was but slightly -folded, and immediately shew’d ’em from what source -<span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> despair proceeded: Her upbraidings of <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -and the Blushes and Confusion which he observed -in that Ladies Face, as soon as ever she saw it -open’d, put an end to the Mistery, and one less quick -of Apprehension than <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, wou’d have -made no difficulty in finding his unknown Admirer -in the Person of <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>: She, to conceal the Disorder -she was in at this Adventure as much as possible, -call’d her Women, and order’d ’em to Convey -<span class="smcap">Amena</span> into another Chamber where there was -more Air; as she was preparing to follow, turning a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> -little towards the <i>Count</i>. but still extreamly confus’d, -you’ll Pardon, me, my Lord, said she, if my concern -for my Friend obliges me to leave you. Ah -Madam, reply’d he, forbear to make any Apologies -to me, rather Summon all your goodness to forgive -a Wretch so blind to happiness as I have been: She -either cou’d not, or wou’d not make any answer to -these Words, but seeming as tho’ she heard ’em not, -went hastily into the Room where <span class="smcap">Amena</span> was, -leaving the <i>Count</i> full of various and confus’d Reflections; -the sweetness of his Disposition made him regret -his being the Author of <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> Misfortunes, -but how miserable is that Woman’s Condition, who -by her Mismanagement is reduc’d to so poor a Comfort -as the pity of her Lover; that Sex is generally -too Gay to continue long uneasy, and there was little -likelihood he cou’d be capable of lamenting Ills, -which his small Acquaintance with the Passion from -which they sprung, made him not comprehend. The -pleasure the Discovery gave him of a Secret he had so -long desir’d to find out, kept him from being too -much concern’d at the Adventure that occasion’d it; -but he could not forbear accusing himself of intollerable -Stupidity, when he consider’d the Passages of <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> -Behaviour, her swooning at the Ball, her -constant Glances, her frequent Blushes when he talk’d -to her, and all his Cogitations whether on <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -or <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, were mingled with a wonder that -Love should have such Power. The diversity of his -Thoughts wou’d have entertain’d him much longer, -if they had not been interrupted by his Page, who -came in a great hurry, to acquaint him, that his Brother, -the young Chevalier <span class="smcap">Brillian</span> was just come -to Town, and waited with Impatience for his coming -Home: As much a Stranger as <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was -to the Affairs of Love, he was none to those of -Friendship, and making no doubt but that the former -ought to yield to the latter in every respect; -contented himself with telling one of <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> -Servants, as he went out, that he wou’d wait on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> -her in the Evening, and made what hast he cou’d to -give his beloved Brother the welcome he expected -after so long an absence; and indeed the manner of -their Meeting, express’d a most intire and sincere Affection -on both sides. The <i>Chevalier</i> was but a Year -younger than the <i>Count</i>, they had been bred together -from their Infancy, and there was such a sympathy -in their Souls, and so great a Resemblance in their -Persons, as very much contributed to endear ’em to -each other with a Tenderness far beyond that which -is ordinarily found among Relations. After the first -Testimonies of it were over, <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> began to -Question him how he had pass’d his Time since their -Separation, and to give him some little Reproaches -for not writing so often as he might have Expected. -Alas! my dearest Brother, reply’d the <i>Chevalier</i>, such -various Adventures have hap’ned to me since we parted, -as when I relate ’em, will I hope excuse my -seeming Negligence; these Words were accompany’d -with Sighs, and a Melancholly Air immediately overspreading -his Face, and taking away great part of -the Vivacity, which lately sparkled in his Eyes, rais’d -an impatient Desire in the <i>Count</i> to know the Reason -of it, which when he had express’d, the other (after -having engag’d him, that whatever Causes he might -find to ridicule his Folly, he wou’d suspend all appearance -of it till the end of his Narration) began to satisfy in -this Manner.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> -<img src="images/footer1.jpg" width="300" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-story.jpg" width="700" height="125" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h3><span class="smaller">THE</span><br /> -<span class="larger">STORY</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">OF THE</span><br /> -Chevalier <span class="smcap">Brillian</span>.</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">At</span> St. <i>Omers</i>, where you left me, I happen’d -to make an Acquaintance with one Monsieur -<span class="smcap">Belpine</span>, a Gentleman who was -there on some Business; we being both pretty much -Strangers in the Place, occasion’d an Intimacy between -us, which the disparity of our Tempers, -wou’d have prevented our Commencing at <i>Paris</i>; -but you know I was never a lover of Solitude, and for -want of Company more agreeable, was willing to -encourage his. He was indeed so obliging as to stay -longer at St. <i>Omers</i> then his Affairs required, purposely -to engage me to make <i>Amiens</i> in my way to <i>Paris</i>. -He was very Vain, and fancying himself happy -in the esteem of the fair Sex, was desirous I should -be witness of the Favours they bestow’d on him. -Among the Number of those he used to talk of, was -Madamoiselle <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> de la <span class="smcap">Tour</span>, a <i>Parisian</i> -Lady, and Heiress of a great Estate, but had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> -some time at <i>Amiens</i> with Madam the Baroness <i>de</i> -<span class="smcap">Beronville</span> her God-Mother. The Wonders he -told me of this young Lady’s Wit, and Beauty, inclin’d -me to a desire of seeing her; and as soon as I -was in a Condition to Travel, we took our Way towards -<i>Amiens</i>, he us’d me with all the Friendship -he was capable of expressing; and soon after we arriv’d, -carry’d me to the <i>Baronesses</i>: But oh Heavens! -How great was my Astonishment when I found <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -as far beyond his faint Description, as -the Sun Beams the Imitation of Art; besides the regularity -of her Features, the delicacy of her Complexion, -and the just Simmetry of her whole Composition, -she has an undescribable Sweetness that plays -about her Eyes and Mouth, and softens all her Air: -But all her Charms, dazling as they are, would have -lost their captivating Force on me, if I had believ’d -her capable of that weakness for <span class="smcap">Belpine</span>, that -his Vanity would have me think. She is very Young -and Gay, and I easily perceiv’d she suffer’d his Addresses -more out of Diversion then any real Regard she -had for him; he held a constant Correspondence at -<i>Paris</i>, and was continually furnish’d with every thing -that was <i>Novel</i>, and by that means introduc’d himself -into many Companies, who else wou’d not have -endured him; but when at any time I was so happy -as to entertain the lovely <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> alone, and -we had Opportunity for serious Discourse, (which -was impossible in his Company) I found that she -was Mistress of a Wit, Poynant enough to be Satyrical, -yet it was accompanied with a Discretion as very -much heighten’d her Charms, and compleated the -Conquest that her Eyes begun. I will confess to you, -Brother, that I became so devoted to my Passion, that -I had no leisure for any other Sentiments. Fears, -Hopes, Anxities, jealous Pains, uneasie Pleasures, all -the Artillery of Love, were garrison’d in my Heart, -and a thousand various half form’d Resolutions fill’d -my Head. <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>’s insensibility among a -Crow’d of Admirers, and the disparity of our Fortunes,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> -wou’d have given me just Causes of Despair, -if the Generosity of her Temper had not dissipated -the one, and her Youth, and the hope her Hour was -not yet come, the other. I was often about letting -her know the Power she had over me, but something -of an awe which none but those who truly -Love can guess at, still prevented my being able to -utter it, and I believ’d should have languish’d ’till this -Moment in an unavailing silence, if an accident had -not hapen’d to embolden me: I went one Day to -visit my Adorable, and being told she was in the Garden, -went thither in hopes to see her, but being deceiv’d -in my Expectation, believ’d the Servant who -gave me that Information was mistaken, and fancying -she might be retir’d to her Closet, as she very -often did in an Afternoon, and the pleasantness of the -Place inducing me to stay there till she was willing to -admit me. I sat down at the Foot of a DIANA, -curiously carv’d in Marble, and full of melancholy -Reflections without knowing what I did, took a -black lead Pen out of my Pocket, and writ on the -Pedestal these two Lines.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Hopeless, and Silent, I must still adore,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Her Heart’s more hard than Stone whom I’d implore.</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>I had scarce finish’d ’em, when I perceiv’d <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -at a good distance from me, coming out -of a little Arbour; the respect I had for her, made me -fear she should know I was the Author of ’em, and -guess, what I found, I had not gain’d Courage enough -to tell her. I went out of the Alley, as I imagin’d, -unseen, and design’d to come up another, and meet -her, before she cou’d get into the House. But tho’ -I walk’d pretty fast, she had left the Place before I -cou’d attain it; and in her stead (casting my Eyes toward -the Statue with an Intention to rub out what -I had writ) I found this Addition to it.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>You wrong your Love, while you conceal your Pain,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Flints will dissolve with constant drops of Rain.</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span>, my dear Brother, if you are yet insensible of -the wonderful Effects of Love, you will not be able to -imagine what I felt at this View; I was satisfy’d it -could be writ by no Body but <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>, there -being no other Person in the Garden, and knew as -well she could not design that Encouragement for -any other Man, because on many Occasions she had -seen my Hand; and the Day before had written a -Song for her, which she desir’d to learn, with that -very Pen I now had made use of; and going hastily -away at the sight of her, had forgot to take with me. -I gaz’d upon the dear obliging Characters, and kiss’d -the Marble which contain’d ’em, a thousand times before -I cou’d find in my Heart to efface ’em; as I was -in this agreeable Amazement, I heard <span class="smcap">Belpine’s</span> -Voice calling to me as he came up the walk, which -oblig’d me to put an end to it, and the Object which -occasion’d it. He had been told as well as I, that <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -was in the Garden, and expressing some -wonder to see me alone, ask’d where she was, I answer’d -him with a great deal of real Truth, that I -knew not, and that I had been there some Time, -but had not been so happy as to Entertain her. He -seem’d not to give Credit to what I said, and began -to use me after a Fashion as would have much more -astonish’d me from any other Person. I would not -have you, said he, be concern’d at what I am about -to say, because you are one of those for whom I am -willing to preserve a Friendship; and to convince you -of my Sincerity, give you leave to address after what -manner you please to any of the Ladies with whom I -have brought you acquainted, excepting <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>. -But I take this Opportunity to let you know, -I have already made choice of her, with a design of -Marriage, and from this time forward, shall look on -any Visits you shall make to her, as injurious to my -Pretensions. Tho’ I was no Stranger to the Vanity -and Insolence of <span class="smcap">Belpine’s</span> Humour, yet not being -accustomed to such arbitrary Kind of Treatment, had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> -certainly resented it (if we had been in any other -Place) in a very different Manner than I did, but the -consideration that to make a Noise there, would be a -Reflection, rather than a Vindication on <span class="smcap">Ansellina’s</span> -Fame; I contented myself with telling him he might -be perfectly easie, that whatever Qualifications the Lady -might have that should encourage his Addresses, I -should never give her any Reason to boast a Conquest -over me. These Words might have born two Interpretations, -if the disdainful Air with which I spoke -’em, and which I could not dissemble, and going immediately -away had not made him take ’em, as they -were really design’d, to affront him; He was full of -Indignation and Jealousy (if it is possible for a Person -to be touch’d with that Passion, who is not capable of -the other, which generally occasions it) but however, -having taken it into his Head to imagine I was better -receiv’d by <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> than he desired; Envy, and -a sort of a Womanish Spleen transported him so far as -to go to <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>’s Apartment, and rail at me -most profusely (as I have since been told) and threaten -how much he’d be reveng’d, if he heard I ever should -have the assurance to Visit there again. <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -at first laugh’d at his Folly, but finding he persisted, -and began to assume more Liberty than she ever meant -to afford him; instead of list’ning to his Entreaties, to -forbid me the Privilege I had enjoy’d of her Conversation; -she pass’d that very Sentence on him, and when -next I waited of her, receiv’d me with more Respect -than ever; and when at last I took the boldness to acquaint -her with my Passion; I had the Satisfaction to -observe from the frankness of her Disposition, that I -was not indifferent to her; nor indeed did she, even in -Publick, affect any reservedness more than the decencies -of her Sex and Quality requir’d; for after my Pretensions -to her were commonly talk’d of, and those -who were intimate with her, wou’d rally her about -me; she pass’d it off with a Spirit of Gaity and good -Humour peculiar to her self, and bated nothing of her -usual freedom to me; she permitted me to Read to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> -her, to Walk and Dance with her, and I had all the -Opportunities of endeavouring an encrease of her -Esteem that I cou’d wish, which so incens’d <span class="smcap">Belpine</span>, -that he made no scruple of reviling both her and me in -all Companies wherever he came; saying, I was a little -worthless Fellow, who had nothing but my Sword -to depend upon; and that <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> having no -hopes of Marrying him, was glad to take up with the -first that ask’d her. These scandalous Reports on my -first hearing of ’em had assuredly been fatal to one of -us, if <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> had not commanded me by all -the Passion I profess’d, and by the Friendship she freely -acknowledged to have for me, not to take any Notice -of ’em. I set too high a Value on the favours she allow’d -me, to be capable of Disobedience; and she was -too nice a Judge of the Punctillio’s of our Sexes Honour, -not to take this Sacrifice of so just a Resentment, -as a very great proof how much I submitted to her will, -and suffer’d not a Day to pass without giving me some -new mark how nearly she was touch’d with it. I -was the most contented and happy Person in the World, -still hoping that in a little time, (she having no Relations -that had Power to contradict her Inclinations) I -should be able to obtain every thing from her that an -honourable Passion could require; ’till one Evening -coming Home pretty late from her, my Servant gave -me a Letter, which he told me was left for me, by -one of <span class="smcap">Belpine’s</span> Servants; I presently suspected the -Contents, and found I was not mistaken; it was really -a Challenge to meet him the next Morning, and must -confess, tho’ I long’d for an Opportunity to Chastise -his Insolence, was a little troubled how to excuse my -self to <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> but there was no possibility of -evading it, without rendering my self unworthy of -her, and hop’d that Circumstance wou’d be sufficient -to clear me to her. I will not trouble you, Brother, -with the particulars of our Duel, since there was -nothing material, but that at the third pass (I -know not whether I may call it the effect of my good -or evil Fortune) he receiv’d my Sword a good depth<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> -in his Body, and fell with all the Symptoms of a Dying-Man. -I made all possible hast to send a Surgeon to -him. In my way I met two Gentlemen, who it seems -he had made acquainted with his Design (probably -with an intention to be prevented). They ask’d me -what Success, and when I had inform’d ’em, advis’d -me to be gone from <i>Amiens</i> before the News should -reach the Ears of <span class="smcap">Belpine’s</span> Relations, who were -not inconsiderable in that Place. I made ’em those -Retributions their Civilities deserv’d; but how eminent -soever the Danger appear’d that threatned me, -cou’d not think of leaving <i>Amiens</i>, without having -first seen <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>. I went to the <i>Baronesses</i>, -and found my Charmer at her Toylet, and either it was -my Fancy, or else she really did look more amiable in -that Undress, than ever I had seen her, tho’ adorn’d with -the utmost Illustrations. She seem’d surpriz’d at seeing -me so early, and with her wonted good Humour, asking -me the reason of it, put me into a mortal Agony -how to answer her, for I must assure you, Brother, -that the fears of her Displeasure were a thousand times -more dreadful to me, than any other apprehensions; she -repeated the Question three or four times before I had -Courage to Reply, and I believe she was pretty near -guessing the Truth by my Silence, and the disorder in -my Countenance before I spoke; and when I did, she -receiv’d the account of the whole Adventure with a -vast deal of trouble, but no anger; she knew too well, -what I ow’d to my Reputation, and the Post his Majesty -had honour’d me with, to believe, I cou’d, or -ought to dispence with submitting to the Reflections -which must have fallen on me, had I acted otherwise -than I did. Her Concern and Tears, which she had -not Power to contain at the thoughts of my Departure, -joyn’d with her earnest Conjurations to me to -be gone, let me more than ever into the Secrets of her -Heart, and gave me a Pleasure as inconceivable as -the necessity of parting did the contrary. Nothing -cou’d be more moving than our taking leave, and when -she tore her self half willing, and half unwilling, from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> -my Arms, had sent me away inconsolable, if her Promises -of coming to <i>Paris</i>, as soon as she could, without -being taken notice of, and frequently writing to -me in the mean time, had not given me a Hope, tho’ -a distant one, of Happiness. Thus Brother, have I -given you, in as few Words as I cou’d, a Recital of -every thing that has happen’d to me of Consequence -since our Separation, in which I dare believe you will -find more to Pity than Condemn. The afflicted Chevalier -cou’d not conclude without letting fall some -Tears; which the <i>Count</i> perceiving, ran to him, and -tenderly embracing him, said all that cou’d be expected -from a most affectionate Friend to mitigate his Sorrows, -nor suffered him to remove from his Arms ’till -he had accomplish’d his Design; and then believing the -hearing of the Adventures of another, (especially one -he was so deeply interested in) would be the surest -Means to give a Truce to the more melancholy Reflections -on his own; related every thing that had befallen -him since his coming to <i>Paris</i>. The Letters he receiv’d -from a Lady <i>Incognito</i>, his little Gallantries with -<span class="smcap">Amena</span>, and the accident that presented to his -View, the unknown Lady in the Person of one of the -greatest Fortunes in all <i>France</i>. Nothing cou’d be a -greater Cordial to the Chevalier, than to find his Brother -was belov’d by the Sister of <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>; he did -not doubt but that by this there might be a possibility -of seeing her sooner than else he cou’d have hop’d, and -the two Brothers began to enter into a serious consultation -of this Affair, which ended with a Resolution -to fix their Fortunes there. The <i>Count</i> had never -yet seen a Beauty formidable enough to give him -an Hours uneasiness (purely for the sake of Love) and -would often say, <i>Cupid</i>’s Quiver never held an Arrow -of force to reach his Heart; those little Delicacies, -those trembling aking Transports, which every sight -of the belov’d Object occasions, and so visibly distinguishes -a real Passion from a Counterfeit, he look’d -on as the Chimera’s of an idle Brain, form’d to inspire -Notions of an imaginary Bliss, and make Fools<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> -lose themselves in seeking; or if they had a Being; it was -only in weak Souls, a kind of a Disease with which -he assur’d himself he should never be infected. Ambition -was certainly the reigning Passion in his Soul, -and <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> Quality and vast Possessions, promising -a full Gratification of that, he ne’er so much as -wish’d to know a farther Happiness in Marriage.</p> - -<p>But while the <i>Count</i> and <i>Chevalier</i> were thus Employ’d, -the Rival Ladies past their Hours in a very different -Entertainment, the despair and bitter Lamentations -that the unfortunate <span class="smcap">Amena</span> made, when she -came out of her swooning, were such as mov’d even -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> to Compassion, and if any thing but resigning -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> cou’d have given her Consolation, -she wou’d willing have apply’d it. There was now no -need of further Dissimulation, and she confessed to -<span class="smcap">Amena</span>, that she had Lov’d the Charming <i>Count</i> with -a kind of Madness from the first Moment she beheld -him: That to favour her Designs on him, she had made -use of every Stratagem she cou’d invent, that by her -means, the Amour was first discover’d to <i>Monsieur</i> -<span class="smcap">Sanseverin</span>, and his Family Alarm’d the Night -before; and Lastly, that by her Persuasions, he had -resolv’d to send her to a Monastry, to which she must -prepare her self to go in a few Days without taking -any leave even of her Father; have you (cry’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span> -hastily interrupting her) have you prevail’d with -my Father to send me from this hated Place without -the Punishment of hearing his upbraidings? -Which the other answering in the Affirmative, I -thank you, resum’d <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, that Favour has cancell’d -all your Score of Cruelty, for after the Follies -I have been guilty of, nothing is so dreadful as the -Sight of him. And, who wou’d, oh Heavens! (continued -she bursting into a Flood of Tears) wish to stay -in a World so full of Falshood. She was able to utter -no more for some Moments, but at last, raising -herself on the Bed where she was laid, and endeavouring -to seem a little more compos’d: I have two Favours, -Madam, yet to ask of you (rejoin’d she) neither of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> -’em will, I believe, seem difficult to you to grant, that -you will make use of the Power you have with my -Father, to let my Departure be as sudden as possible, -and that while I am here, I may never see Count -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>. It was not likely that <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> shou’d -deny Requests so suitable to her own Inclinations, and -believing, with a great deal of Reason, that her Presence -was not very grateful, left her to the Care of -her Women, whom she order’d to attend her with -the same Diligence as herself. It was Evening before -the Count came, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> spent the remainder -of the Day in very uneasie Reflections; she knew -not, as yet, whether she had Cause to rejoyce in, or -blame her Fortune in so unexpectedly discovering her -Passion, and an incessant vicissitude of Hope and Fears, -rack’d her with most intollerable Inquietude, till the -darling Object of her Wishes appear’d; and tho’ the -first sight of him, added to her other Passions, that -of Shame, yet he manag’d his Address so well, -and so modestly and artfully hinted the Knowledge of -his Happiness, that every Sentiment gave place to a -new Admiration of the Wonders of his Wit; and if -before she lov’d, she now ador’d, and began to think -it a kind of Merit in herself, to be sensible of his. He -soon put it in her Power to oblige him, by giving -her the History of his Brother’s Passion for her Sister, -and she was not at all backward in assuring him how -much she approv’d of it, and that she wou’d write to -<span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> by the first Post, to engage her coming -to <i>Paris</i> with all imaginable Speed. In fine, -there was nothing He cou’d ask, refus’d, and indeed -it would have been ridiculous for her to have affected -Coyness, after the Testimonies she had long since given -him of one of the most violent Passions that ever -was; this fore-Knowledge sav’d abundance of Dissimulation -on both Sides, and she took care that if he -should be wanting in his kind Expressions after Marriage, -he should not have it in his Power to pretend -(as some Husbands have done) that his Stock was exhausted -in a tedious Courtship. Everything was presently<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> -agreed upon, and the Wedding Day appointed, -which was to be as soon as every thing cou’d be got -ready to make it Magnificent; tho’ the <i>Count’s</i> good -Nature made him desirous to learn something of -<span class="smcap">Amena</span>, yet he durst not enquire, for fear of giving -an Umbrage to his intended Bride; but she, imagining -the Reason of his Silence, very frankly told him, -how she was to be dispos’d of, this Knowledge -made no small Addition to his Contentment, for -had she stay’d in <i>Paris</i>, he could expect nothing -but continual Jealousies from <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>; besides, -as he really wish’d her happy, tho’ he could not -make her so, he thought Absence might banish a -hopeless Passion from her Heart, and Time and -other Objects efface an Idea, which could not but be -destructive to her Peace. He stay’d at <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> -House ’till it was pretty late, and perhaps they had -not parted in some Hours longer, if his impatience -to inform his Brother his Success, had not carried -him away. The young <i>Chevalier</i> was infinitely -more transported at the bare Hopes of being something -nearer the Aim of all his Hopes, than <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -was at the Assurance of losing his in Possession, -and could not forbear rallying him for placing the ultimate -of his Wishes on such a Toy, as he argu’d Woman -was, which the <i>Chevalier</i> endeavouring to confute, there -began a very warm Dispute, in which, neither of ’em -being able to convince the other, Sleep at last interpos’d -as Moderator. The next Day they went together -to visit <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, and from that time were -seldom asunder: But in Compassion to <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, they -took what Care they could to conceal the Design they -had in Hand, and that unhappy Lady was in a few -Days, according to her Rival’s Contrivance, hurried -away, without seeing any of her Friends. When she -was gone, and there was no farther need of keeping -it a Secret, the News of this great Wedding was immediately -spread over the whole Town, and every -one talk’d of it as their particular Interests or Affections -dictated. All <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Friends were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> -full of Joy, and he met no inconsiderable Augmentation -of it himself, when his Brother receiv’d a Letter -from <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>, with an Account, that <span class="smcap">Belpine’s</span> -Wound was found not Dangerous, and that -he was in a very fair way of Recovery. And it was -concluded, that as soon as the Wedding was over, -the <i>Chevalier</i> should go in Person to <span class="smcap">Amiens</span>, and -fetch his belov’d <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>, in order for a Second, -and as much desir’d Nuptial. There was no Gloom now -left to Cloud the Gaiety of the happy Day, nothing -could be more Grand than the Celebration of it, and -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> now thought her self at the end of all her -Cares; but the Sequel of this glorious Beginning, and -what Effect the Despair and Imprecations of <span class="smcap">Amena</span> -(when she heard of it) produc’d, shall, with the -continuance of the <i>Chevalier</i> <span class="smcap">Brillian’s</span> Adventures, -be faithfully related in the next Part.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">End of the <span class="smcap">First Part</span>.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/footer2.jpg" width="400" height="250" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span></p> - -<div class="tp"> - -<p class="titlepage larger">LOVE in <i>Excess</i>:<br /> -<span class="smaller">OR, THE</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Fatal Inquiry</span>,<br /> -<span class="smaller">A</span><br /> -<span class="larger">NOVEL.</span></p> - -<div class="bt bb"> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smcap">Part</span> the <span class="smcap">Second</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="bb"> - -<p class="titlepage">By <i>Mrs.</i> <span class="smcap">Haywood</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Each Day we break the bond of Humane Laws</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>For Love, and vindicate the common Cause.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Laws for Defence of civil Rights are plac’d;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Love throws the Fences down, and makes a gen’ral waste</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Maids, Widows, Wives, without distinction fall,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>The sweeping deluge Love, comes on and covers all.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="bt bb"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> -<img src="images/tp-deco.jpg" width="250" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="bt"> - -<p class="titlepage">LONDON:<br /> -Printed for <span class="smcap">W. Chetwood</span>, <span class="smcap">J. Woodman</span>, <span class="smcap">D.<br /> -Brown</span>, and <span class="smcap">S. Chapman.</span></p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-part2.jpg" width="700" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LOVE in EXCESS:<br /> -<span class="smaller">OR, THE</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Fatal Enquiry</span>.</h2> - -<div class="bt bb tp"> - -<h2><span class="smcap">Part</span> the <span class="smcap">Second</span>.</h2> - -</div> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-t.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap"><span class="smcap">The</span> Contentment that appear’d in the -Faces of the new Married Pair, added -so much to the Impatience of the <i>Chevalier</i> -<span class="smcap">Brillian</span> to see his belov’d -<span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>, that in a few Days after -the Wedding, he took leave of -them, and departed for <i>Amiens</i>: But as human Happiness -is seldom of long continuance, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -placing the Ultimate of <i>her’s</i> in the Possession of her -Charming Husband, secure of that, despis’d all future -Events, ’twas time for <i>Fortune</i>, who long enough -had smil’d, now to turn her Wheel, and punish the -presumption that defy’d her Power.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span></p> - -<p>As they were one Day at Dinner, a Messenger came -to Acquaint <i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> that <i>Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span> -was taken, suddenly, so violently Ill, that his -Physicians despair’d of his Life; and that he beg’d to -speak with him immediately: This Gentleman had -been Guardian to the <span class="smcap">Count</span> during his Minority, -and the Care and Faithfulness with which that Trust -had been Discharg’d, made him, with Reason, to regret -the danger of losing so good a Friend: He delay’d the -Visit not a Moment, and found him as the Servant had -told him, in a Condition which cou’d cherish no hopes -of Recovery, as soon as he perceiv’d the <span class="smcap">Count</span> -come into the Chamber, he desir’d to be left alone with -him, which Order being presently obey’d, My dear -Charge, (said he taking him by the Hand, and pressing -to his trembling Bosom) you see me at the point of -Death, but the knowledge of your many Virtues, and -the Confidence I have that you will not deny me the -request I am about to ask, makes me support the -Thoughts of it with Moderation. The other assuring -him of his readiness to serve him in any Command, -encourag’d the old Gentleman to prosecute his Discourse -in this manner: You are not Ignorant, my Lord (Rejoin’d -He) that my Son (the only one have) is on his -Travels, gone by my Approbation, and his own Desires -to make the Tour of <i>Europe</i>; but I have a Daughter, -whose Protection I wou’d entreat you to undertake; -her Education in a Monastery has hitherto kept -her intirely unacquainted with the Gayeties of a Court, -or the Conversation of the <i>Beau Monde</i>, and I have -sent for her to <i>Paris</i> purposely to Introduce her into -Company, proper for a young Lady, who I never design’d -for a Recluse; I know not whether she will be -here time enough to close my Eyes, but if you will -promise to receive her into your House, and not suffer -her artless and unexperienc’d Youth to fall into those -Snares which are daily laid for Innocence, and take -so far a Care, that neither she, nor the Fortune I leave -her, be thrown away upon a Man unworthy of her, I -shall dye well satisfy’d. <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> answer’d this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span> -Request, with repeated assurances of fulfilling it, and -frankly offer’d, if he had no other Person in whom he -rather wou’d confide, to take the management of the -whole Estate he left behind him, till young <span class="smcap">Frankville</span> -should return----The anxious Father was -transported at this Favour, and thank’d him in Terms -full of Gratitude and Affection; they spent some Hours -in settling this Affair, and perhaps had not ended it so -soon, if Word had not been brought that the young -Lady his Daughter was alighted at the Gate; ’tis impossible -to express the Joy which fill’d the old Gentleman’s -Heart at this News, and he began afresh to -put the <span class="smcap">Count</span> in mind of what he had promis’d -concerning her: As they were in this endearing, tho’ -mournful Entertainment, the matchless <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -enter’d, the Surprize and Grief for her Father’s Indisposition -(having heard of it but since she came into -the House) hindered her from regarding any thing but -him, and throwing herself on her Knees by the Bed-side, -wash’d the Hand which he stretch’d out to raise -her with, in a flood of Tears, accompany’d with Expressions, -which, unstudy’d and incoherent as they -were, had a delicacy in ’em, that show’d her Wit not -inferiour to her Tenderness; and that no Circumstance -cou’d render her otherwise than the most lovely Person -in the World; when the first transports of her Sorrow -were over, and that with much ado she was persuaded -to rise from the Posture she was in: The Affliction -I see thee in my Dear Child, (said her Father) -wou’d be a vast addition to the Agonies I feel, were -I not so happy as to be provided with Means for a -mitigation of it, think not in losing me thou wilt be -left wholly an Orphan, this worthy Lord will dry thy -Tears. Therefore, my last Commands to thee shall -be, to oblige thee to endeavour to deserve the Favours -he is pleas’d to do us in accepting thee for---He wou’d -have proceeded, but his Physicians (who had been in -Consultation in the next Room) coming in prevented -him, and <i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> taking the charming -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> by the Hand, led her to the Window,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> -and beginning to speak some Words of Consolation -to her, the softness of his Voice, and graceful Manner -with which he deliver’d himself (always the inseparable -Companions of his Discourse, but now more -particularly so) made her cast her Eyes upon him; -but alas, he was not an Object to be safely gaz’d at, -and in spight of the Grief she was in, she found something -in his Form which dissipated it; a kind of painful -Pleasure, a mixture of Surprize, and Joy, and -doubt, ran thro’ her in an instant; her Fathers Words -suggested to her Imagination, that she was in a possibility -of calling the charming Person that stood before -her, by a Name more tender than that of Guardian, and -all the Actions, Looks, and Address of <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -serv’d but to confirm her in that Belief. For now it -was, that this insensible began to feel the Power of Beauty, -and that Heart which had so long been Impregnable, -surrender’d in a Moment; the first sight of <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -gave him a Discomposure he had never felt -before, he Sympathiz’d in all her Sorrows, and was -ready to joyn his Tears with hers, but when her Eyes -met his, the God of Love seem’d there to have united -all his Lightnings for one effectual Blaze, their Admiration -of each others Perfections was mutual, and tho’ -he had got the start in Love, as being touch’d with -that Almighty Dart, before her Affliction had given -her leave to regard him, yet the softness of her Soul -made up for that little loss of time, and it was hard -to say whose Passion was the Strongest; she listned to his -Condolements, and assurances of everlasting Friendship, -with a pleasure which was but too visible in her Countenance, -and more enflam’d the <span class="smcap">Count</span>. As they were -exchanging Glances, as if each vyed with the other who -should dart the fiercest Rays, they heard a sort of ominous -Whispering about the Bed, and presently one of -those who stood near it, beckon’d them to come thither; -the Physicians had found <i>Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span> in a -much worse Condition than they left him in, and soon -after perceiv’d evident Symptoms in him of approaching -Death, and indeed there were but a very few Moments<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> -between him and that other unfathomable -World; the use of Speech had left him, and he cou’d -take no other leave of his dear Daughter than with -his Eyes; which sometimes were cast tenderly on her, -sometimes on the <span class="smcap">Count</span>, with a beseeching Look, -as it were, to Conjure him to be careful of his Charge; -then up to Heaven, as witness of the Trust he reposed -in him. There cou’d not be a Scene more Melancholly -than this dumb Farewell, and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -whose soft Disposition had never before been -shock’d, had not Courage to support so dreadful a -one as this, but fell upon the Bed just as her Father -Breath’d his last, as motionless as he. It is impossible -to represent the Agony’s which fill’d the Heart of -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> at this View, he took her in his Arms, -and assisted those who were endeavouring to recover -her, with a wildness in his Countenance, a trembling -Horror shaking all his Fabrick in such a manner, as -might have easily discover’d to the Spectators (if they -had not been too busily employ’d to take notice of -it) that he was Actuated by a Motive far more powerful -than that of Compassion. As soon as she came -to herself, they forc’d her from the Dead Body of her -Father (to which she Clung) and carried her into another -Room, and it being judg’d convenient that she -should be remov’d from that House, where every thing -wou’d serve but to remind her of her Loss, the <span class="smcap">Count</span> -desir’d the Servants of <i>Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span> shou’d -be call’d, and then in the presence of ’em all, declar’d -their Master’s last Request, and order’d an Account -of all Affairs shou’d be brought to his House, where -he wou’d immediately Conduct their young Lady, as -he had promis’d to her Father. If <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had -been without any other cause of Grief, this Eclaircissment -had been sufficient to have made her Miserable: -She had already entertained a most tender Affection -for the <span class="smcap">Count</span>, and had not so little discernment -as not to be sensible she had made the like Impression -on him; but now she wak’d as from a Dream -of promis’d Joys, to certain Woes, and the same Hour<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> -which gave Birth to her Passion, commenc’d an adequate -Despair, and kill’d her Hopes just budding.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Indeed</span> there never was any Condition so truly -deplorable as that of this unfortunate Lady; she had -just lost a dear and tender Father, whose Care was ever -watchful for her, her Brother was far off, and she had -no other Relation in the World to apply her self to for -Comfort, or Advice; not even an Acquaintance at <i>Paris</i>, -or Friend, but him who but newly was become -so, and whom she found it dangerous to make use of, -whom she knew it was a Crime to Love, yet cou’d -not help Loving; the more she thought, the more she -grew Distracted, and the less able to resolve on any Thing; -a thousand Times she call’d on Death to give her ease, but -that pale Tyrant flies from the Pursuer, she had not been -yet long enough acquainted with the ills of Life, and -must endure (how unwilling soever) her part of Sufferings -in common with the rest of human kind.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> soon as <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> had given some necessary -Directions to the Servants, he came to the Couch, -where she was sitting in a fix’d and silent Sorrow (tho’ -inwardly toss’d with various and violent Agitations) -and offering her his Hand, entreated her to permit him -to wait on her from that House of Woe. Alas! Said -she, to what purpose shou’d I remove, who bear my -Miseries about me? Wretch that I am!---a flood of -Tears, here interpos’d, and hindred her from proceeding, -which falling from such lovely Eyes, had a Magnetick -Influence to draw the same from every beholder; -but <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> who knew that was not the -way to Comfort her, dry’d his as soon as possible, and -once more beg’d she wou’d depart; suffer my return then -(answer’d she) to the Monastery, for what have I to do -in <i>Paris</i> since I have lost my Father? By no means, Madam -(resum’d the <i>Count</i> hastily) that were to disappoint your -Fathers Designs, and contradict his last Desires; believe -most lovely <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> (continu’d he taking her -by the Hand and letting fall some Tears which he cou’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> -not restrain, upon it) that I bear at least an equal Share -in your Affliction, and lament for you, and for my -self: Such a regard my grateful Soul paid <i>Monsieur</i> -<span class="smcap">Frankville</span> for all his wondrous Care and Goodness -to me, that in his Death methinks I am twice an -Orphan. But Tears are fruitless to reinspire his now -cold Clay, therefore must transmit the Love and Duty -I owed him living, to his Memory Dead, and an exact -performance of his Will; and since he thought me -worthy of so vast a Trust as <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, I hope she -will be guided by her Fathers Sentiments, and believe -that <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> (tho’ a Stranger to her) has a Soul -not uncapable of Friendship. Friendship! Did I say? -(rejoyn’d he softning his Voice) that term is too mean -to express a Zeal like mine, the Care, the Tenderness, -the Faith, the fond Affection of Parents,---Brothers, ----Husbands,---Lovers, all Compriz’d in one! One -great Unutterable! Comprehensive Meaning, is mine! -for <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>! She return’d no Answer but Sighs, -to all he said to her; but he renewing his Entreaties, -and urging her Father’s Commands, she was at last -prevail’d upon to go into his Chariot, which had waited -at the Door all the Time of his being there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> they went, he left nothing unsaid that he believ’d -might tend to her Consolation, but she had Griefs -which at present he was a Stranger to; and his Conversation, -in which she found a thousand Charms, rather -Encreas’d, than Diminish’d the trouble she was -in: Every Word, every Look of his, was a fresh Dagger -to her Heart, and in spight of the Love she bore -her Father, and the unfeign’d Concern his sudden -Death had given her, she was now convinc’d that -<span class="smcap">Count D’elmont’s</span> Perfections were her severest -Wounds.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> they came to his House, He presented her -to <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, and giving her a brief Account of -what had happened, engag’d that Lady to receive her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> -with all imaginable Demonstrations of Civility and -Kindness.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> soon left the two Ladies together, pretending -Business, but indeed to satisfie his Impatience, which -long’d for an opportunity to meditate on this Adventure. -But his Reflections were now grown far less pleasing -than they used to be; real Sighs flew from his Breast -uncall’d: And <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Image in dazling Brightness! -In terrible Array of killing Charms; Fir’d Him -with (impossible to be attain’d) Desires: he found by -sad Experience what it was to Love, and to Despair. -He Admir’d! Ador’d! And wish’d, even to Madness! -Yet had too much Honour, too much Gratitude for -the Memory of Monsieur <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>; and too -sincere an Awe for the lovely Cause of his Uneasiness, -to form a Thought that cou’d encourage his new -Passion. What wou’d he not have given to have been -Unmarried? How often did he Curse the Hour in -which <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> fondness was discover’d? And -how much more his own Ambition, which prompted -him to take Advantage of it, and hurry’d him -Precipitately to a Hymen, where Love, (the noblest -Guest) was wanting? It was in these racks of -Thought, that the unfortunate <span class="smcap">Amena</span> was remembr’d, -and he cou’d not forbear acknowledging the Justice -of that Doom, which inflicted on him, these -very Torments he had given her. A severe Repentance -seiz’d on his Soul, and <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> for whom he -never had any thing more than an Indifferency; now -began to seem Distasteful to his Fancy, he look’d on -her, as indeed she was, the chief Author of <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> -Misfortunes, and abhorr’d her for that Infidelity. But -when he consider’d her, as the Bar ’twixt Him and -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> she appear’d like his ill Genius to him, -and he cou’d not support the Thoughts of being -oblig’d to love her (or at least to seem as if he did) -with Moderation. In the midst of these Reflections -his Servant came in and deliver’d a Letter to him -which had been just left by the Post. The <span class="smcap">Count</span> -immediately knew the Hand to be <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span>, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> -was cover’d with the utmost Confusion and Remorse -when he read these Lines.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break4.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To the too Charming and Perfidious<br /> -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Now</span> Hopes, and Fears, and Jealousies are over! -Doubt is no more! You are for ever lost! And my -unfaithful, happy Rival! Triumphs in your Arms, and -my Undoing!----I need not wish you Joy, the haste you -made to enter into Hymen’s Bonds, and the more than -ordinary Pomp with which that Ceremony was Celebrated, -assures me you are highly satisfied with your Condition; -and that any future Testimonies of the Friendship -of so wretched a Creature as <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, wou’d be -receiv’d by you, with the same Disregard, as those she -has given you of a more tender Passion.----Shameful -Remembrance! Oh that I cou’d Blot it out!----Erace -from the Book of Time those fond deluded Hours! Forget -I ever saw the Lovely false <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>! Ever -listned to his soft persuasive Accents! And thought -his love a mighty Price for Ruin------My Father -writes that you are Married, Commands my Return to -Paris, and assume an Air as Gay, and Chearful as that -with which I used to appear.----Alas! How little does -he know his Daughters Heart? And how impossible is -it, for me to Obey him, can I look on you as the Husband -of <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, without remembring you were -once the Lover of <span class="smcap">Amena</span>? Can Love like mine, so -fierce, so passionately, tender, e’re sink to a calm, cold -Indifference? Can I behold the fond Endearments of -your bridal Joys (which you’d not be able to Restrain, -even before me) and not burst with Envy? No, the Sight -wou’d turn me quite Distracted, and I shou’d commit some -Desperate Violence that wou’d Undoe us all.---Therefore, -I hide my self for ever from it, bid an everlasting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> -Adieu to all the gay Delights and Pleasures of my -Youth.-----To all the Pomp and Splendor of the Court.-----To -all that the mistaken World calls Happiness.---To -Father, Friends, Relations, all that’s Dear----But -your Idea, and that, not even these consecrated Walls, -nor Iron Gates keep out; Sleeping or Waking you are -ever with me, you mingle with my most solemn Devotions; -and while I Pray to Heaven that I may think -on you no more, a guilty Pleasure rises in my Soul, and -contradicts my Vows! All my Confessions are so many -Sins, and the same Breath which tells my Ghostly Father -I abjure your Memory, speaks your dear Name -with Transport. Yes----Cruel! Ungrateful!---Faithless -as you are, I still do Love you----Love you to that -infinite degree, that now, methinks fir’d with thy Charms -(repenting all I’ve said) I cou’d wish even to renew those -Moments of my Ruin!----Pity me <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, if -thou hast Humanity.-----Judge what the rackings of -my Soul must be, when I resolve, with all this Love, -this Languishment about me; never to see you more.</i></p> - -<p><i>Every thing is preparing for my Reception into holy -Orders, (how unfit I am Heaven knows) and in a few -Days I shall put on the Vail which excludes me from -the World for ever; therefore, if these distracted Lines -are worth an Answer, it must be Speedy, or it will not -come to my Hands. Perhaps not find me Living.-----I -can no more-----Farewel (thou dear Destroyer of my -Soul)</i></p> - -<p class="right"><i>Eternally Farewel</i>, <span class="smcap">Amena</span>.</p> - -<p><i>P.S.</i> <i>I</i> do not urge you to write, <i>Alovisa</i> (I wish -I cou’d not say your Wife) will perhaps think it too -great a Condescention, and not suffer you so long from -her Embraces.----Yet if you can get loose.----But -you know best what’s proper to be done----Forgive -the restlesness of a dispairing Wretch, who cannot -cease to Love, tho’ from this Moment she must cease -to tell you so---Once more, and for Ever,</p> - -<p class="right">Adieu.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Had</span> this Letter came a Day sooner, ’tis probable -it wou’d have had but little Effect on the Soul of -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, but his Sentiments of Love were now -so wholly chang’d, that what before he wou’d but -have laugh’d at, and perhaps despis’d, now fill’d him -with Remorse and serious Anguish. He read it over -several Times, and found so many Proofs in it of a -sincere and constant Affection, that he began to pity -Her, with a Tenderness like that of a Relation, but -no more: The charming <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had Engross’d -all his fonder Wishes; else it is not impossible but that -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> might have had more Reason to fear her -Rivalship after Marriage, than before. That Lady having -been without the presence of her dear Husband -some Hours, had not patience to remain any longer -without seeing Him, and making an excuse to <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -for leaving her alone, came running to the -Closet where he was; how unwelcome she was grown, -the Reader may imagine, he receiv’d her, not as he -was wont; the Gaity which used to sparkle in his -Eyes, (at once declaring, and creating Amorous desires) -now gave Place to a sullen Gloominess, he look’d -not on her, or if by chance he did; ’twas more with -Anger than with Love, in spite of his endeavours to -conceal it, she was too quick sighted (as all are that -truly Love) not to be sensible of this Alteration. However -she took no notice of it, but Kissing and Embracing -him (according to her Custom whenever they -were alone) beg’d him to leave his solitary Amusement, -and help her to Comfort the afflicted Lady he -brought there. Her Endearments serv’d but to encrease -his Peevishness, and heighten her Surprize at his Behaviour; -and indeed, the Moment that she enter’d the -Closet was the last of her Tranquility.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> with much perswasions she had prevail’d -with him to go with her into the Room where <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -was, he appeared so disorder’d at the second -Sight of that Charmer, as wou’d certainly have let<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> -<span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> into the secret of his Passion, had she -not been retir’d to a Window to recover herself from -the Confusion her Husbands coldness had thrown her -in, and by that fortunate disregard of his Looks at that -critical Instant, given him (who never wanted presence -of Mind) leave to form both his Countenance and manner -of Address, so as to give no suspicion of the Truth.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> little Company was very far from being Entertaining -to one another; every one had their particular -Cogitations, and were not displeas’d not to be Interrupted -in them. It growing late, <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> -conducted <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> to a Chamber which she had -order’d to be prepar’d for her, and then retir’d to her -own, hoping that when the <span class="smcap">Count</span> shou’d come to -Bed, she might be able to make some Discovery of -the Cause of his Uneasiness. But she was deceiv’d, -he spoke not to her, and when by a thousand little -Inventions she urg’d him to reply to what she said, -it was in such a fashion as only let her see, that he was -extreamly troubled at something, but cou’d not guess -at what. As soon as Day broke, he rose, and shutting -himself into his Closet, left her in the greatest Consternation -imaginable; she cou’d not think it possible -that the Death of <i>Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span> shou’d -work this Transformation, and knew of no other -Misfortune that had happened. At last she remembred -she had heard one of the Servants say, a Letter -was brought to their Master by the Post, and began -to reflect on every Thing (in the power of <i>Fortune</i> -to determine) that cou’d threaten a Disturbance, yet -was still as ignorant as ever. She lay not long in Bed, but -putting on her Cloaths with more Expedition than usual -went to the Closet, resolving to speak to him in a -manner as shou’d oblige him to put an end to the uncertainty -she was in, but finding the Door lock’d, her -Curiosity made her look thro’ the Keyhole, and she -saw him sometimes very intirely reading a Letter, -and sometimes writing, as tho’ it were an Answer -to it. A sudden Thought came into her Head, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> -she immediately went softly from the place where -she was, without knocking at the Door, and stay’d in -a little Chamber adjacent to it, where none could pass -to, or from the Closet without being perceiv’d by her; she -had not waited long, before she heard the <i>Count</i> Ring, and -presently saw a Servant enter, and soon after return with -a Letter in his Hand; she wou’d not speak to him then, -for fear of being over heard by her Husband, but followed -him down Stairs, and when he came towards the -bottom, call’d to him in a low Voice to tarry ’till she -came to him; the Fellow durst not but Obey, and -there being no body near ’em, commanded him to deliver -her the Letter: But he either afraid or unwilling -to betray his Trust, excus’d himself from it as well -as he cou’d, but she was resolv’d to have it; and when -Threats wou’d not avail, condescended to Entreaties, -to which she added Bribes, which last Article join’d to -the promise she made of never revealing it, won him -to her Purpose. She had scarce patience to forbear -opening it before she got to her Chamber: The Superscription -(which she saw was for <span class="smcap">Amena</span>) fir’d -her with Disdain and Jealousie, and it is hardly possible -to imagine, much less to describe the Torrent of -her Indignation, when she found that it contain’d these -Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To the Lovely <span class="smcap">Amena</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">You</span> accuse me of Cruelty, when at the same Time -you kill me with yours: How Vile! How despicable, -must I be grown in your Opinion, when you believe I can -be Happy, when you are Miserable?---Can I enjoy the -Pleasures of a Court, while you are shut within a Cloyster?----Shall -I suffer the World to be depriv’d of such -a Treasure as <span class="smcap">Amena</span>? For the Crime of worthless -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>-----No, no Fair, injur’d Softness, Return, -and bless the Eyes of every Beholder! Shine out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span> -again in your native Lustre, uneclips’d by Grief, the -Star of Beauty and the guide of Love.---And, if my -unlucky Presence will be a Damp to the Brightness of -your Fires, I will for ever quit the Place.----Tho’ I -cou’d wish, you’d give me leave sometimes to gaze upon -you, and draw some hop’d Presages of future Fortune -from the Benignity of your Influence,---Yes, <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, -I wou’d sigh out my Repentance at your Feet, and try -at least to obtain a Pardon for my Infidelity.----For, ’tis -true, what you have heard,----I am Marry’d---But -oh <span class="smcap">Amena</span>! Happiness is not always an Attendant on -<span class="antiqua">Hymen</span>.--However, I yet may call you Friend--I yet -may Love you, tho’ in a different way from what I once -pretended to; and believe me, that the Love of Souls, -as it is the most uncommon, especially in our Sex, so ’tis -the most refin’d and noble of all Passions, and such a -Love shall be for ever yours. Even <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> (who -has robb’d you of the rest) cannot justly resent my giving -you that part,----You’ll wonder at this Alteration in -my Temper, but ’tis sincere, I am no more the Gay, the -Roving <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, and when you come to <span class="antiqua">Paris</span>, -perhaps you will find me in a Condition more liable to -your Pity than Indignation. What shall I say <span class="smcap">Amena</span>? -My Crime is my Punishment, I have offended -against Love, and against you, and am, if possible, as -Miserable, as Guilty: Torn with Remorse, and Tortur’d -with----I cannot----must not Name it----but -’tis something which can be term’d no other than the -utmost severity of my Fate.---Haste then to Pity me, -to comfort, to advise me, if (as you say) you yet retain -any remains of your former Tenderness for this Ungrateful -Man</i>,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">D’elmont.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ungrateful</span> indeed! Cry’d <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -(Transported with Excess of Rage and Jealousie) Oh -the Villain!---What Miseries! What Misfortunes are -these thou talk’st of? What Unhappiness has waited -on thy <i>Himen</i>? ’Tis I alone am wretched! base Deceiver!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Then</span>, as if she wanted to discover something farther -to heighten the Indignation she was in, she began -to read it over again, and indeed the more she -consider’d the meaning of what she read, the more her -Passions swell’d, ’till they got at last the entire Dominion -of her Reason: She tore the Letter in a thousand -pieces, and was not much less unmerciful to her Hair -and Garments. ’Tis possible, that in the Violence of -her Fury, she might have forgot her promise to the -Servant, to vent some part of it on her Husband, if -her Woman coming into the Room to know if she -was ready to dress, had not prevented her, by telling -her the <i>Count</i> was gone abroad, and had left Word, -that he shou’d not return ’till the Evening. <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -had thrown herself on the Bed, and the Curtains being -drawn discover’d not the disorder she was in, and which -her Pride made her willing shou’d be still a Secret, therefore -dismist her with saying, she wou’d call her when -she wanted any thing. Tho’ <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was too apt -to give a loose to her Passions on every occasion, to -the Destruction of her own Peace, yet she knew well -enough how to disguise ’em, when ever she found -the Concealing of them wou’d be an Advantage to her -Designs: And when the Transports of her Rage was -so far over, as to give her Liberty of Reflection, and -she began to Examine the State of her Affection to -the <i>Count</i>, she soon perceiv’d it had so much the better -of all other Considerations, that in spite of the injustice -she thought him guilty of to her, she cou’d not -perswade her self to do any thing that might give -him a pretence to Quarrel with her. She thought she -had done enough in Intercepting this Letter, and did -not doubt but that <span class="smcap">Amena</span> wou’d take his not writing -to her so much to Heart, as to prevent her ever -returning to <i>Paris</i>, and resolv’d to omit nothing of -her former Endearments, or make a shew of being in -the least disoblig’d; this sort of Carriage she imagin’d -wou’d not only lay him more open and unguarded -to the diligent watch she design’d to make on all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> -his Words and Actions, but likewise awaken him to -a just Sense of her Goodness, and his own Ingratitude.-----She -rightly judg’d that when People are Marry’d, -Jealousie was not the proper Method to revive a decay’d -Passion, and that after Possession it must be only -Tenderness, and constant Assiduity to please, that can -keep up desire, fresh and gay: Man is too Arbitrary -a Creature to bear the least Contradiction, where he -pretends an absolute Authority, and that Wife who -thinks by ill humour and perpetual Taunts, to make -him weary of what she wou’d reclaim him from, -only renders her self more hateful, and makes that -justifiable which before was blameable in him. These, -and the like Considerations made <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> put on -a Countenance of Serenity, and she so well acted the -part of an Unsuspecting Wife, that <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was -far from imagining what she had done: However -he still behav’d with the same Caution as before, to -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>; and certainly never did People disguise -the Sentiments of their Souls more artfully than did -these three---<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> vail’d her secret Languishments, -under the Covert of her grief for her Father, -the <span class="smcap">Count</span> his Burning anguish, in a gloomy Melancholy -for the Loss of his Friend; but <span class="smcap">Alovysa’s</span> -Task was much the hardest, who had no pretence for -grief (raging, and bleeding with neglected Love, and -stifled Pride) to frame her Temper to a seeming Tranquility----All -made it their whole study to deceive -each other, yet none but <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> was intirely in -the dark; for the <i>Count</i> and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had but -too true a guess at one another’s meaning, every look -of his, for he had Eyes that needed no Interpreter, gave -her Intelligence of his Heart, and the Confusion which -the understanding those looks gave her, sufficiently told -him how sensible she was of ’em.----Several Days -they liv’d in this Manner, in which time <i>Monsieur</i> -<span class="smcap">Frankville</span> was Interr’d. Which Solemnity, -the <i>Count</i> took care shou’d be perform’d with a Magnificence -suitable to the Friendship he publickly profest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> -to have born him, and the secret Adoration his Soul -paid to his Remains.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nothing</span> happned of Moment,’till a Day or two -after the Funeral, a Gentleman newly arriv’d at <i>Paris</i>, -came to visit the <i>Count</i>, and gave him an Account of -<span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> having taken the Habit; how, (said <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -Interrupting him) is it possible?----Has she -then profest? Yes, answer’d the Gentleman, having a -Sister whom I always tenderly lov’d at the Monastery -at St. <i>Dennis</i>, my affection oblig’d me to make it in my -way to visit her. <span class="smcap">Amena</span> was with her at the Grate, -when she receiv’d me; I know not how, among other -Discourses, we hapned to talk of the fine Gentlemen -of <i>Paris</i>, which it was Impossible to do, without -mentioning Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, the <span class="smcap">Count</span> answer’d -not this Complement as he wou’d have done at -another time, but only bowing with an humble Air, -gave him Liberty to prosecute his Discourse; the moment -(resum’d he) that <span class="smcap">Amena</span> heard your Name, -the Tears run from her fair Eyes; in such abundance, -and she seem’d opprest with so violent a Grief, that -she was not able to stay any longer with us. When -she was gone, my Sister whom she had made her Confidant, -gave me the History of her Misfortunes, and -withal, told me, that the next Day she was to be Initiated -into Holy Orders: My Curiosity engag’d me to -stay at St. <i>Dennis</i>, to see the Ceremony perform’d, which -was Solemn; but not with that Magnificence which -I expected; it seems it was <span class="smcap">Amena’s</span> desire that it -should be as private as possible, and for that Reason, -none of her Relations were there, and several of the -Formalities of Entrance omitted: After it was over, -my Sister beckon’d me to come to the Grate, where -I saw her before, and Conjur’d me in the Name of her -new Sister, to give this to your Hands; in speaking -these Words, he took a Letter out of his Pocket, which -the <span class="smcap">Count</span> immediately opening, to his great surprise, -found it contain’d, as follows.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center larger">To the Inhuman <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">To</span> be pity’d by you, and that you shou’d tell me -so, was all the recompence I ask’d for Loss of -Father, Friends, Reputation, and Eternal Peace; but -now, too late, I find that the fond Maid who scorns the -World for Love, is sure to meet for her reward the -scorn of him she Loves----Ungrateful Man! Cou’d you -not spare one Moment from that long Date of Happiness, -to give a last farewel to her you have undone? What -wou’d not this Barbarous Contempt have drawn upon -you, were I of <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> Temper? Sure I am, all -that disdain and rage, cou’d Inspire Malice with, had -been Inflicted on you, but you well know my Soul is of a -another Stamp.----Fool that I was, and little vers’d -in the base Arts of Man, believ’d I might by tenderness, -and faithful Friendship, gain esteem; tho’ Wit and -Beauty the two great Provocatives to create Love were -wanting. But do not think that I am yet so mean as -to desire to hear from you; no, I have put all future -Correspondence with you out of my Power, and hope to -drive it even from my wish: Whether your disdain, or -the Holy Banner I am listed under, has wrought this -Effect, I know not, but methinks I breath another Air, -think on you with more Tranquility, and bid you without -dying,</i></p> - -<p class="right">Eternally Adieu, <span class="smcap">Amena</span>.</p> - -<p><i>P.S.</i> <span class="smcap">Let</span> <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> know I am no more her -Rival, Heaven has my Soul, and I forgive you both.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was strangely fir’d at the reading these -Lines, which left him no Room to doubt that his -Letter had miscarried, he could not presently imagine -by what means, but was resolv’d if possible, to find it -out. However, he dissembled his Thoughts ’till the -Gentleman had taken his leave; then calling for the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> -Servant, whom he had entrusted with the carrying it, -he took him by the Throat, and holding his drawn -Sword directly to his Breast, swore that Moment -should be his last, if he did not immediately confess -the Truth; the poor Fellow, frighted almost to Death, -trembling, and falling on his Knees, implor’d Forgiveness, -and discover’d all. <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> who was -in the next Chamber, hearing her Husband call for -that Servant, with a Tone somewhat more imperious -than what he was accustom’d to, and a great Noise -soon after, imagin’d some Accident had happen’d to -betray her, and ran in to know the Certainty, just -as the <i>Count</i> had discharg’d the Servant, at once from -his Service and his Presence. You have done well -Madam (said <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, looking on her with Eyes -sparkling with Indignation) you have done well, by -your impertinent Curiosity and Imprudence, to rouze -me from my Dream of Happiness, and remind me, -that I am that wretched Thing a Husband! ’Tis well -indeed (answer’d <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, who saw now that there -was no need of farther Dissimulation) that any thing -can make you remember, both what you are, and -what I am. You, (resum’d he, hastily interrupting -her) have taken an effectual Method to prove your -self a Wife!----a very Wife!----Insolent---Jealous---and -Censorious!---But Madam (continued he -frowning) since you are pleas’d to assert your Priveledge, -be assur’d, I too shall take my turn, and will -exert the---Husband! In saying this, he flung out of -the Room in spite of her Endeavours to hinder him, -and going hastily through a Gallery which had a large -Window that looked into the Garden, he perceived -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> lying on a green Bank, in a melancholy, but -a charming Posture, directly opposite to the Place -where he was; her Beauties appear’d, if possible, more -to Advantage than ever he had seen them, or at least, -he had more Opportunity thus unseen by her, to gaze -upon ’em; he in a Moment lost all the Rage of Temper -he had been in, and his whole Soul was taken up -with softness; he stood for some Moments fix’d in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> -silent Admiration, but Love has small Dominion in a -Heart, that can content it self with a distant Prospect, -and there being a Pair of back-Stairs at the farther -end of the Gallery, which led to the Garden. He -either forgot, or not regarded what Construction -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> might make on this private Interview, if -by Chance, from any of the Windows she should be -Witness of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melliora</span> was so intent on a Book she had in -her Hand, that she saw not the <i>Count</i> ’till he was close -enough to her to discern what was the Subject of her -Entertainment, and finding it the Works of <i>Monsieur</i> -<span class="smcap">L’fontenelle</span>; Philosophy, Madam, at your -Age (said he to her with an Air, which exprest surprize) -is as wond’rous as your other Excellencies; but -I am confident, had this Author ever seen <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -his Sentiments had been otherwise than now -they seem to be, and he would have been able to -write of nothing else but Love and her. <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -blush’d Extremely at his unexpected Presence, -and the Complement he made Her; but recollecting -her self as soon as she cou’d; I have a better Opinion -of <i>Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">L’fontenelle</span>, (answer’d she) but -if I were really Mistress of as many Charms as you -wou’d make me believe, I should think my self little -beholding to Nature, for bestowing them on me, if -by their means I were depriv’d of so choice an Improvement -as this Book has given me. Thank Heaven, -then Madam, (resum’d he) that you were born in -an Age successive to that which has produc’d so many -fine Treatises of this kind for your Entertainment; -since (I am very Confident) this, and a long space of -future Time will have no other Theme, but that which -at present you seem so much averse to. <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -found so much difficulty in endeavouring to Conceal -the disorder she was in at this Discourse, that it rendered -her unable to reply; and He, (who possibly guest -the occasion of her silence) taking one of her Hands -and tenderly pressing it between his, look’d so full in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> -her Eyes, as heighten’d her Confusion, and discover’d -to his ravish’d View, what most he wish’d to find: -Ambition, Envy, Hate, Fear, or Anger, every other -Passion that finds Entrance in the Soul; Art, and Discretion, -may Disguise, but Love, tho’ it may be -feign’d, can never be Conceal’d, not only the Eyes -(those true and most Perfect Intelligencers of the -Heart) but every Feature, every Faculty betrays it! It -fills the whole Air of the Person possest with it; it -wanders round the Mouth! Plays in the Voice! trembles -in the Accent! And shows it self a thousand different, -nameless ways! Even <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Care to -hide it, made it more apparent, and the Transported -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> not considering where he was, or who -might be a witness of his Rapture, cou’d not forbear -catching her in his Arms, and grasping her with an -Extasie, which plainly told her what his thoughts were, -tho’ at that time he had not Power to put ’em into -Words; and indeed there is no greater proof of a -vast and elegant Passion, than the being uncapable of -Expressing it:-----He had perhaps held her in this -strict embrace, ’till some Accident had discover’d and -separated him from her; if the Alarm this manner of -Proceeding gave her Modesty, had not made her force -her self from him.---They both stood in a silent Consternation, -nor was he much less disorder’d at the Temerity, -the violence of his ungovernable Passion had -made him guilty of, than she was at the Liberty he had -taken; he knew not how to Excuse, nor she, to Reproach; -Respect (the constant Attendant on a sincere -Affection) had tyed his Tongue, and shame mixed with -the uncertainty after what manner she shou’d resent -it, Hers. At last, the Natural Confidence of his Sex -Encourag’d him to break this mute Entertainment,--There -are Times Madam (said he) in which the wisest -have not Power over their own Actions---If therefore -I have offended, impute not the Crime to me, -but that unavoidable impulse which for a Moment -hurry’d me from my self; for be assured while <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -can Command his Thoughts, they shall be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> -most obedient to your Wishes----As <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -was about to reply, she saw a Servant coming hastily -to speak to the <span class="smcap">Count</span>, and was not a little glad -of so favourable an opportunity to retire without being -oblig’d to continue a Discourse in which she must -either lay a severe Punishment on her Inclinations by -making a quarrel with him, or by forgiving him too -easily, Trespass against the strict Precepts of Virtue she -had always profess’d: She made what haste she cou’d -into her chamber, and carry’d with her a World of -troubled Meditations, she now no longer doubted of -the <span class="smcap">Count’s</span> Passion, and trembled with the Apprehension -of what he might in time be prompted -to; but when she Reflected how dear that Person she -had so much cause to fear, was to her, she thought -her self, at once the most unfortunate and most Guilty -of her Sex.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Servant who gave ’em this seasonable Interruption -delivered a Letter to his Master, which he -opening hastily, knowing that it came from his Brother -by the Seal, found the Contents as follows.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">I hop’d</span> (my Dearest Friend, and Brother) by this day -to have Embrac’d you, but Fortune takes delight to -disappoint our wishes, when highest rais’d, and nearest -to their Aim.----The Letter I carry’d from her, whom -I think it my Happiness to call Sister, joyn’d with my -own Faith, Love, and Assiduity; at length Triumph’d -over all the little niceties and objections my Charmer -made against our Journey, and she Condescended to order -every thing requisite for our departure from <span class="antiqua">Amiens</span> -shou’d be got ready.----But how shall I Express the -Grief, the Horrour, the Distraction of my Soul, when -the very Evening before the Day we shou’d have set out, -as I was sitting with her, a sudden, but terrible Illness, -like the Hand of Death seiz’d on her, she fell (oh! -my Brother) Cold, and Speechless in my Arms------Guess, -what I endur’d at that Afflicting Moment, all -that I had of Man, or Reason left me; and sure had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> -not the Care of the Baroness and some other Ladies -(whom my Cries drew in to her Assistance) in a little -time recover’d her, I had not now surviv’d to give you -this Account: Again, I saw the Beauties of her Eyes! -again, I heard her Voice, but her Disorder was -yet so great, that it was thought convenient she should -be put to Bed; the Baroness seeing my Despair, desired -me not to quit her House, and by that Means I had -News every Hour, how her Fevor encreas’d, or abated, -for the Physicians being desir’d to deal freely, assur’d -us, that was her Distemper: For several Days -she continued in a Condition that could give us no Hopes -of her Recovery; in which Time, as you may imagine, -I was little capable of Writing.-----The wildness of -my unruly Grief, made me not be permitted to come -into her Chamber; but they cou’d not, without they had -made use of Force, hinder me from lying at her Door: -I counted all her Groans, heard every Sigh the Violence -of her Pain drew from her, and watch’d the Countenance of -every Person who came out of her Chamber, as Men -who wou’d form a Judgment of future Consequences, -do the Signs in Heaven.----But I trouble you with -this tedious recital, she is now, if there is any Dependance -on the Doctors Skill, past Danger, tho’ not fit to -Travel, at least this Month, which gives no small Aleviation -to the greatness of my Joys (which otherwise -wou’d be unbounded) for her Recovery, since it occasions -so long a Separation from the best of Brothers, and -of Friends: Farewell, may all your Wishes meet Success, -and an Eternal round of Happiness attend you; -to add to mine, I beg you’ll write by the first Post, -which, next to seeing you, is the greatest I can Taste. -I am, my Lord, with all imaginable Tenderness and -Respect, your most Affectionate Brother and Humble -Servant,</i></p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Brillian</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> judg’d it proper that <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> shou’d -see this Letter, because it so much concern’d her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> -Sister, and was ordering the Servant to carry it to her, -(not being himself willing to speak to her) just as -she was coming towards him: She had receiv’d a Letter -from the <i>Baroness</i> <span class="smcap">De Beronvill</span>, at the -same time that the <i>Chevalier</i> <span class="smcap">Brillian’s</span> was -brought, and was glad to take the Opportunity of -Communicating the Contents of it, in hopes by this -Conversation, to be reconcil’d to her Husband: But -the gloomy Sullenness of the Humour he had left her -with, return’d at Sight of her, and after some little -Discourse of Family Affairs, which he could not -avoid answering, walk’d carelesly away: She follow’d -him at a distance, ’till he was got up to the Gallery, -and perceiving he went toward his Closet, mended -her Pace, and was close to him when he was going -in. My Lord, (said she) with a Voice but half assured, -and which would not have given her leave to -utter more, if he had not interrupted her, by telling -her he would be alone, and shutting the Door hastily -upon her, but she prevented his Locking of it, by -pushing against it with all her Force, and he, not exerting -his, for fear of hurting her, suffer’d her Entrance: -But look’d on her with a Countenance so -forbidding, as in spite of the natural Haughtiness of -her Temper, and the Resolution she had made to -speak to him, render’d her unable for some Moments -to bring forth a Word; but the silent Grief, which -appear’d in her Face, pleaded more with the good -Nature of the <i>Count</i>, than any thing she could have -said: He began to pity the unhappiness of her too -violent Affection, and to wish himself in a Capacity -of returning it, however, he (like other Husbands) -thought it best to keep up his Resentments, and take -this Opportunity of Quelling all the <i>Woman</i> in her -Soul, and humbling all the little Remains of Pride -that Love had left her. Madam, (resum’d he) with -an Accent, which tho’ something more softned, was -still imperious enough, if you have any Thing of -Consequence to impart to me, I desire you will be -as brief as you can, for I would be left to the Freedom<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> -of my Thoughts---<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> cou’d not yet -answer, but letting fall a Shower of Tears, and throwing -her self on the Ground, Embrac’d his Knees with -so Passionate a Tenderness, as sufficiently exprest her -Repentance for having been guilty of any thing to disoblige -him: <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was most sensibly touch’d -at this Behaviour, so vastly different from what he -cou’d have expected from the greatness of her Spirit, -and raising her with an obliging Air. I am sorry -(said he) that any thing should happen to occasion -this Submission, but since what’s past, is out of either -of our Powers to recall: I shall endeavour to think -of it no more, provided you’ll promise me, never for -the future to be guilty of any thing which may give -me an uneasiness by the sight of yours----’Tis impossible -to represent the Transport of <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> at -this kind Expression, she hung upon his Neck, kissed -the dear Mouth which had pronounc’d her Pardon, -with Raptures of unspeakable Delight, she sigh’d -with Pleasure, as before she had done with Pain, she -wept, she even dy’d with Joy!----No, no, my -Lord, my Life, my Angel, (cry’d she, as soon as she -had Power to speak) I never will Offend you more, -no more be Jealous, no more be doubtful of my Happiness! -You are!--you will be only mine, I know you -will----Your kind Forgiveness of my Folly, assures -me that you are mine, not more by Duty than by -Love! A Tye far more valuable than that of Marriage. -The <i>Count</i> conscious of her Mistake, had much ado -to conceal his Disorder at these Words, and being unwilling -she should proceed; as soon as he could (without -seeming unkind or rude) disingag’d himself from -her Arms, and took a Pen in his Hand, which he told -her he was about to employ in answering the <i>Chevalier</i> -<span class="smcap">Brillian’s</span> Letter; <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> who now -resolv’d an entire Obedience to his Will, and remembring -he had desired to be alone, withdrew, full of the Idea -of an imagin’d Felicity----Her Heart was now at -ease, she believ’d, that if her Husband had any Remains -of Passion for <span class="smcap">Amena</span>, the impossibility of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> -ever seeing her again, would soon extinguish them, -and since she was so happily reconcil’d, was far from -repenting her intercepting of his Letter: But poor -Lady, she did not long enjoy this Peace of Mind, and -this Interval of Tranquility serv’d but to heighten her -ensuing Miseries.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count’s</i> secret Passion for <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> grew -stronger by his endeavouring to suppress it, and perceiving -that she carefully avoided all Opportunities of being -alone with him one Moment, since his Behaviour to -her in the Garden, he grew almost Distracted with -the continual Restraint he was forc’d to put on all his -Words and Actions: He durst not Sigh nor send an -amorous Glance, for fear of offending her, and alarming -his Wive’s Jealousy, so lately lull’d to Sleep: He -had no Person in whom he had Confidence enough -to trust with his Misfortune, and had certainly sunk -under the Pressure of it, if <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, who observing -an Alteration in his Countenance and Humour, fearing -he was really indispos’d (which was the excuse -he made for his Melancholly) had not perswaded him -to go into the Country, hoping that change of Air -might do him good: He had a very fine Seat near <i>Anjerville</i> -in the Province of <i>Le Beausse</i>, which he had -not been at for some Years, and he was very willing -to comply with <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> Desires of passing the -remainder of the Summer in a Solitude, which was -now become agreeable to him; the greatest Difficulty -was, in perswading <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> to accompany them -thither; he guess’d by her reserv’d Behaviour, that she -only waited an Opportunity to leave the Place where -he was, and was not mistaken in his Conjecture: -One Day as they were talking of it, she told them -she was resolv’d to return to the Monastery where -she had been Educated, that the World was too noisy -a Place for one of her Taste, who had no relish for -any of the Diversions of it: Every Word she spoke, -was like a Dagger to <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Heart; yet, he -so artfully manag’d his Endeavours, between the Authority<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> -of a Guardian, and the Entreaties of a Friend, -that she was at last overcome. ’Tis hard for the severest -Virtue to deny themselves the Sight of the Person -belov’d, and whatever Resolutions we make, there -are but few, who like <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> might not by -such a Lover be prevail’d upon to break them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> soon as their coming into the Country was -spread abroad, they were visited by all the Neighbouring -People of Quality, but there was none so welcome -to <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> as the <i>Baron</i> <span class="smcap">D’espernay</span>; they -had before the <span class="smcap">Count’s</span> going into the Army been -very intimate Acquaintance, and were equally glad of -this opportunity to renew a Friendship, which Time -and Absence had not entirely erac’d. The <i>Baron</i> had -a Sister young, and very agreeable, but gay even to -Coquetry; they liv’d together, being both single, and -he brought her with him, hearing the <i>Count</i> was Married, -to visit his Lady: There were several other young -Noble Men and Ladies there, at the same time, and -the Conversation grew so delightfully Entertaining, that -it was impossible for Persons less prepossest than the -<span class="smcap">Count</span> and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, to retain their <i>Chagrin</i>; -but, tho’ there were scarce any in the Company that -might not have list’ned with a pleas’d Attention, to -what those two admirable Persons were capable of -saying, yet their secret Sorrows kept them both in silence, -’till <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, for that was the Name of -the <i>Barons</i> Sister, took upon her to divert the Company -with some Verses on Love; which she took out of her -Pocket-Book and read to ’em: Every Body extoll’d the -softness of the Stile, and the Subject they were upon. -But <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> who was willing to take all opportunities -of Condemning that Passion, as well to conceal -it in her self as to check what ever hopes the <i>Count</i> might -have, now discovered the force of her Reason, the Delicacy -of her Wit, and the Penetration of her Judgment, -in a manner so sweetly surprizing to all that were Strangers -to her, that they presently found, that it was not -want of Noble, and truly agreeable Thoughts or Words<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> -to express ’em, that had so long depriv’d them of the -Pleasure of hearing her; she urg’d the Arguments she -brought against the giving way to Love, and the Danger -of all softning Amusements, with such a becoming -fierceness, as made every Body of the Opinion that -she was born only to create Desire, not be susceptible -of it her self. The <i>Count</i> as he was most Concern’d, -took the most particular Notice of all she said, and was -not a little alarm’d to see her appear so much in earnest, -but durst not answer, or Endeavour to confute -her, because of <span class="smcap">Alovysa’s</span> presence: But it was not -long before he had an opportunity, a few Days after -he met with one, as full as he cou’d wish. Returning -one Evening from the <i>Baron</i> <span class="smcap">D’espernay’s</span>, whom -he had now made the Confident of his Passion, and -who had Encourag’d him in it, he was told that <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> -was gone out to take the Air, and hearing -no mention of <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> being with her, he -stay’d not to enquire, but running directly to her -Chamber, made his Eyes his best Informers: He found -her lying on a Couch in a most charming Dissabillee, -she had but newly come from Bathing, and her Hair -unbraided, hung down upon her Shoulders with a negligence -more Beautiful than all the Aids of Art cou’d -form in the most exact <i>Decorum</i> of Dress; part of it -fell upon her Neck and Breast, and with it’s Lovely -Shadiness, being of a Delicate dark Brown, set off to -vast Advantage, the matchless whiteness of her Skin: -Her Gown and the rest of her Garments were white, -and all ungirt, and loosely flowing, discover’d a Thousand -Beauties, which Modish Formalities conceal. A -Book lay open by her, on which she had reclin’d her -Head, as if been tir’d with Reading, she Blush’d at -sight of the <i>Count</i>, and rose from off the Couch with -a Confusion which gave new Lustre to her Charms, -but he not permitting her to stir from the place she -was in, sat down by Her, and casting his Eyes on the -Book which lay there, found it to be <i>Ovid’s-Epistles</i>, -How Madam (cry’d he, not a little pleas’d with the -Discovery) dare you, who the other Day so warmly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span> -inveigh’d against Writings of this Nature, trust your -self with so Dangerous an Amusement? How happens -it, that you are so suddenly come over to our -Party? Indeed my Lord (answer’d she, growing more -disorder’d) it was Chance rather than Choice, that -directed this Book to my Hands, I am yet far from -approving Subjects of this Kind, and believe I shall -be ever so: Not that I can perceive any Danger in it, -as to my self, the Retirement I have always liv’d in, -and the little Propensity I find to entertain a Thought -of that uneasie Passion, has hitherto secur’d me from -any Prepossession, without which, <i>Ovid</i>’s Art is Vain. -Nay, Madam, reply’d the <i>Count</i>, now you Contradict -your former Argument, which was, that these -sort of Books were, as it were, Preparatives to Love, -and by their softning Influence, melted the Soul, and -made it fit for amorous Impressions, and so far, you -certainly were in the right, for when once the Fancy -is fixed on a real Object, there will be no need of -Auxillary Forces, the Dear Idea will spread it self thro’ -every Faculty of the Soul, and in a Moment inform -us better, than all the Writings of the most Experienc’d -Poets, cou’d do in an Age. Well, my Lord, -(said she endeavouring to Compose her self) I am utterly -unambitious of any Learning this way, and shall -endeavour to retain in Memory, more of the Misfortunes -that attended the Passion of <i>Sappho</i>, than the -Tender, tho’ never so Elegant Expressions it produc’d: -And if all Readers of Romances took this Method, the -Votaries of <i>Cupid</i> wou’d be fewer, and the Dominion -of Reason more Extensive. You speak (Answer’d -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>) as tho’ Love and Reason were Incompatible, -there is no Rule (said she) my Lord, without -Exception, they are indeed sometimes united, but how -often they are at Variance, where may we not find -Proofs, History is full of them, and daily Examples -of the many Hair-brain’d Matches, and slips, much -less excusable, sufficiently evince how little Reason -has to do in the Affairs of Love, I mean (continu’d -she, with a very serious Air) that sort of Love, for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> -there are two, which hurries People on to an immediate -Gratification of their Desires, tho’ never so prejudicial -to themselves, or the Person they pretend to -Love. Pray Madam (said the <i>Count</i> a little nettled at -this Discourse) what Love is that which seems at least -to Merit the Approbation of a Lady so extreamly nice? -It has many Branches (reply’d she) in the first Place -that which we owe to Heaven, in the next to our King, -our Country, Parents, Kindred, Friends, and Lastly, -that which Fancy inclines, and Reason guides us to, -in a Partner for Life, but here every Circumstance must -agree, Parity of Age, of Quality, of Fortune, and of -Humour, Consent of Friends, and Equal Affection in -each other, for if any one of these particulars fail, it -renders all the rest of no Effect. Ah, Madam (cry’d -the <i>Count</i> not able to suffer her to proceed). What -share of Pity then can you afford to a Man who, loves -where almost all these Circumstances are wanting, and -what Advice wou’d you give a wretch so Curst? I -wou’d have him <i>think</i>, (said she more Gravely than -before) How Madam, (resum’d he) think did you -say? Alas! ’Tis Thought that has undone him, that’s -very possible (answer’d she) but yet ’tis want of thinking -justly, for in a Lovers Mind Illusions seem Realities, -and what at an other time wou’d be look’d on as -Impossible, appears easie then: They indulge, and feed -their new-born Folly with a prospect of a Hope, tho’ -ne’re so distant a one, and in the vain pursuit of it, fly -Consideration, ’till dispair starts up in the midway, and -bar’s their promis’d View; whereas if they gave way -to due Reflection, the Vanity of the Attempt wou’d -presently be shown, and the same cause that bid ’em cease -to hope, wou’d bid ’em cease to wish: Ah Madam -(said he) how little do you know of that Passion, and -how easily cou’d I disprove you by the Example of my -Friend; despair and Love are of an equal Age in him, -and from the first Moment he beheld his Adorable -Charmer, he has Languished without the least mixture of -a flattering Hope. I Grant the Flames with which our -Modern Gallants are ordinarily animated, cannot long<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span> -subsist without Fewel, but where Love is kindled in a -Generous Heart by a just Admiration of the real Merits -of the Object belov’d, Reason goes Hand in Hand -with it, and makes it lasting as our Life. In my Mind -(answer’d <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> Coldly) an Esteem so Grounded -may more properly be ascribed to Friendship, then -be it so Madam, (rejoyn’d the <i>Count</i> briskly) Friendship -and Love, where either are sincere, vary but little -in their meaning, there may indeed be some Distinctions -in their Ceremonies, but their Essentials are still -the same: And if the Gentleman I speak of were so -happy as to hope his Friendship wou’d be acceptable, -I dare promise that he never wou’d complain his Love -were not so. You have a strange way (said she) to -Confound Idea’s, which in my Opinion are so vastly -different, that I shou’d make no Difficulty in granting -my Friendship to as many of my Acquaintance, -as had Merit to deserve it; but if I were to Love in -that general Manner, ’twould be a Crime wou’d justly -render me Contemptible to Mankind: Madam (replyed -the <i>Count</i>) when I spoke of the Congruity of -Love and Friendship, I did not mean that sort, which -to me, seems unworthy of the Name of either, but -that Exalted one, which made <i>Orestes</i> and <i>Pilades</i>, <i>Theseus</i> -and <i>Perithous</i> so Famous. That, which has no -Reserve, no separate Interest, or divided Thoughts, -That which fills all,----gives all the Soul, and esteems -even Life a Trifle, to prove it self sincere----What -can Love do more than yield every thing to the object -Belov’d? And Friendship must do so too, or it is not -Friendship! Therefore take heed fair Angel (continu’d -he, taking her Hand, and kissing it) how you -Promise Friendship, where you ne’re mean to Love: -And observing she was Silent, your Hand, (said he) -your Lip, your Neck, your Breast, your All.----All -this whole Heaven of Beauty must be no longer in -your own Disposal----All is the Prize of Friendship! -As much Confus’d as <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> was, at these -Words, which gave her sufficient Reason to fear he -wou’d now declare himself more fully than she desir’d;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> -she had Spirit and Resolution enough to withdraw her -Hand from his, and with a look, that spoke her Meaning -but too plainly for the repose of the Enamour’d -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>: I shall take care my Lord (said she) how -I Commence a Friendship with any Person who shall -make use of it to my Prejudice.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> was now sensible of his Error in going -so far, and fearing he had undone himself in her Esteem -by his rash Proceeding, thought it was best at once to -throw off a Disguise which, in spight of his Endeavours -wou’d fall off, of itself, and by making a bold -and free Confession of his real Sentiments, oblige her -to a Discovery of hers.----I do not doubt your Caution, -Madam, (answer’d he) in this point: Your Reserved -Behaviour, even to me, convinces me, but -too fully, how little you are disposed to give, or receive -any Proofs of Friendship: But perhaps (continu’d -he, with a deep sigh) my too presuming Eyes -have rendred me a suspected Person, and while you -find in me the Wretch I have discrib’d, you find -nothing in me worthy of a happier Fortune; you -are worthy every thing my Lord, (said <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -quite beside her self at these Words) nor are you less -happy than you deserve to be, and I wou’d rather -that these Eyes shou’d loose their sight than view you -otherwise than now I see you, blest in every Circumstance, -the Darling of the World, the Idol of the -Court, and Favourite of Heaven! Oh stop! (Cry’d -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> hastily Interrupting her) forbear to Curse -me farther, rather Command my Death, than wish -the Continuance of my present Miseries. Cruel <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -too well, alas, you know what I have endur’d -from the first fatal Moment I beheld you, and -only feign an Ignorance to distract me more: A Thousand -times you have read my Rising wishes, sparkling -in my Eyes, and glowing on my Cheeks, as often seen -my Virtue struggling in silent Tremblings, and Life-wasting -Anguish to suppress desire. Nay, Madam -(said he Catching fast hold of both her Hands, seeing -her about to rise) by all my sleepless Nights, and restless<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span> -Days, by all my countless burning Agonies; by all the -Torments of my gall’d, bleeding Heart, I swear, that -you shall hear me: I have heard too much (cry’d -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> not able to contain her self) and tho’ -I am unwilling to believe you have any farther aim -in this Discourse than your Diversion, yet I must tell -your Lordship, that there are Themes more proper for -it, than the Daughter of your Friend, who was entrusted -to your Care with a far different Opinion of -your Behaviour to her. What have I done (resum’d -the almost the Distracted <i>Count</i>, falling at her Feet, -and grasping her Knees) what have I done, Inhuman -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>! To deserve this Rigour? My Honour -has hitherto prevail’d above desire, fierce, and raging -as it is, nor had I any other hopes by making this Declaration, -than to meet that pity my Misfortunes merit; -and you cannot without Ingratitude deny: Pity, -even to Criminals is allow’d, and sure, where the offence -is unvoluntary, like mine, ’tis due: ’Tis impossible to -guess the Conflict in <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Breast at this -Instant, she had heard a most Passionate Declaration -of Love from a married Man, and by Consequence, -whatever his Pretences were, cou’d look on his Designs -no otherwise than aim’d at the Destruction of -her Honour, and was fir’d with a virtuous Indignation. -But then she saw in this married Man, the only Person -in the World, who was capable of Inspiring her with -a tender Thought, she saw him reduc’d to the last Extremity -of Despair for her sake: She heard his sighs, she -felt his Tremblings as he held her, and cou’d not refrain -shedding some Tears, both for him, and for her -self, who indeed suffer’d little less; but the <i>Count</i> was -not so happy as to be Witness of this Testimony of -her Compassion: He had reclin’d his Head on her Lap, -possibly to hide those that forc’d their way thro’ his -Eyes, at the same time; and <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> Voice -which they heard below, giving them both an Alarm; -they had no further opportunity for Speech, and the -<i>Count</i> was but just gone out of the Room, and <span class="smcap">Melliora<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span></span> -laid on the Couch in the same careless Possture -which he had found her in; when <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -enter’d the Chamber, and after having a little pleasantly -Reproach’d her, for being so lazy as not to accompany -her in the Walk she had been taking, ask’d her -if she had not seen the <i>Count</i>, who she had been told -was come home: Poor <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had much ado -to conceal the Disorder she was in at this Question, but -recovering her self as well as she could, answer’d in -the Affirmative; but that he had not staid there longer -than to enquire where she was gone, and that she -knew not but he might be gone in search of her: -This was enough to make <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> take her leave, -impatient for the Sight of her dear Lord, a Happiness -she had not enjoy’d since Morning, but she was disappointed -of her Hope. The <i>Count</i>, as late as it was -in the Evening, went into his Chaise, which had not -been set up since he came from the <i>Baron</i> <span class="smcap">D’espernay’s</span> -and drove thither again with all the Speed -he could.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Baron</i> was extreamly surpriz’d at his sudden -Return, and with so much Confusion and Melancholy -in his Countenance. But much more so, when he -had given him an Account of what had pass’d between -him and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> and cou’d not forbear rallying -him excessively on the Occasion. What, said he, a -Man of Wit, and Pleasure like <i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -a Man, who knows the Sex so well, could he let slip -so favourable an Opportunity with the finest Woman -in the World; One, for whose Enjoyment he wou’d -Die.----Cou’d a Frown, or a little angry Coyness, -(which ten to one was but affected) have Power to -freeze such fierce Desires. The <i>Count</i> was not at present -in a Humour to relish this Merriment, he was -too seriously in Love to bear that any thing relating -to it, should be turn’d into Ridicule, and was far from -repenting he had done no more, since what he had -done, had occasion’d her Displeasure: But the <i>Baron</i>, -who had Designs in his Head, which he knew cou’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span> -not by any means be brought to succeed, but by -keeping the <i>Count’s</i> Passion warm, made Use of all -the Artifice he was Master of, to embolden this respective -Lover, to the Gratification of his Wishes: -And growing more grave than he had been, My Lord, -said he, you do not only injure the Dignity of our -Sex in general, but your own Merits in particular, and -perhaps even <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> secret Inclinations, by -this unavailing distant Carriage: and causeless Despair.----Have -you not confess’d that she has look’d on you -with a Tenderness, like that of Love, that she has -blush’d at your Sight, and trembled at your Touch?----What -would you more that she should do, or what -indeed, can she do more, in Modesty, to prove her -Heart is yours? A little Resolution on your side would -make her all yours----Women are taught by Custom -to deny what most they covet, and to seem Angry, -when they are best Pleas’d; believe me, <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -that the most rigid Virtue of ’em all, never yet hated -a Man for those Faults, which Love occasions: All -this answer’d the <i>Count</i>, is what I readily agree to:---But -O her Father’s Memory! My Obligation to him! -Her Youth and Innocence are Daggers to my cool -Reflections---Wou’d it not be Pity (<i>D’espernay!</i> continued -he with a deep Sigh) even if she shou’d consent, -to ruin so much Sweetness? The <i>Baron</i> could -not forbear laughing at these Words, and the <i>Count</i> -who had started these Objections, only with the -Hope of having them remov’d, easily suffer’d himself -to be perswaded to follow his Inclinations; and it was -soon concluded betwixt them, that on the first Opportunity, -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> should fall a Sacrifice to -Love.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> came not Home ’till the next Morning, -and brought the <i>Baron</i> with him, for they were now -become inseparable Friends: At his return, he found -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> in a very ill Humour for his being abroad -all Night, and in spite of the Resolution she had made -of shewing a perfect Resignation to her Husband’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> -Will, could not forbear giving him some Hints, how -unkindly she took it, which he but little regarded, -all his Thoughts were now bent on the gaining -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>. But that Lady alarm’d at his late Behaviour, -and with Reason, doubting her own Power -of resenting it as she ought, or indeed resisting any -future Attempts he might make, feign’d the necessity -of performing some private Rules of Devotion, enjoyn’d -her as a Pennance, and kept her Chamber that -she might not see him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Disquietudes of <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> for being forc’d -to live, but for three or four Days without the happiness -of beholding her, convinc’d him how impossible -it was for him to overcome his Passion, tho’ he -should never so vigorously endeavour it, and that -whatever Method he shou’d make use of to satisfy -it, might be excus’d by the Necessity.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">What</span> is it that a Lover cannot accomplish when Resolution -is on his Side? <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> after having formed -a Thousand fruitless Inventions, at last pitch’d on One, -which promis’d him an assurance of Success: In <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> -Chamber there was a little Door that open’d -to a Pair of Back Stairs, for the Convenience of the -Servants coming to clean the Room, and at the Bottom -of that Descent, a Gate into the Garden. The -<i>Count</i> set his Wits to work, to get the Keys of those -two Doors; that of the Garden stood always in it, -nor cou’d he keep it without its being miss’d at Night, -when they shou’d come to fasten the Gate, therefore -he carefully took the Impression in Wax, and had -one made exactly like it: The other he cou’d by no -means compass without making some excuse to go to -<span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Chamber, and she had desired that -none might visit her: But he overcome this Bar to -his Design at last; there was a Cabinet in it, where -he told <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> he had put some Papers of great -Concern, which now he wanted to look over, and -desired she would make an Apology for his coming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> -in, to fetch them. <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> imagin’d this was -only a Pretence to see her, but his Wife being with -him, and he saying nothing to her, or taking any further -notice than what common Civility required, was -not much troubled at it. While <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was paying -a Complement to the Recluse, he was dext’rous -enough to slip the Key out of the Door, unperceiv’d -by either of them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> soon as he had got the Passport to his expected -Joys in his Possession, he order’d a couple of Saddle -Horses to be made ready, and only attended by one -Servant, rid out, as if to take the Air; but when they -were got about two or three Miles from his House, -Commanded him to return and tell his Lady, that he -should lye that Night at the <i>Baron</i> <span class="smcap">D’espernay’s</span>, -the Fellow obey’d, and clapping Spurs to his Horse, -was immediately lost in a Cloud of Dust.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> had sent this Message to prevent any -of the Family sitting up expecting him, and instead -of going to the <i>Barons</i>, turn’d short, and went to <i>Angerville</i>, -where meeting with some Gentlemen of his -Acquaintance, he pass’d the Hours ’till between -Twelve and One, as pleasantly as his Impatience to -be with <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> would give him leave: He -had not much above a Furlong to ride, and his Desires -made him not spare his Horse, which he ty’d by the -Bridle, hot and foaming as he was, to a huge Oak, -which grew pretty near his Garden; it was incompass’d -only with a Hedge, and that so low, that he -got over it without any Difficulty; he look’d carefully -about him, and found no Tell-tale Lights in any -of the Rooms, and concluding all was as hush’d as -he cou’d wish, open’d the first Door, but the encreasing -Transports of his Soul, as he came up Stairs, to -be so near the end of all his Wishes, are more easily -imagin’d than express’d; but as violent as they were, -they presently receiv’d a vast Addition, when he -came into the happy Chamber, and by a most delightfull<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> -Gloom, a Friend to Lovers, (for it was neither -Dark nor Light), he beheld the lovely <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -in her Bed, and fast asleep, her Head was reclin’d on -one of her Arms; a Pillow softer and whiter far than -that it lean’d on, the other was stretch’d out, and with -its extension had thrust down the Bed-cloths so far, -that all the Beauties of her Neck and Breast appear’d -to View. He took an inexpressible Pleasure in gazing -on her as she lay, and in this silent Contemplation of -her thousand Charms, his Mind was agitated with -various Emotions, and the resistless Posture he beheld -her in, rouz’d all that was honourable in him, he -thought it Pity even to wake her, but more to wrong -such Innocence; and he was sometimes prompted to -return and leave her as he found her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> whatever Dominion, Honour and Virtue -may have over our waking Thoughts, ’tis certain that -they fly from the clos’d Eyes, our Passions then exert -their forceful Power, and that which is most Predominant -in the Soul, agitates the Fancy, and brings -even Things impossible to pass: Desire, with watchful -Diligence repell’d, returns with greater Violence in -unguarded Sleep, and overthrows the vain Efforts of -Day. <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> in spite of her self, was often -happy in Idea, and possess’d a Blessing which Shame -and Guilt deter’d her from in reality. Imagination -at this Time was active, and brought the charming -Count much nearer than indeed he was, and he, -stooping to the Bed, and gently laying his Face close -to hers, (possibly designing no more than to steal a -Kiss from her, unperceiv’d) that Action concurring -at that Instant with her Dream, made her throw her -Arm (still slumbering) about his Neck, and in a soft -and languishing Voice, cry out, O! <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -cease, cease to Charm, to such a height----Life cannot -bear these Raptures!---And then again Embracing -him yet closer,---O! too, too lovely <i>Count</i>---Extatick -Ruiner!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Where</span> was now the Resolution he was forming -some Moments before? If he had now left her, -some might have applauded an Honour so uncommon, -but more wou’d have condemn’d his Stupidity, -for I believe there are very few Men, how Stoical soever -they pretend to be, that in such a tempting Circumstance -would not have lost all Thoughts, -but those, which the present Opportunity inspir’d. -That he did, is most certain, for he tore -open his Wastecoat, and joyn’d his panting Breast to -hers, with such a tumultuous Eagerness! Seiz’d her -with such a rapidity of transported Hope-crown’d -Passion, as immediately wak’d her from an imaginary -Felicity, to the Approaches of a solid one. Where -have I been (said she, just opening her Eyes) where -am I?---(And then coming more perfectly to her -self) Heaven! What’s this?--I am <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> (cry’d -the o’erjoy’d <i>Count</i>) the happy <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>! <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span>, -the charming <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>! -Oh, all ye Saints, (resum’d the surpriz’d, trembling -Fair) ye ministring Angels! Whose Business it is to -guard the Innocent! Protect and shield my Virtue! -O! say, how came you here, my Lord? Love, said -he, Love that does all, that Wonder-working Power -has sent me here, to charm thee, sweet Resister, into -yielding. O! hold, (cry’d she, finding he was proceeding -to Liberties, which her Modesty could not -allow of) forbear, I do conjure you, even by that -Love you plead, before my Honour I’ll resign my Life! -Therefore, unless you wish to see me dead, a Victim -to your cruel, fatal Passion, I beg you to desist, and -leave me:---I cannot---must not (answer’d he, growing -still more bold) what, when I have thee thus! -Thus naked in my Arms, trembling, defenceless, yielding, -panting with equal Wishes, thy Love confess’d, -and every Thought, Desire! What could’st thou think -if I should leave thee? How justly would’st thou scorn -my easy Tameness; my Dulness, unworthy the Name -of Lover, or even of Man!--Come, come, no more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span> -Reluctance (continued he, gathering Kisses from her -soft Snowy Breast at every Word) Damp not the Fires -thou hast rais’d with seeming Coyness! I know thou -art mine! All mine! And thus I--yet think (said she, -interrupting him, and struggling in his Arms) think -what ’tis that you wou’d do; nor, for a Moment’s -Joy, hazard your Peace for ever. By Heaven, cry’d -he, I will this Night be Master of my Wishes, no -matter what to Morrow may bring forth: As soon -as he had spoke these Words, he put it out of her -Power either to deny or reproach him, by stopping -her Mouth with Kisses, and was just on the Point of -making good what he had vow’d, when a loud -knocking at the Chamber Door, put a stop to his beginning -Extacy, and chang’d the sweet Confusion -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had been in, to all the Horrors, -of a Shame and Guilt-distracted Apprehension: -They made no Doubt but that it was <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -and that they were betray’d; the <i>Count’s</i> greatest Concern -was for <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, and the Knocking still -continuing louder, all he cou’d do in this Exigence, -was to make his Escape the Way he came: There -was no time for taking leave, and he could only say, -perceiving she was ready to faint with her Fears-----Be -comforted my Angel, and resolute in your Denials, -to whatever Questions the natural Insolence of a -Jealous Wife may provoke mine to ask you; and we -shall meet again (if <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> survives this Disappointment) -without Danger, of so quick, so curst a -Separation. <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> was in too much Distraction -to make any Answer to what he said, and he -had left the Room some Moments, before she cou’d -get Spirit enough to ask who was at the Door? But -when she did, was as much surpriz’d to find it was -<span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, who desir’d to be let in, as before -she was frighted at the Belief it was <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, however, -she immediately slipt on her Night-Gown and -Slippers, and open’d the Door.</p> - -<p>You are a sound Sleeper indeed (Cry’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> -laughing) that all the Noise I have made cou’d not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> -wake you. I have not been all this time asleep (answer’d -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>) but not knowing you were in -the House, cou’d not imagine who it was that gave -me this Disturbance. I heartily ask your Pardon (said -<span class="smcap">Melantha</span>) and I know, my Dear, you are too -good Natur’d to refuse it me, especially when you -know the Occasion, which is so very Whimsical, that -as grave as you are, you cannot help being diverted -with it----But come (continu’d she) get on your -Cloaths, for you must go along with me. Where, said -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, Nay, nay, ask no Questions (resum’d -<span class="smcap">Melantha</span>) but make haste, every Minute that we -Idle away here, loses us the Diversion of an Age. As -she spoke these Words, she fell into such an excessive -Laughter, that <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> thought her Mad, but -being far from Sympathizing in her Gaiety; it has always -(said she) been hitherto my Custom to have some -Reason for what I do, tho’ in never so trifling an Affair, -and you must excuse me, if I do not break it -now. Pish (cry’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>) you are of the oddest -Temper,----but I will give you your Way for -once,-----provided you’ll get your self ready in the -mean time. I shall certainly put on my Cloaths (said <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>) -lest I should take cold, for I expect you’ll not -permit me to sleep any more this Night. You may -be sure of it (rejoyn’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>.) But to the -Purpose,-----You must know, having an Hour or -two on my hands, I came this Evening to visit <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, -and found her in the strangest Humour!----Good -God! What unaccountable Creatures these married -Women are?----her Husband it seems had sent her -Word that he wou’d lye at my Brothers, and the poor -loving Soul cou’d not bear to live a Night without him. -I stay’d to condole with her, (tho’ on my Life, I cou’d -scarce forbear Laughing in her Face) ’till it was too -late to go Home.----About twelve a Clock she yawn’d, -stretch’d, and grew most horridly out of Temper; rail’d -at Mankind prodigiously, and curs’d Matrimony as -heartily as one of Fourscore cou’d do, that had been -twice a Widow, and was left a Maid!----With much<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> -ado, I made her Women thrust her into Bed, and retired -to a Chamber which they shew’d me, but I had -no Inclination to sleep, I remember’d my self of five -or six <i>Billet-Doux</i> I had to answer,----a Lover, that -growing foolishly troublesome, I have some thoughts -of discharging to Morrow----Another that I design -to Countenance, to pique a third----a new Suit of -Cloaths, and Trimmings for the next Ball----Half a -hundred new Songs---and---a thousand other Affairs -of the utmost Consequence to a young Lady, came into -my Head in a Moment; and the Night being extreamly -pleasant, I set the Candle in the Chimney, -open’d the Window, and fell to considering---But I -had not been able to come to a conclusion what I should -do in any one thing I was thinking of, before I was -interrupted in my Cogitations, with a noise of something -rushing hastily thro’ the Myrtles under my Window, -and presently after, saw it was a Man going hastily -along toward the great Alley of the Garden.----At -first I was going to cry out and Alarm the Family, -taking it for a Thief; But, Dear <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, how -glad am I that I did not?----For who do you -think, when I look’d more heedfully, I perceiv’d it -was? Nay, how should I know? (cry’d <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -peevishly, fearing the <i>Count’s</i> Inadvertency had expos’d -himself and her to this foolish Woman’s Curiosity) -It was <i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> (resum’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>) -I’ll lay my Life, that he has been on some Intreague -to Night: And met with a Disappointment in -it, by his quick Return.---But prithee make hast, for -I long to rally him about it. What wou’d you do Madam? -(said <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>) you wou’d not sure go to -him? Yes, (answer’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>): I will go down -into the Garden, and so shall you.---I know you have -a back Way from your Chamber---Therefore lay aside -this unbecoming Demureness, and let us go, and talk -him to Death. You may do as you please, (said <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>) -but for my part, I am for no such Frolicks. -Was ever any thing so young, so Formal as you are! -(Rejoyn’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>) but I am resolv’d to Teaze<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span> -you out of a humour so directly opposite to the <i>Beau-Monde</i>, -and, if you will not Consent to go down with -me: I will fetch him up to your Chamber----Hold! -Hold, (cry’d <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> perceiving she was going) -what do you mean, for Heavens sake stay, what will -<span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> think?---I care not, reply’d the other; -I have set my Heart on an hours Diversion with him -and will not be baulk’d, if the repose of the World, -much less, that of a Jealous, silly Wife, depended -on it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melliora</span> saw into the Temper of this Capricious -young Lady too well not to believe she wou’d do, -as she had said, and perhaps, was not over willing to venture -her with the <i>Count</i> alone, at that Time of Night, -and in the Humour she knew he was, therefore putting -on an Air more chearful than that she was Accustom’d -to wear, well (said she) I will Accompany -you into the Garden, since it will so much oblige you; -but if the <i>Count</i> be wise, he will, by quitting the -Place, as soon as he sees us, disappoint you worse than -I shou’d have done, if I had kept you here. With -these Words she took her by the Hand, and they went -down the Stairs, where the <i>Count</i> was but just past -before them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> had not Power to go away, without knowing -who it was, that had given him that Interruption, -and had stood all this Time, on the upper Step behind -the inner Door. His Vexation, and Disdain when he -heard it was <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> gave him as much Pain, -as his Concern while he believ’d it <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, and -he cou’d not forbear muttering a thousand Curses on -her Impertinence. He always despis’d, but now abhor’d -her: She had behav’d her self to him in a Fashion, -as made him sufficiently Sensible she was desirous of -engaging him, and he resolv’d to Mortifie by the bitterest -Slights, both her Pride, and Love, if ’tis proper, -to call that sort of liking which Agitates the Soul of -<i>Coquet</i>, by that Name.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Ladies walk’d in the Garden for some time, -and <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> search’d every Bush, before she -found the <i>Count</i> who stood Conceal’d in the Porch, -which being cover’d with <i>Jessamin</i>, and <i>Fillaree</i>, was -Dark enough to hide him from their View, tho’ they -had pass’d close to him as they came out. He had -certainly remain’d there ’till Morning, and disappointed -<span class="smcap">Melantha’s</span> search in part of the Revenge he -ow’d her, if his Desires to be with <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, on -any Terms, had not prevail’d, even above his Anger -to the other. But he cou’d not see that Charmer of -his Soul, and imagine there might be yet an opportunity -that Night of stealing a Kiss from her (now he -believ’d resistless Lips) of Touching her Hand! Her -Breast! And repeating some farther Freedoms which -his late Advantage over her had given him, without -being fill’d with Wishes too Fiery and too Impatient to -be restrain’d. He watch’d their turning, and when he -saw that they were near an Ally which had another -that led to it, he went round and met them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melantha</span> was overjoy’d at sight of him, and -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, tho’ equally pleas’d, was Cover’d with -such a Confusion, at the Remembrance of what had -pass’d, that it was happy for her that her Companion’s -Volubility gave her no room for Speech. There -is nothing more certain, than that Love, tho’ it fills the -mind with a thousand charming Ideas, which those -untouch’d by that Passion, are not capable of conceiving, -yet it entirely takes away the Power of Utterance, -and the deeper Impression it had made on -the Soul, the less we are able to express it, when -willing to indulge and give a loose to Thought; what -Language can furnish us with Words sufficient, all -are too poor, all wanting both in Sublimity, and -Softness, and only Fancy! A lovers Fancy! can reach -the Exalted soaring of a Lovers Meaning! But, if so -impossible to be Describ’d, if of so Vast, so Wonderful -a Nature as nothing but it’s self can Comprehend,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> -how much more impossible must it be, entirely -to conceal it! What Strength of boasted Reasons? -What Force of Resolution? What modest Fears, or -cunning Artifice can correct the Fierceness of its fiery -Flashes in the Eyes, keep down the struggling Sighs, -command the Pulse, and bid trembling cease? Honour -and Virtue may distance Bodies, but there is no Power -in either of those Names, to stop the Spring, that -with a rapid Whirl transports us from our selves, and -darts our Souls into the Bosom of the darling Object. -This may seem strange to many, even of those who -call, and perhaps believe that they are Lovers, but -the few who have Delicacy enough to feel what I but -imperfectly attempt to speak, will acknowledge it for -Truth, and pity the Distress of <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> they were passing thro’ a Walk of Trees on -each Side, whose intermingling Boughs made a friendly -Darkness, and every thing Undistinguishable, the -Amorous <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> throwing his eager Arms -round the Waist of his (no less transported) <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -and Printing burning Kisses on her Neck, reap’d -painful Pleasure, and created in her a racking kind of -Extasie, which might perhaps, had they been now -alone, prov’d her Desires were little different from -his.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">After Melantha</span> had vented part of the -Raillery, she was so big with, on the <i>Count</i>, which -he but little regarded, being wholly taken up with -other Thoughts, she propos’d, going into the Wilderness, -which was at the farther end of the Garden, -and they readily agreeing to it. Come, my Lord, -(said she) to the <i>Count</i>, you are Melancholly, I have -thought of a way which will either indulge the Humour -you are in, or divert it, as you shall chuse: -There are several little Paths in this Wilderness, let us -take each a separate one, and when we meet, which -shall be here, where we part, agree to tell an entertaining -Story, which, whoever fails in, shall be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span> -doom’d to the Punishment of being left here all Night: -The <i>Count</i> at these Words, forgot all his Animosity, -and was ready to hug her for this Proposal. <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -did a little oppose it; but the others were -too Powerful, and she was forc’d to submit: Thou -art the dullest Creature, I’ll lay my Life, (my Lord, -cry’d <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, taking hold of the Count in a -gay manner) that it falls to her Lot to stay in the Wilderness. -Oh Madam, (reply’d the <i>Count</i>) you are too severe, -we ought always to suspend our Judgment ’till -after the Tryal, which I confess my self so pleas’d -with, that I am Impatient for its coming on: Well -then, (said she, laughing) farewel for half an Hour. -Agreed (cry’d the <i>Count</i>) and walk’d away: <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> -saw which way he went, and took another -Path, leaving <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> to go forward in that, -in which they were, but I believe the Reader will -easily imagine that she was not long to enjoy the Priviledge -of her Meditations.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the <i>Count</i> had gone some few Paces, he -planted himself behind a Thicket, which, while it hid -him, gave the Opportunity of observing them, and -when he found the Coast clear, rush’d out, and with -unhurting Gripe, seiz’d once more on the unguarded -Prey. Blest turn of Fortune, (said he in a Rapture,) -Happy, happy Moment!---Lost, lost <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -(said she) most unhappy Maid!---Oh why, my -Lord, this quick Return? This is no Place to answer -thee, (resum’d he, taking her in his Arms, and bearing -her behind that Thicket, where he himself had -stood) ’twas in vain for her to resist, if she had had -the Power over her Inclinations, ’till he, sitting her -softly down, and beginning to Caress her in the manner -he had done when she was in Bed, she assum’d -Strength enough to raise her self a little, and catching -hold of his Transgressing Hands, laid her Face on -them, and Bath’d them in a shower of Tears: O! -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> (said she) Cruel <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>! Will you -then take Advantage of my Weakness? I confess I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span> -feel for you, a Passion, far beyond all, that yet, ever -bore the Name of Love, and that I can no longer -withstand the too powerful Magick of your Eyes, nor -deny any Thing that charming Tongue can ask; but -now’s the Time to prove your self the Heroe! subdue -your self, as you have Conquer’d me! be satisfied -with Vanquishing my Soul, fix there your Throne, but -leave my Honour free! Life of my Life (cry’d he) -wound me no more by such untimely Sorrows: I -cannot bear thy Tears, by Heaven they sink into my -Soul, and quite unman me, but tell me (continu’d he -tenderly Kissing her) coud’st thou, with all this Love, -this charming----something more than softness-----cou’dst -thou I say, consent to see me Pale and Dead, -stretch’d at thy Feet, consum’d with inward Burnings, -rather than blest, than rais’d by Love, and thee, to all -a Deity in thy Embraces? For O! Believe me when -I swear, that ’tis impossible to live without thee. No -more, no more (said she letting her Head fall gently on -his Breast) too easily I guess thy sufferings by my own. -But yet, <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> ’tis better to die in Innocence, -than to live in Guilt. O! Why (Resum’d he, sighing -as if his Heart wou’d burst) shou’d what we can’t -avoid, be call’d a Crime? Be Witness for me Heaven! -How much I have struggl’d with this rising Passion, -even to Madness struggl’d!---but in vain, the mounting -Flame blazes the more, the more I wou’d suppress -it---my very Soul’s on Fire---I cannot bear it---Oh -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>! Didst thou but know the thousandth -Part, of what this Moment I endure, the strong Convulsions -of my warring Thoughts, thy Heart steel’d as -it is, and Frosted round with Virtue, wou’d burst it’s -icy Shield, and melt in Tears of Blood, to pity me. Unkind -and Cruel! (answer’d she) do I not partake them -then?----Do I not bear, at least, an equal share in all -your Agonies? Have---you no Charms---or have not -I a Heart?---A most susceptible and tender Heart?----Yes, -you may feel it Throb, it beats against my Breast, -like an Imprison’d Bird, and fain wou’d burst it’s Cage! -to fly to you, the aim of all it’s Wishes!--Oh <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>!--With<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span> -these Words she sunk wholly into his Arms unable -to speak more: Nor was he less dissolv’d in Rapture, -both their Souls seem’d to take Wing together, -and left their Bodies Motionless, as unworthy to -bear a part in their more elevated Bliss.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> at his returning Sense, repenting -the Effects of the violent Transport, he had been -in was now, preparing to take from the resistless <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -the last, and only remaining Proof that she was -all his own, when <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> (who had contriv’d -this separation only with a Design to be alone with the -<i>Count</i>, and had carefully observ’d which way he took) -was coming towards them. The rustling of her Cloaths -among the Bushes, gave the disappointed Couple leave to -rise from the Posture they were in, and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -to abscond behind a Tree, before she could come near -enough to discern who was there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, as soon as she saw the <i>Count</i>, put -on an Air, of Surprize, as if it were but by Chance, -that she was come into his walk, and Laughing with a -visible Affectation, bless me! You here, my Lord! (said -she) I vow this has the look of Assignation, but I hope -you will not be so vain as to believe I came on purpose -to seek you. No Madam (answer’d he coldly) I have -not the least Thought of being so happy. Lord! -You are strangely grave (Rejoyn’d she) but suppose I -really had come with a Design to meet you, what kind -of Reception might I have expected? I know no Reason -Madam (said he) that can oblige me to entertain a -Supposition so unlikely. Well then (resum’d she) I’ll -put it past a Supposition, and tell you plainly, that I -did walk this way on purpose to divert your Spleen. -I am sorry (reply’d he, tir’d to Death with her Impertinence) -that you are disappointed; for I am not in -a Humour at present, of receiving any Diversion. Fie -(said she) is this an answer for the gay, Gallant, engaging -<i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, to give a Lady who makes -a Declaration of admiring him----who thinks it not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> -too much to make the first Advances, and who wou’d -believe her self fully recompenc’d for breaking thro’ the -nice Decorums of her Sex, if he receiv’d it kindly---Madam -(said he, not a little amaz’d at her Imprudence) -I know of no such Person, or if I did, I must confess, -shou’d be very much puzled how to behave in an Adventure -so uncommon: Pish (answer’d she, growing vext -at his coldness) I know that such Adventures are not -uncommon with you: I’m not to learn the Story of -<span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, and if you had not been first Address’d, -perhaps might have been ’till now unmarried. Well -Madam (said he, more out of humour) put the Case -that what you say were true, I am married; and therefore, -(interrupted she) you ought to be better acquainted -with the Temper of our Sex, and know, that a Woman, -where she says she Loves, expects a thousand fine -things in Return. But there is more than a possibility -(answer’d he) of her being disappointed, and methinks -Madam, a Lady of your Gaity shou’d be conversant -enough with Poetry, to remember those too Lines of a -famous English Poet.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>All naturally fly, what does Pursue</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Tis fit Men shou’d be Coy, when Women Woe.</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melantha</span> was fretted to the Heart to find him -so insensible, but not being one of those who are apt -to repent any thing they have done, she only pretended -to fall into a violent fit of Laughter, and when she -came out of it, I confess (said she) that I have lost my -Aim, which was, to make you believe I was dying -for Love of you, raise you to the highest Degree of -Expectation, and then have the pleasure of baulking -you at once, by letting you know the jest.----But -your Lordship is too hard for me, even at my own -Weapon, ridicule! I am mightly obliged to you Madam -(answer’d he, more briskly than before) for your -Intention, however; but ’tis probable, if I cou’d have -been drawn into a Belief that you were in earnest, I -might, at such a Time, and such a Place as this, have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span> -taken some Measures which wou’d have sufficiently -reveng’d me on you----but come Madam, (continu’d -he) the Morning begins to break, if you please we will -find out <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, and go into the House: As he -spoke these Words, they perceiv’d her coming towards -them, who had only taken a little round to meet ’em, -and they all three made what hast they cou’d in: <i>Count</i> -<span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> asked a formal leave of <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -to go thro’ her Chamber, none of the Servants being yet -stirring, to let him into the House any other way, -which being granted, he cou’d not help sighing as he -passed by the Bed, where he had been lately so cruelly -disappointed, but had no opportunity to speak his -Thoughts at that time to <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>.</p> - -<p>The <i>Count</i> rung for his Gentleman to rise to undress him, -and order’d him to send somebody to take -care of his Horse, and went to Bed, <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> was -very much surpriz’d at his return from the <i>Baron</i>’s at -so unseasonable an Hour, but much more so, when in -the Morning, <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> came laughing into the -Chamber, and told her, all that she knew of the Adventure -of the Night before; her old fit of Jealousie -now resum’d it’s Dominion in her Soul, she cou’d not -forbear thinking, that there was something more in -it, than <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> had discover’d: And presently -imagin’d that her Husband stay’d not at the <i>Baron</i>’s, -because she was abroad; but she was more confirm’d -in this Opinion, when <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> calling for her -Coach to go home; the <i>Count</i> told her that he wou’d -accompany her thither, having urgent Business with -her Brother. ’Tis almost impossible to guess the rage -<span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> was in, but she dissembled it ’till they were -gone, then going to <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>’s Chamber, she -vented part of it there, and began to question her -about their Behaviour in the Wilderness. Tho’ <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -was glad to find, since she was jealous, that -she was jealous of any Body rather than her self, yet -she said all that she cou’d, to perswade her, that she had -no Reason to be uneasie.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> was always of too fiery a Nature -to listen patiently to any thing that cou’d be offer’d, to -alter the Opinion she had taken up, tho’ it were with -never so little an appearance of Reason, but much -more now, when she thought her self, in a manner -Confirm’d: Forbear (said she) Dear <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> to -take the part of perfidy: I know he hates me, I read -it in his Eyes, and feel it on his Lips, all Day he -shuns my Converse, and at night, colder than Ice, receives -my warm Embraces, and when, (oh that I -cou’d tear the tender folly from me Heart) with Words -as soft as Love can Form, I urge him to disclose the -Cause of his Disquiet, he answers but in sighs, and -turns away: Perhaps (reply’d <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>) his Temper -naturally is gloomy, and love it self, has scarce the -Power to alter Nature. Oh no, (Interrupted <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>) -far from it: Had I ne’er known him otherwise, -I cou’d forgive what now I know, but he was once -as kind as tender Mothers to their new born Babes, and -fond as the first Wishes of desiring Youth: Oh! With -what eagerness has he approach’d me, when absent -but an Hour!---Hadst thou ’ere seen him in those -Days of Joy, even, thou, cold Cloyster’d Maid, must -have ador’d him What Majesty, then sat upon his -Brow?-----What Matchless Glories shone around -him!----Miriads of <i>Cupids</i>, shot resistless Darts in -every Glance,---his Voice when softned in amorous -Accents, boasted more Musick, than the Poet <i>Orpheus!</i> -When e’re he spoke, methought the Air seem’d -Charm’d, the Winds forgot to blow, all Nature listn’d, -and like <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> melted into Transport----but -he is chang’d in all----the Heroe, and the Lover are -Extinct, and all that’s left, of the once gay <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -is a dull senceless Picture: <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> was too sensibly -Touch’d with this Discourse, to be able presently -to make any Answer to it, and she cou’d not forbear -accompanying her in Tears, while <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> renew’d -her Complaints in this manner; his Heart (said -she) his Heart is lost, for ever Ravish’d from me, that Bosom -where I had Treasur’d all my Joys, my Hopes, my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span> -Wishes, now burns and pants, with longings for a -rival Curst! Curst, <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, by Heaven they -are even impudent in Guilt, they Toy, they Kiss, -and make Assignations before my Face, and this Tyrant -Husband braves me with his falsehood, and thinks -to awe me into Calmness, but, if I endure it---No -(continu’d she stamping, and walking about the Room -in a disorder’d Motion) I’ll be no longer the tame easie -wretch I have been---all <i>France</i> shall Eccho with my -Wrongs---The ungrateful Monster!---Villain, whose -well nigh wasted Stream of Wealth had dry’d, but for my -kind of supply, shall he enslave me!--Oh <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -shun the Marriage Bed, as thou woud’st a Serpents Den, -more Ruinous, more Poysonous far, is Man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">’Twas</span> in vain that <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> endeavour’d to -pacifie her, she continu’d in this Humour all Day, and -in the Evening receiv’d a considerable Addition to her -former Disquiet: The <i>Count</i> sent a Servant of the <i>Barons</i> -(having not taken any of his own with him) to -acquaint her, that he shou’d not be at home that Night. -’Tis well (said she ready to burst with Rage) let the -<i>Count</i> know that I can change as well as he, and shall -excuse his Absence tho’ it lasts to all Eternity, (go continu’d -she, seeing him surpriz’d) deliver this Message, -and withal, assure him, that what I say, I mean. She -had scarce made an end of these Words, when she flung -out of the Room, unable to utter more, and lock’d -her self into her Chamber, leaving <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> no less -distracted, tho’ for different Reasons, to retire to her’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">She</span> had not ’till now, had a moments Time for -reflection since her Adventure in the Wilderness, and -the Remembrance of it, joyn’d with the Despair, and -Grief of <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, which she knew her self -the sole occasion of, threw her into most terrible -Agonies. She was ready to die with shame, when -she consider’d how much the secret of her Soul was -laid open to him, who of all the World she ought -most to have conceal’d it from, and with remorse, for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span> -the Miseries her fatal Beauty was like to bring on a Family -for whom she had the greatest Friendship.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> these Thoughts soon gave way to another, -equally as shocking, she was present when the Servant -brought Word the <i>Count</i> wou’d lie abroad, and had all -the Reason imaginable to believe that Message was only -a feint, that he might have an opportunity to come -unobserv’d to her Chamber, as he had done the Night -before. She cou’d not presently guess by what means -he had got in, and therefore was at a loss how to prevent -him, ’till recollecting all the Circumstances of that -tender interview, she remembred that when <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> -had surpriz’d them, he made his escape by the back Stairs -into the Garden, and that when they went down, the -Door was lock’d: Therefore concluded it must be by a -Key, that he had gain’d admittance: And began to -set her Invention to Work, how to keep this dangerous -Enemy to her Honour, from coming in a second -Time. She had no Keys that were large enough to -fill the Wards, and if she had put one in, on the inside, -it wou’d have fallen out immediately on the least touch, -but at last, after trying several ways, she tore her -Handkerchief into small pieces, and thrust it into the -hole with her Busk, so hard, that it was impossible -for any Key to enter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melliora</span> thought she had done a very Heroick -Action, and sate her self down on the Bed-side in a -pleas’d Contemplation of the Conquest, she believ’d -her Virtue had gain’d over her Passion: But alas, How -little did she know the true State of her own Heart? -She no sooner heard a little noise at the Door, as presently -after she did, but she thought it was the <i>Count</i>, and -began to tremble not with fear, but desire.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was indeed <i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, who had borrow’d -Horses and a Servant of the <i>Baron</i>, and got into -the Garden as before, but with a much greater -Assurance now of making himself entirely happy in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span> -the Gratification of his utmost Wishes. But ’tis impossible -to represent the greatness of his vexation and -surprize, when all his Efforts to open the Door, were -in vain: He found something had been done to the -Lock, but cou’d not discover what, nor by any means -remove the obstacle which <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had put there. -She, on the other hand, was in all the confusion imaginable: -Sometimes prompted by the violence of her -Passion, she wou’d run to the Door, resolving to open it; -and then, frighted with the apprehension of what wou’d -be the Consequence, as hastily fly from it: If he had -stay’d much longer, ’tis possible love wou’d have got -the better of all other Considerations, but a light appearing -on the other side of the Garden, oblig’d the -thrice disappointed Lover, to quit his Post. He had -sent away the Horses by the Servant who came with -him, and had no opportunity of going to the <i>Barons</i> -that Night, so came to his own Fore-gate, and thunder’d -with a force, suitable to the fury he was possest -with; it was presently open’d, most of the Family -being up. <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had rav’d her self into Fits, -and her disorder created full Employment for the Servants, -who busily running about the House with Candles -fetching things for her, occasion’d that reflection -which he had seen.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> was told of his Lady’s Indisposition, -but he thought he had sufficient pretence not to come -where she was, after the Message she had sent him by -the <i>Baron</i>’s Servant, and order’d a Bed to be made -ready for him in another Chamber.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> soon heard he was come in, and it was -with much ado, that her Women prevail’d on her not -to rise and go to him that moment, so little did she -remember what she had said. She pass’d the Night -in most terrible Inquietudes, and early in the Morning -went to his Chamber, but finding it shut, she was -oblig’d to wait, tho’ with a World of impatience, ’till -she heard he was stirring, which not being till towards<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> -Noon, she spent all that Time in considering how she -shou’d accost him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> soon as the Servant whom she had order’d to -watch, brought her Word that his Lord was dressing, -she went into the Room, there was no body with him -but his Gentleman, and he withdrawing out of respect, -imagining by both their Countenances, there might -something be said, not proper for him to hear. I see -(said she) my Presence is unwish’d, but I have learn’d -from you to scorn Constraint, and as you openly avow -your falshood, I shall my Indignation, and my just -Disdain! Madam (answer’d he suddenly) if you have -any thing to reproach me with, you cou’d not have -chose a more unlucky Time for it, than this, nor was -I ever less dispos’d to give you Satisfaction. No, -barbarous cold Insulter! (resum’d she) I had not the -least hope you wou’d, I find that I am grown so low -in your Esteem, I am not worth pains of an Invention.----By -Heaven, this damn’d indifference is worse than -the most vile Abuse!---’Tis plain Contempt!----O -that I cou’d resent it as I ought----then Sword, or -Poison shou’d revenge me---why am I so Curst to -Love you still?---O that those Fiends (continu’d she, -bursting into Tears) that have deform’d thy Soul, -wou’d change thy Person too, turn every Charm to -horrid Blackness, grim as thy Cruelty, and foul as thy -Ingratitude, to free that Heart, thy Perjury has ruin’d. -I thought Madam (said he, with an Accent maliciously -Ironical) that you had thrown off, even the -appearances of Love for me, by the Message you sent -me Yesterday---O thou Tormenter (interrupted she) -hast thou not wrong’d me in the tenderest Point, driven -me to the last Degree of Misery! To Madness!---To -Despair? And dost thou----can’st thou Reproach -me for complaining?---Your coldness; your unkindness -stung me to the Soul, and then I said, I know -not what---but I remember well, that I wou’d have -seem’d careless, and indifferent like you. You need -not (reply’d he) give your self the trouble of an Apology,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span> -I have no design to make a quarrel of it: And -wish, for both our Peace, you cou’d as easily moderate -your Passions, as I can mine, and that you may the -better do so, I leave you to reflect on what I have -said, and the little Reason I have ever given you for -such intemperance. He left the Chamber with these -Words, which instead of quelling, more enflam’d <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>’s -Rage. She threw her self down into an -Elbow Chair that stood there, and gave a loose to the -Tempest of her Soul, Sometimes she curst, and vow’d -the bitterest Revenge: Sometimes she wept, and at -others, was resolv’d to fly to Death, the only Remedy -for neglected Love: In the midst of these confus’d -Meditations, casting her Eye on a Table by her, -she saw Paper, and something written on it, which -hastily taking up, found it the <i>Count</i>’s Character, and -read (to her inexpressible Torment) these Lines.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break5.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">The Dispairing <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> to his -Repenting Charmer.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">What</span> Cruel Star last Night, had Influence over -my Inhumane Dear? Say, to what Cause must -I ascribe my Fatal Disappointment? For I wou’d -fain believe I owe it not to Thee!----Such an Action, -after what thou hast confest, I cou’d expect from nothing -but a Creature of</i> <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>’s <i>Temper---no, -’tis too much of the vain Coquet, and indeed too -much of the Jilt, for my Adorable to be guilty of--and -yet---Oh how shall I excuse thee? when every thing -was hush’d, Darkness my Friend, and all my Wishes -rais’d, when every Nerve trembled with fierce Desires, -and my Pulse beat a call to Love, or Death,----(For -if I not enjoy thee, that will soon arrive) -then, then what, but thy self, forgetting all thy Vows,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span> -thy tender Vows of the most Ardent Passion, cou’d have -destroyed my Hopes?---Oh where was then that Love -which lately flatter’d my fond doating Soul, when sinking, -dying in my Arms, my Charmer lay! And suffer’d me -to reap each Prologue favour to the greatest Bliss----But -they are past, and rigid Honour stands to -Guard those joys, which----</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was no more written, but there needed -no more to make <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, before half distracted, -now quite so. She was now convinc’d that she had -a much more dangerous Rival than <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, -and her Curiosity who it might be, was not much -less troublesome to her than other Passions.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">She</span> was going to seek her Husband with this Testimony -of his Infidelity in her Hand, when he, remembring -he had left it there, was coming hastily -back to fetch it. The Excess of Fury which she met -him with, is hardly to be imagin’d, she upbraided him -in such a Fashion as might be called reviling, and had -so little regard to good Manners, or even decency in what -she said, that it dissipated all the confusion he was in -at first, to see so plain a Proof against him in her Hands, -and rouz’d him to a rage not much Inferior to her’s. -She endeavour’d (tho’ she took a wrong Method) to -bring him to a Confession, he had done amiss; and he, -to lay the Tempest of her Tongue, by storming louder, -but neither succeeded in their wish: And he, stung -with the bitterness of her Reproaches, and tired with -Clamour, at last flung from her with a solemn Vow -never to eat, or Sleep with her more.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Wife</span> if equally haughty and jealous, if less fond -than <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> will scarce be able to comprehend -the greatness of her Sufferings: And it is not to be -wonder’d at, that she, so violent in all her Passions, and -agitated by so many, at once, committed a thousand -Extravagancies, which those who know the force but -of one, by the Aid of Reason, may avoid. She tore<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span> -down the <i>Count</i>’s Picture which hung in the Room, -and stamp’d on it, then the Letter, her own Cloaths, -and Hair, and whoever had seen her in that Posture, -wou’d have thought she appear’d more like what the -Furies are represented to be, than a Woman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> when he took leave the Night before -of the <i>Baron</i> <span class="smcap">D’espernay</span>, had promis’d to return -to him in the Morning, and give him an Account -of his Adventure with <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, but the vexation -of his disappointment, and quarrel with his Wife, -having hindred him all this time, the <i>Baron</i> came to his -House, impatient to know the Success of an Affair on -which his own hopes depended. He was told by the -Servants that their Lord was above, and running hastily -without Ceremony, the first Person he saw was -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, in the condition I have describ’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Baron</i> had passionately lov’d this Lady from -the first Moment he had seen her, but it was with that -sort of Love, which considers more it’s own gratification, -than the Interest, or quiet, of the object beloved. -He imagin’d by the Wildness of <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>’s Countenance -and Behaviour, that the <i>Count</i> had given her some -extraordinary occasion of distaste, and was so far from -being troubled at the Sorrow he beheld her in, that he -rejoyc’d in it, as the advancement of his Designs. But -he wanted not cunning to disguise his Sentiments, and -approaching her with a tender, and submissive Air, -entreated her to tell him the Cause of her disorder. -<span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> had always consider’d him as a Person of -worth, and one who was entitled to her Esteem by -the vast respect he always paid her, and the Admiration, -which in every opportunity, he exprest for her -Wit and Beauty. She was not perhaps far from guessing -the Extent of his Desires, by some Looks, and -private Glances he had given her, and, notwithstanding -her Passion, for the <i>Count</i>, was too vain -to be offended at it. On the contrary, it pleas’d -her Pride, and confirm’d her in the good Opinion she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span> -had of her self, to think a Man of his Sense shou’d be -compell’d by the force of her irresistible Attractions -to adore and to despair, and therefore made no Difficulty -of disburthening all the anguish of her Soul, in -the Bosom of this, as she believ’d, so faithful Friend.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Baron</i> seem’d to receive this Declaration of -her Wrongs, with all imaginable concern: And accus’d -the <i>Count</i> of Stupidity in so little knowing the -value of a Jewel he was Master of, and gave her some -hints, that he was not unsensible who the Lady was, -that had been the Cause of it, which <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -presently taking hold on, O speak her Name (said she) -quick, let me know her, or own thy Friendship was -but feign’d to undo me, and that thou hatest the -wretched <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>. O far (resum’d he) far be -such thoughts, first let me Die, to prove my Zeal---my -Faith, sincere to you, who only next to Heaven, -are worthy Adoration---but forgive me, if I say, in -this, you must not be obey’d. O why, said she? Perhaps, -(answer’d he) I am a trusted Person---A confident, -and if I should reveal the secret of my Friend, -I know, tho’ you approv’d the Treachery, you wou’d -detest the Traytor. O! Never (rejoyn’d she impatiently) -’twou’d be a Service, more than the whole -Study of my Life can pay----am I not Rack’d,----Stab’d---and -Mangled in Idea, by some dark Hand -shaded with Night and Ignorance? And shou’d I not -be grateful for a friendly Clue to guide me from this -Labyrinth of Doubt, to a full Day of Certainty, where -all the fiend may stand expos’d before me, and I have -Scope to Execute my Vengeance? Besides, (continu’d -she, finding he was silent and seemingly extreamly -mov’d at what she said) ’tis joyning in the Cause of -Guilt to hide her from me----come, you must tell -me---your Honour suffers else---both that, and pity, -plead the Injur’d’s Cause. Alas (said he) Honour can -ne’er consent to a Discovery of what, with solemn -Vows I have promis’d to Conceal; but Oh!---There -is something in my Soul, more Powerful, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span> -says, that <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> must not be deny’d. Why then -(cry’d she) do you delay? Why keep me on the Rack, -when one short Word wou’d ease me of my Torment? -I have consider’d (answer’d he after a pause) Madam, -you shall be satisfied, depend on it you shall, tho’ -not this Moment, you shall have greater Proofs than -Words can give you----Occular Demonstration shall -strike denial Dumb. What mean you? Interrupted -she; you shall behold (said he) the guilty pair, link’d -in each others Arms. Oh <span class="smcap">Espernay</span> (rejoyn’d -she) coud’st thou do that?---’Tis easie (answer’d he) -as I can order Matters---but longer Conferrence may -render me suspected---I’ll go seek the <i>Count</i>, for he -must be my Engine to betray himself---In a Day or -two, at farthest you shall enjoy all the Revenge Detection -can bestow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> wou’d fain have perswaded him to -have told her the Name of her Rival, in part of that -full Conviction he had promis’d her, but in vain, and -she was oblig’d to leave the Issue of this Affair entirely -to his Management.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Baron</i> was extreamly pleas’d with the Progress -he had made, and did not doubt, but for the purchase -of this secret he shou’d obtain every thing he desired -of <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>. He found <i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> full of -troubled and perplexed Thoughts, and when he had -heard the History of his disappointment: I am sorry -to hear (said he) that the foolish Girl does not know her -own mind---but come (my Lord continued he, after -a little pause) do not suffer your self to sink beneath -a Caprice, which all those who converse much with -that Sex must frequently meet with---I have a Contrivance -in my Head, that cannot fail to render all her peevish -Virtue frustrate: And make her happy in her own despite. -Oh <span class="smcap">Espernay</span>! (reply’d the <i>Count</i>) thou talkest as -Friendship prompts thee, I know thou wishest my -Success, but alas! So many, and such unforeseen Accidents<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> -have happen’d hitherto to prevent me, that I begin -to think the Hand of Fate has set me down for -lost. For shame my Lord (Interrupted the <i>Baron</i>) be -not so poor in Spirit----Once more I tell you that -she shall be yours---a Day or two shall make her so---and -because I know you Lovers are unbelieving, and -impatient----I will Communicate the Means. A Ball, -and Entertainment shall be provided at my House, to -which, all the Neighbouring People of Condition -shall be invited, amongst the number, your self, your -Lady, and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>; it will be late before ’tis -done, and I must perswade your Family, and some -others who live farthest off, to Countenance the Design -to stay all Night; all that you have to do, is to keep up -your Resentment to <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, that you may have -a pretence to sleep from her: I shall take care to have -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> plac’d where no Impediment may bar -your Entrance. Impossible Suggestion! (cry’d <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -shaking his Head) <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> is in too much -Rage of Temper to listen to such an Invitation, and -without her, we must not hope for <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>. -How Industrious are you (resum’d the <i>Baron</i>) to create -difficulties where there is none: Tho’ I confess -this may have, to you, a reasonable Appearance of one. -But know, my Friendship builds it’s hopes to serve -you on a sure Foundation---this jealous furious Wife, -makes me the Confident of her imagin’d Injuries, Conjures -me to use all my Interest with you for a reconcilement, -and believes I am now pleading for her----I -must for a while rail at your Ingratitude, and Condemn -your want of Taste, to keep my Credit with -her, and now and then sweeten her with a doubtful -Hope that it may be possible at last to bring you to -acknowledge, that you have been in an Error; this at -once confirms her, that I am wholly on her side, and -engages her to follow my Advice.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> nothing Palls desire so much as too easie an -Assurance of Means to gratifie it, yet a little hope is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span> -absolutely necessary to preserve it. The fiery Wishes -of <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Soul, before chill’d by despair, and -half supprest with clouding Griefs, blaz’d now, as -fierce, and vigorous as ever, and he found so much probability -in what the <i>Baron</i> said, that he was ready to -adore him for the Contrivance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thus</span> all Parties, but <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, remain’d in a -sort of a pleas’d Expectation. The <span class="smcap">Count</span> doubted -not of being happy, nor <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> of having -her curiosity satisfy’d by the <i>Baron’s</i> Assistance, nor -himself of the reward he design’d to demand of her -for that good Service, and each long’d impatiently for -the Day, or rather Night, which was to bring this -great Affair to a Period. Poor <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> was the -only Person, who had no interval of Comfort. Restrain’d -by Honour, and enflam’d by Love, her very -Soul was torn: And when she found that <span class="smcap">Count -D’elmont</span> made no attempt to get into her Chamber -again, as she imagin’d he wou’d, she fell into a -Despair more terrible than all her former Inquietudes; -she presently fancy’d that the disappointment he had -met with the Night before, had driven the hopeless -Passion from his Heart, and the Thoughts of being -no longer beloved by him, were unsupportable. She -saw him not all that Day, nor the next, the quarrel -between him and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> having caus’d separate -Tables, she was oblig’d in Decency, to eat at that -where she was, and had the Mortification of hearing -her self Curs’d every Hour, by the enrag’d Wife, in -the Name of her unknown Rival, without daring to -speak a Word in her own Vindication.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the mean time the <i>Baron</i> diligent to make good -the Promises he had given the <span class="smcap">Count</span> and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -for his own Ends, got every thing ready, and came -himself to <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> House, to entreat their -Company at his. Now Madam (said he) to <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -the time is come to prove your Servants -Faith: This Night shall put an end to your uncertainty: -They had no opportunity for further Speech;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span> -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> came that Moment into the Room, -who being ask’d to go to the Ball, and seeming a little -unwilling to appear at any publick Diversion, by Reason -of the late Death of her Father, put the <i>Baron</i> in -a Mortal Apprehension for the Success of his Undertaking: -But <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> joyning in his Entreaties, she -was at last prevail’d upon: The <span class="smcap">Count</span> went along -with the <i>Baron</i> in his Chariot: And the Ladies soon -follow’d in an other.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was a vast deal of Company there, and -the <i>Count</i> danc’d with several of the Ladies, and was -extreamly gay amongst them: <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> watch’d -his Behaviour, and regarded every one of them, in -their Turn, with Jealousie, but was far from having -the least Suspicion of her whom only she had Cause.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> greatest Motive to go, was, -because she might have the happiness of seeing her -admir’d <i>Count</i>; a Blessing, she had not enjoy’d these -two Days, yet she took but little Satisfaction in that -View, without an opportunity of being spoke to by -him. But that uneasiness was remov’d, when the serious -Dances being over, and they all joyning in a grand -Ballet: He every now and then, got means to say a -Thousand tender Things to her, press’d her Hand whenever -he turn’d her, and wou’d sometimes, when at a -distance from <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, pretend to be out, on -purpose to stand still, and talk to her. This kind of -Behaviour banish’d part of her Sufferings, for tho’ she -cou’d consider both his, and her own Passion in no -other View, than that of a very great Misfortune to -them both, yet there are so many Pleasures, even in the -Pains of Love. Such tender thrillings, such Soul-ravishing -Amusements, attend some happy Moments of Contemplation, -that those who most Endeavour, can wish -but faintly to be freed from.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> it grew pretty late, the Baron made a -sign to the Count to follow him into a little Room -joyning to that where they were, and when he had, -now my Lord, (said he) I doubt not but this Night -will make you entirely Possessor of your Wishes: I -have prolonged the Entertainment, on purpose to detain -those, who ’tis necessary for our Design, and have -ordered a Chamber for <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, which has no -Impediment to Bar your Entrance: O! Thou best of -Friends, (answer’d <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>) how shall I requite -thy Goodness? In making (resum’d the Baron) a -right Use of the Opportunity I give you, for if you -do not, you render fruitless all the Labours of my -Brain, and make me wretched, while my Friend is -so. Oh! fear me not (cry’d <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> in a Rapture) -I will not be deny’d, each Faculty of my Soul -is bent upon Enjoyment, tho’ Death in all its various -Horrors glar’d upon me, I’d scorn ’em all in <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> -Arms---O! the very Name transports me---New -fires my Blood, and tingles in my Veins---Imagination -points out all her Charms--Methinks I -see her lie in sweet Confusion--Fearing--Wishing--Melting---Her -glowing Cheeks--Her closing dying -Eyes--her every kindling--Oh ’tis too vast for Thought! -Even Fancy flags, and cannot reach her Wonders! -As he was speaking, <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, who had taken -notice of his going out of the Room, and had follow’d -him with a Design of talking to him, came -time enough to hear the latter part of what he said, -but seeing her Brother with him, withdrew with as -much haste as she came, and infinitely more uneasiness -of Mind; she was now but too well assur’d that -she had a greater difficulty than the Count’s Matrimonial -Engagement to get over, before she could reach -his Heart, and was ready to burst with Vexation to -think she was supplanted: Full of a Thousand tormenting -Reflections she return’d to the Ball Room, -and was so out of Humour all the Night, that she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span> -could hardly be commonly Civil to any Body that -spoke to her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">At</span> last, the Hour so much desired by the Count, -the Baron, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> (tho’ for various Reasons) -was arriv’d: The Company broke up; those who -liv’d near, which were the greatest part, went home, -the others being entreated by the Baron, stay’d. When -they were to be conducted to their Chambers, he call’d -<span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, and desired she would take care of the -Ladies as he should direct, but above all, charg’d to -place <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> in two Chambers -which he shewed her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Melantha</span> was now let into the Secret she so -much desired to know, the Name of her Rival, which -she had not come time enough to hear, when she did -the Count’s Rapturous Description of her. She had -before found out, that her Brother was in Love with -<span class="smcap">Alovysa</span>, and did not doubt, but that there was a -double Intrigue to be carry’d on that Night, and was -the more confirm’d in that Opinion, when she remembred, -that the <i>Baron</i> had order’d the Lock that -Day to be taken off the Door of that Chamber -where <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> was to be lodg’d. It presently -came into her Head, to betray all she knew -to <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, but she soon rejected that Resolution -for another, which she thought would give her -a more pleasing Revenge: She conducted all the Ladies -to such Chambers as she thought fit, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -to that her Brother had desired, having no design -of disappointing him, but <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> she -led to one where she always lay her self, resolving -to supply her Place in the other, where the Count -was to come: Yes, (said she to her self) I will receive -his Vows in <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Room, and when -I find him rais’d to the highest pitch of Expectation, -declare who I am, and awe him into Tameness; -’twill be a charming Piece of Vengeance, besides, if -he be not the most ungrateful Man on Earth, he must<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span> -Adore my Generosity in not exposing him to his Wife, -when I have him in my Power, after the Coldness -he has us’d me with. She found something so pleasing -in this Contrivance, that no Considerations whatever, -could have Power to deter her from pursuing -it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the Baron found every thing was silent -and ready for his Purpose, he went softly to Count -<span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Chamber, where he was impatiently -expected; and taking him by the Hand, led him to -that, where he had ordered <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> to be -Lodg’d. When they were at the Door, you see my -Lord, (said he) I have kept my Promise; there lies -the Idol of your Soul, go in, be bold, and all the -Happiness, you wish attend you. The Count was in -too great a hurry of disorder’d Thoughts to make -him any other Answer than a passionate Embrace, -and gently pushing open the Door which had no fastning -to it, left the Baron to prosecute the remaining -part of his treacherous Design.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had all the time of her being at the -Baron’s, endur’d most grievous Racks of Mind, her -Husband appear’d to her that Night, more gay and -lovely, if possible than ever, but that Contentment -which sat upon his Face, and added to his Graces, -stung her to the Soul, when she reflected how -little Sympathy there was between them: Scarce a -Month (said she to her self) was I bless’d with those -looks of Joy, a pensive sullenness has dwelt upon his -Brow e’er since, ’till now; ’tis from my Ruin that his -Pleasure flows, he hates me, and rejoyces in a Pretence, -tho’ never so poor a one, to be absent from me. She -was inwardly toss’d with a Multitude of these and the -like perturbations, tho’ the Assurance the Baron had -given her of Revenge, made her conceal them tolerably -well, while she was in Company, but when she -was left alone in the Chamber, and perceiv’d the Baron -did not come so soon as she expected. Her Rage<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span> -broke out in all the Violence imaginable: She gave a -loose to every furious Passion, and when she saw him -enter, Cruel <i>D’Espernay</i> (said she) where have you -been!---Is this the Friendship which you vow’d? -To leave me here distracted with my Griefs, while -my perfidious Husband, and the cursed she, that robs -me of him, are perhaps, as happy, as their guilty -Love can make them? Madam (answer’d he) ’tis but a -Moment since they are met: A Moment! (interrupted -she) a Moment is too much, the smallest Particle of -undivided Time, may make my Rival blest, and -vastly recompence for all that my Revenge can do. -Ah Madam (resum’d the Baron) how dearly do you -still Love that most ungrateful Man: I had hopes -that the full Knowledge of his Falshood might have -made you scorn the scorner, I shall be able by to -Morrow (reply’d the Cunning <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> who knew -his drift well enough) to give you a better account -of my Sentiments than now I can:---But why do -we delay (continued she impatiently) are they not together?---The -Baron saw this was no time to press -her farther, and therefore taking a Wax Candle which -stood on the Table, in one Hand, and offering the -other to lead her, I am ready Madam (said he) to -make good my Promise, and shall esteem no other -Hours of my Life happy, but those which may be -serviceable to you: They had only a small part of -a Gallery to go thro’, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had no time -to answer to these last Words, if she had been compos’d -enough to have done it, before they were at -the Door, which as soon as the Baron had brought -her to, he withdrew with all possible Speed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> the <i>Count</i> had been but a very little time in -the Arms of his suppos’d <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, yet he had -made so good use of it, and had taken so much Advantage -of her complying Humour, that all his Fears -were at an End, he now thought himself the most -Fortunate of all Mankind; and <i>Melantha</i> was -far from repenting the Breach of the Resolution she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span> -had made of discovering her self to him. His Behaviour -to her was all Rapture, all killing extacy, and -she flatter’d her self with a Belief, that when he shou’d -come to know to whom he ow’d that bliss he had -possess’d, he would not be ungrateful for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">What</span> a confus’d Consternation must this Pair be -in, when <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> rush’d into the Room;---’tis -hard to say, which was the greatest, the <i>Count’s</i> -concern for his imagin’d <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Honour, or -<span class="smcap">Melantha’s</span> for her own; but if one may form -a Judgment from the Levity of the one’s Temper, -and generosity of the other’s, one may believe that his -had the Preheminence: But neither of them were so -lost in Thought, as not to take what measures the -Place and Time wou’d permit, to baffle the Fury of -this Incens’d Wife: <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> slunk under the -Cloaths and the <span class="smcap">Count</span> started up in the Bed at the -first Appearance of the Light, which <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> had -in her Hand, and in the most angry Accent he cou’d turn -his Voice to, ask’d her the Reason of her coming -there: Rage, at this sight (prepar’d and arm’d for it -as she was) took away all Power of utterance from her; -but she flew to the Bed, and began to tear the Cloaths -(which <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> held fast over her Head) in so -violent a manner, that the <i>Count</i> found the only way -to Tame her, was to meet Force with Force; so -jumping out, he seiz’d on her, and throwing her into -a Chair, and holding her down in it, Madam, Madam -(said he) you are Mad, and I as such shall use you, -unless you promise to return quietly, and leave me. -She cou’d yet bring forth no other Words, than Villain,----Monster! -And such like Names, which her -Passion and Injury suggested, which he but little regarding -but for the noise she made; for shame (resum’d -he) expose not thus your self and me, if you -cannot command your Temper, at least confine your -Clamours---I will not stir (said she, raving and struggling -to get loose) ’till I have seen the Face that has -undone me, I’ll tear out her bewitching Eyes---the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span> -curst Adultress! And leave her Mistress of fewer -Charms than thou canst find in me: She spoke this -with so elevated a Voice, that the <i>Count</i> endeavour’d -to stop her Mouth, that she might not alarm the Company -that were in the House, but he cou’d not do it -time enough to prevent her from shrieking out Murder.---Help! -Or the barbarous Man will kill me! At -these Words the <i>Baron</i> came running in immediately, -full of Surprize and Rage at something he had met -with in the mean time: How came this Woman -here, cry’d the <i>Count</i> to him: Ask me not my Lord -(said he) for I can answer nothing, but every thing -this cursed Night, I think, has happened by Enchantment; -he was going to say something more, but several -of his Guests hearing a noise, and cry of Murder, -and directed by the Lights they saw in that Room, -came in, and presently after a great many of the Servants, -that the Chamber was as full as it cou’d hold: -The <i>Count</i> let go his Wife on the sight of the first -stranger that enter’d; and indeed, there was no need -of his confining her in that Place (tho’ he knew not -so much) for the violence of so many contrary Passions -warring in her Breast at once, had thrown her -into a Swoon, and she fell back when he let go his hold -of her, Motionless, and in all appearance Dead. The -<i>Count</i> said little, but began to put on his Cloaths, -asham’d of the Posture he had been seen in; but the -<span class="smcap">Baron</span> endeavour’d to perswade the Company, that -it was only a Family Quarrel of no Consequence, told -them he was sorry for the disturbance it had given -them, and desir’d them to return to their Rest, and -when the Room was pretty clear, order’d two or -three of the Maids to carry <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> to her Chamber, -and apply Things proper for her Recovery; as -they were bearing her out, <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> who had been -frighted as well as the rest, with the noise she heard, -was running along the Gallery to see what had happen’d, -and met them; her Trouble to find <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> -in that Condition, was unfeign’d, and she assisted those<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span> -that were employ’d about her, and accompany’d them -where they carry’d her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> was going to the Bed-side to comfort -the conceal’d Fair, that lay still under the Cloaths, when -he saw <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> at the Door: What Surprize -was ever equal to his, at this View?-----He stood -like one transfix’d with Thunder, he knew not what -to think, or rather cou’d not think at all, confounded -with a seeming Impossibility. He beheld the -Person, whom he thought had lain in his Arms, -whom he had enjoy’d, whose Bulk and Proportion -he still saw in the Bed, whom he was just going -to Address to, and for whom he had been in all -the Agonies of Soul imaginable, come from a distant -Chamber, and unconcern’d, ask’d cooly, how <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -came to be taken ill! He look’d confusedly -about, sometimes on <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, sometimes towards -the Bed, and sometimes on the Baron; am I -awake, (said he) or is every thing I see and hear, Illusion? -The Baron could not presently resolve after -what manner he should answer, tho’ he perfectly -knew the Truth of this Adventure, and who was in -the Bed; for, when he had conducted <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> to -that Room, in order to make the Discovery he had -promised, he went to his Sister’s Chamber, designing -to abscond there, in case the Count should fly out on -his Wife’s Entrance, and seeing him there, imagine -who it was that betray’d him; and finding the Door -shut, knock’d and call’d to have it opened; <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -who began to think she should lye in quiet no -where, ask’d who was there, and what he would -have? I would speak with my Sister, (reply’d he, -as much astonish’d then, to hear who it was that answer’d -him, as the Count was now to see her) and -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> having assur’d him that she was not -with her, left him no Room to doubt, by what means -the Exchange had been made: Few Men, how amorous -soever themselves, care that the Female part of -their Family should be so, and he was most sensibly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span> -mortify’d with it, but reflecting that it could not be -kept a Secret, at least from the Count, my Lord, -(said he, pointing to the Bed) there lies the Cause of -your Amazement, that wicked Woman has betray’d -the Trust I repos’d in her, and deceiv’d both you and -me; rise, continued he, throwing open the Curtains, -thou shame of thy Sex, and everlasting Blot and Scandal -of the Noble House thou art descended from; -rise, I say, or I will stab thee here in this Scene of -Guilt; in speaking these Words, he drew out his -Sword, and appear’d in such a real Fury, that the -Count, tho’ more and more amaz’d with every thing -he saw and heard, made no doubt but he wou’d do -as he said, and ran to hold his Arm.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> no Woman that is Mistress of a great share of -Wit, <i>will</i> be a Coquet, so no Woman that has not -a little, <i>can</i> be one: <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, tho’ frighted to -Death with these unexpected Occurrences, feign’d a -Courage, which she had not in reality, and thrusting -her Head a little above the Cloaths, Bless me Brother -(said she) I vow I do not know what you mean by -all this Bustle, neither am I guilty of any Crime: I -was vex’d indeed to be made a Property of, and -chang’d Beds with <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> for a little innocent -Revenge; for I always design’d to discover my self -to the Count, time enough to prevent Mischief. The -Baron was not so silly as to believe what she said, tho’ -the Count, as much as he hated her, had too much -Generosity to contradict her, and keeping still hold of -the Baron, come <i>D’Espernay</i>, (said he) I believe your -Sisters Stars and mine, have from our Birth been at -Variance, for this is the third Disappointment she has -given me; once in <span class="smcap">Melliora’s</span> Chamber, then in -the Wilderness, and now here; but I forgive her, -therefore let us retire and leave her to her Repose. -The Baron was sensible that all the Rage in the World -could not recall what had been done, and only giving -her a furious Look, went with the Count out of the -Room, without saying any thing more to her at that -Time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Baron with much Entreating, at last prevail’d -on Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> to go into his Bed, where -he accompany’d him; but they were both of them -too full of troubled Meditations, to Sleep: His Sister’s -Indiscretion vex’d the Baron to the Heart, and took -away great part of the Joy, for the fresh Occasion -the Count had given <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> to withdraw her Affection -from him. But with what Words can the -various Passions that agitated the Soul of <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> -be described? The Transports he had enjoy’d in an -imaginary Felicity, were now turn’d to so many real -Horrors; he saw himself expos’d to all the World, -for it would have been Vanity to the last Degree, to -believe this Adventure would be kept a Secret, but -what gave him the most bitter Reflection, was, that -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> when she should know it, as he could -not doubt but she immediately wou’d be told it by -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, wou’d judge of it by the Appearance, -and believe him, at once, the most vicious, and -most false of Men. As for his Wife, he thought -not of her, with any Compassion for his Sufferings, -but with Rage and Hate, for that jealous Curiosity, -which he suppos’d had led her to watch his Actions -that Night; (for he had not the least Suspicion of the -Baron.) <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> he always despised, but now -detested, for the Trick she had put upon him; yet -thought it would be not only unmanly, but barbarous -to let her know he did so: It was in vain for -him to endeavour to come to a Determination after -what manner he should behave himself to any of -them, and when the Night was past, in forming a -thousand several Resolutions, the Morning found him -as much to seek as before: He took his Leave early -of the Baron, not being willing to see any of the -Company after what had happened, ’till he was more -Compos’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> was not deceiv’d in his Conjectures concerning -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, for <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> was no sooner recover’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span> -from her Swoon, than, she, with bitter Exclamations, -told her what had been the Occasion, and -put that astonish’d Fair one into such a visible Disorder, -as had she not been too full of Misery, to take -Notice of it, had made her easily perceive that she -was deeply interested in the Story: But whatever she -said against the Count, as she could not forbear something, -calling him Ungrateful, Perjur’d, Deceitful, -and Inconstant, <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> took only, as a Proof of -Friendship to her self, and the Effects of that just Indignation -all Women ought to feel for him, that takes -a Pride in Injuring any one of them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the Count was gone, the Baron sent to -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> to enquire of her Health, and if he might -have leave to visit her in her Chamber, and being told -she desired he shou’d, resolv’d now to make his Demand. -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> had but just parted from her, -in order to get herself ready to go Home, and she -was alone when he came in. As soon as the first Civilities -were over, she began afresh to conjure him to -let her know the Name of her Rival, which he artfully -evading, tho’ not absolutely denying, made her -almost distracted; the Baron carefully observ’d her -every Look and Motion, and when he found her Impatience -was rais’d to the highest degree; Madam -(said he, taking her by the Hand, and looking tenderly -on her) you cannot blame a Wretch who has -lavish’d all he had away to one poor Jewel, to make -the most he can of that, to supply his future Wants: -I have already forfeited all pretence to Honour, and -even common Hospitality, by betraying the Trust -that was repos’d in me, and exposing under my -own Roof, the Man who takes me for his dearest -Friend, and what else I have suffer’d from that unavoidable -Impulse which compell’d me to do all this, -your self may judge, who too well know, the Pangs -and Tortures of neglected Love---Therefore, (continued -he with a deep Sigh) since this last reserve is -all my Hopes dependance, do not, Oh Charming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span> -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, think me Mercinary, if I presume to set -a Price upon it, which I confess too high, yet nothing -less can Purchase: No Price (reply’d <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, who -thought a little Condescension was necessary to win -him to her purpose) can be too dear to buy my Peace, -nor Recompence too great for such a Service: What, -not your Love, said the Baron, eagerly kissing her -Hand? No (resum’d she, forcing herself to look -kindly on him) not even that, when such a Proof of -yours engages it; but do not keep me longer on the -Rack, give me the Name and then.---She spoke these -last Words with such an Air of Languishment, that -the Baron thought his Work was done, and growing -bolder, from her Hand he proceeded to her Lips, -and answer’d her only in Kisses, which distastful as -they were to her, she suffer’d him to take, without -Resistance, but that was not all he wanted, and believing -this the Critical Minute, he threw his Arms -about her Waist, and began to draw her by little and -little toward the Bed; which she affected to permit -with a kind of an unwilling Willingness; saying, -Well, if you wou’d have me able to deny you nothing -you can ask, tell me the Name I so much wish to -know: But the Baron was as cunning as she, and -seeing thro’ her Artifice, was resolv’d to make sure -of his Reward first: Yes, yes, my adorable <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -(answer’d he, having brought her now very near the -Bed) you shall immediately know all, thy Charms -will force the Secret from my Breast, close as it is -lodg’d within my inmost Soul.---Dying with Rapture -I will tell thee all.---If that a Thought of this -injurious Husband, can interpose amidst Extatick -Joys. What will not some Women venture, to satisfy -a jealous Curiosity? <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had feign’d to -consent to his Desires, (in hopes to engage him to a -Discovery) so far, and had given him so many Liberties, -that now, it was as much as she cou’d do to -save herself, from the utmost Violence, and perceiving -she had been outwitted, and that nothing but the -really yielding up her Honour, cou’d oblige him to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span> -reveal what she desired. Villain, said she, (struggling -to get loose from his Embrace) dare thy base Soul -believe so vilely of me? Release me from thy detested -Hold, or my Cries shall force thee to it, and proclaim -thee what thou art, a Monster! The Baron was -not enough deluded by her pretence of Kindness, -to be much surpriz’d at this sudden turn of her -Behaviour, and only cooly answer’d, Madam, I have -no design of using Violence, but perceive, if I had -depended on your Gratitude, I had been miserably -deceiv’d. Yes (said she, looking contemptibly on him) -I own thou would’st; for whatsoever I might say, -or thou could’st hope, I love my Husband still, with -an unbated Fondness, doat upon him! Faithless and -Cruel as he is, he still is lovely! His Eyes lose nothing -of their brightness, nor his Tongue its softness! His -very Frowns have more Attraction in them than any -others Smiles! and canst thou think! Thou, so different -in all from him, that thou seemest not the -same Species of Humanity, nor ought’st to stile thy -self a Man since he is no more: Canst thou, I say, -believe a Woman, bless’d as <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> has been, can -e’er blot out the dear Remembrance, and quit her -Hopes of re-gain’d Paradise in his Embrace, for certain -Hell in Thine? She spoke these Words with so -much Scorn, that the Baron skill’d as he was in -every Art to tempt, cou’d not conceal the Spite he -conceiv’d at them, and letting go her Hand, (which -perforce he had held) I leave you Madam (said he) -to the Pleasure of enjoying your own Humour; neither -that, nor your Circumstances are to be envy’d, -but I’d have you to remember, that you are your own -Tormentor, while you refuse the only means can -bring you Ease. I will have Ease another way (said -she, incens’d at the Indignity she imagin’d he treated -her with) and if you still persist in refusing to discover -to me the Person who has injur’d me, I shall -make no difficulty of letting the Count know how -much of his Secrets you have imparted, and for what -Reason you conceal the other: You may do so (answer’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span> -he) and I doubt not but you will---Mischief -is the darling Favourite of Woman! Blood is the Satisfaction -perhaps, that you require, and if I fall by -him, or he by me, your Revenge will have its aim, -either on the Unloving or the Unlov’d; for me, I set my -Life at nought, without your Love ’tis Hell; but do -not think that even dying, to purchase Absolution, -I’d reveal one Letter of that Name, you so much -wish to hear, the Secret shall be buried with me.----Yes, -Madam (continued he, with a malicious Air) -that happy Fair unknown, whose Charms have made -you wretched, shall undiscover’d, and unguess’d at, -Triumph in those Joys you think none but your -Count can give. <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had not an Opportunity -to make any Answer to what he said; <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -came that Moment into the Room, and ask’d -if she was ready to go, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> saying that -she was, they both departed from the Baron’s House, -without much Ceremony on either side.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> had not been long at home before a -Messenger came to acquaint her, that her Sister having -miss’d of her at <i>Paris</i>, was now on her Journey to -<i>Le Beausse</i>, and wou’d be with her in a few Hours: -She rejoyc’d as much at this News, as it was possible -for one so full of disquiet to do, and order’d her -Chariot and Six to be made ready again, and went -to meet her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> heard of <span class="smcap">Ansellina’s</span> coming -almost as soon as <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, and his Complaisance -for Ladies, join’d with the extream desire he had of -seeing his Brother, whom he believ’d was with her, -wou’d certainly have given him Wings to have flown -to them with all imaginable Speed, had not the late -Quarrel between him and his Wife, made him think -it was improper to join Company with her on any -Account whatever: He was sitting in his Dressing-Room -Window in a melancholly and disturb’d Meditation, -ruminating on every Circumstance of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span> -last Nights Adventure, when he perceiv’d a couple of -Horsemen come galloping over the Plain, and make -directly toward his House. The Dust they made, kept -him from distinguishing who they were, and they -were very near the Gate before he discover’d them to -be the <i>Chevalier</i> <span class="smcap">Brillian</span>, and his Servant: The -Surprize he was in to see him without <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -was very great, but much more so, when running -down, as soon as he saw he was alighted, and opening -his Arms eagerly to Embrace him; the other drawing -back, No, my Lord (said he) since you are pleas’d -to forget I am your Brother, I pretend no other way -to merit your Embraces: Nor can think it any Happiness -to hold him in my Arms, who keeps me distant -from his Heart. What mean you (cry’d <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, -extreamly astonish’d at his Behaviour) you -know so little (resum’d the <i>Chevalier</i>) of the power -of Love, your self, that perhaps, you think I ought -not to resent what you having done to ruin me in mine: -But, however Sir, Ambition is a Passion which you -are not a Stranger to, and have settled your own Fortune -according to your Wish, methinks you shou’d -not wonder that I take it ill, when you endeavour to -prevent my doing so to: The <i>Count</i> was perfectly -Confounded at these Words, and looking earnestly on -him; Brother (said he) you seem to lay a heavy Accusation -on me, but if you still retain so much of that -former Affection which was between us, as to desire -I shou’d be clear’d in your Esteem, you must be more -plain in your Charge, for tho’ I easily perceive that I -am wrong’d, I cannot see by what means I am so. -My Lord, you are not wrong’d (cry’d the <i>Chevalier</i> -hastily) you know you are not: If my Tongue were -silent, the despair that sits upon my Brow, my alter’d -Looks, and grief-sunk Eyes, wou’d proclaim your -Barbarous---most unnatural Usage of me. Ungrateful -<span class="smcap">Brillian</span> (said the <span class="smcap">Count</span>, at once inflam’d -with Tenderness and Anger) is this the Consolation -I expected from your Presence? I know not for -what Cause I am upbraided, being Innocent of any,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span> -nor what your Troubles are, but I am sure my own -are such, as needed not this Weight to overwhelm -me. He spoke this so feelingly, and concluded with so -deep a sigh as most sensibly touch’d the Heart of -<span class="smcap">Brillian</span>. If I cou’d believe that you had any -(reply’d he) it were enough to sink me quite, and rid -me of a Life which <span class="smcap">Ansellina’s</span> loss has made -me hate. What said you, (interrupted the <i>Count</i>) <span class="smcap">Ansellina’s</span> -loss? If that be true, I pardon all the -wildness of your unjust Reproaches, for well I know, -despair has small regard to Reason, but quickly speak -the Cause of your Misfortune:---I was about to enquire -the Reason that I saw you not together, when -your unkind Behaviour drove it from my Thoughts. -That Question (answer’d the <i>Chevalier</i>) ask’d by you -some Days since, wou’d have put me past all the -Remains of Patience, but I begin to hope I am not so -unhappy as I thought, but still am blest in Friendship, -tho’ undone in Love----but I’ll not keep you -longer in suspence, my Tale of Grief is short in the -Repeating, tho’ everlasting in its Consequence. In -saying this, he sat down, and the <i>Count</i> doing the -like, and assuring him of Attention, he began his Relation -in this manner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Your</span> Lordship may remember that I gave you -an Account by Letter, of <span class="smcap">Ansellina’s</span> Indisposition, -and the Fears I was in for her; but by the time -I receiv’d your Answer, I thought my self the happiest -of Mankind: She was perfectly recover’d, and -every Day I receiv’d new Proofs of her Affection: We -began to talk now of coming to <i>Paris</i>, and she seem’d -no less Impatient for that Journey than my self, and -one Evening, the last I ever had the Honour of her -Conversation; she told me, that in spite of the Physicians -Caution, she wou’d leave <i>Amiens</i> in three or four -Days; You may be sure I did not disswade her from -that Resolution; but, how great was my Astonishment, -when going the next Morning to the <i>Baronesses</i>, -to give the Ladies the <i>Bonjour</i>, as I constantly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span> -did every Morning, I perceiv’d an unusual coldness -in the Face of every one in the Family; the <i>Baroness</i> -herself spoke not to me, but to tell me that <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -wou’d see no Company: How, Madam, said -I, am I not excepted from those general Orders, what -can this sudden alteration in my Fortune mean? I suppose -(reply’d she) that <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> has her Reasons -for what she does: I said all that despair cou’d suggest, -to oblige her to give me some light into this -Mistery, but all was in vain, she either made me no -Answers, or such as were not Satisfactory, and growing -weary with being Importun’d, she abruptly went -out of the Room, and left me in a confusion not to -be Express’d: I renew’d my visit the next Day, and -was then deny’d admittance by the Porter: The same, -the following one, and as Servants commonly form -their Behaviour, according to that of those they serve, -it was easy for me to observe I was far from being a -welcome Guest: I writ to <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>, but had -my Letter return’d unopen’d: And that Scorn so unjustly -thrown upon me, tho’ it did not absolutely cure -my Passion, yet it stirr’d up so much just Resentment -in me, that it abated very much of its Tenderness: -About a Fortnight I remain’d in this perplexity, and -at the end of it was plung’d into a greater, when I -receiv’d a little <i>Billet</i> from <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>, which as -I remember, contain’d these Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> to the <i>Chevalier</i> -<span class="smcap">Brillian</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">I sent</span> your Letter back without Perusing, believing it -might contain something of a Subject which I am -resolv’d to encourage no farther: I do not think it proper -at present to acquaint you with my Reasons for it; but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span> -if I see you at <span class="antiqua">Paris</span>, you shall know them: I set out for -thence to Morrow, but desire you not to pretend to Accompany -me thither, if you wou’d preserve the Esteem -of</i>,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ansellina.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p>I cannot but say, I thought this manner of proceeding -very odd, and vastly different from that openness -of Nature, I always admir’d in her, but as I had been -always a most obsequious Lover; I resolv’d not to forfeit -that Character, and give a Proof of an implicite Obedience -to her Will, tho’ with what Anxiety of Mind you -may imagine. I stood at a distance, and saw her take -Coach, and as soon as her Attendants were out of sight, I -got on Horseback, and follow’d; I several Times lay at -the same Inn where she did, but took care not to appear -before her: Never was any sight more pleasing -to me, than that of <i>Paris</i>, because I there hop’d to -have my Destiny unravell’d; but your being out of -Town, preventing her making any stay, I was reduc’d -to another tryal of Patience; about Seven Furlongs -from hence, hap’ning to Bait at the same <i>Cabaret</i> -with her, I saw her Woman, who had been always -perfectly obliging to me, walking alone in the Garden; -I took the liberty to show my self to her, and -ask her some Questions concerning my future Fate, -to which she answer’d with all the Freedom I cou’d -desire, and observing the Melancholly, which was -but too apparent in my Countenance: Sir, said she, -tho’ I think nothing can be more blame-worthy than -to betray the Secrets of our Superiors, yet I hope I -shall stand excus’d for declaring so much of my Lady’s -as the Condition you are in, seems to require; I -wou’d not therefore have you believe that in this Separation, -you are the only Sufferer, I can assure you, -my Lady bears her part of Sorrow too.----How can -that be possible (cry’d I) when my Misfortune is -brought upon me, only by the change of her Inclination? -Far from it (answer’d she) you have a Brother--he -only is to blame, she has receiv’d Letters from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span> -<i>Madam</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> which have---as she was speaking, -she was call’d hastily away, without being able -to finish what she was about to say, and I was so Impatient -to hear: Her naming you in such a manner, -planted ten thousand Daggers in my Soul!----What -cou’d I imagine by those Words, <i>You have a Brother, -he only is to Blame</i>, and her mentioning Letters from -that Brother’s Wife; but that it was thro’ you I was -made wretched? I repeated several times over to my -self, what she had said, but cou’d wrest no other Meaning -from it, than that you being already possess’d of -the Elder Sister’s Fortune, were willing to Engross -the other’s too, by preventing her from Marrying: -Pardon me, my Lord, if I have Injur’d you, since I -protest, the Thoughts of your designing my undoing, -was, if possible, more dreadful to me than the Ill it -self.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">You</span> will, reply’d the <i>Count</i>, be soon convinc’d -how little Hand I had in those Letters, whatever they -contain’d, when you have been here a few Days. He -then told him of the disagreement between himself -and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, her perpetual Jealousy, her Pride, her -Rage, and the little probability there was of their being -ever reconcil’d, so as to live together as they ought, -omitting nothing of the Story, but his Love for -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, and the Cause he had given to create -this uneasiness. They both concluded, that <span class="smcap">Ansellina’s</span> -alteration of Behaviour was entirely owing -to something her Sister had written, and that she wou’d -use her utmost endeavour to break off the Match wholly -in Revenge to her Husband: As they were discoursing -on means to prevent it, the Ladies came to the Gate; -they saw them thro’ the Window, and ran to receive -them immediately: The <i>Count</i> handed <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -out of the Coach, with great Complaisance, while -the <i>Chevalier</i> wou’d have done the same by <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -but she wou’d not permit him, which the -<i>Count</i> observing, when he had paid those Complements -to her Sister, which he thought civility requir’d,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span> -Madam (said he, turning to her and frowning) -is it not enough, you make me wretched by your continual -Clamours, and Upbraidings, but that your ill -Nature must extend to all, whom you believe I love? -She answer’d him only with a disdainful Look, and -haughty Toss, which spoke the Pleasure she took in -having it in her Power to give him Pain, and went out -of the Room with <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Family was now become a most -distracted one, every Body was in confusion, and it -was hard for a disinterested Person, to know how to -behave among them: The <i>Count</i> was ready to die -with Vexation, when he reflected on the Adventure -at the <span class="smcap">Baron’s</span> with <span class="smcap">Melantha</span>, and how hard -it wou’d be to clear his Conduct in that point with -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span>: She, on the other Hand, was as much -tormented at his not attempting it. The <i>Chevalier</i>, -was in the height of despair, when he found that <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -continued her Humour, and still avoided -letting him know the occasion of it: And <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, -tho’ she contented herself for some Hours with -relating to her Sister, all the Passages of her Husband’s -unkind usage of her, yet when that was over, her -Curiosity return’d, and she grew so madly Zealous to -find out, who her rival was, that she repented her Behaviour -to the <i>Baron</i>, and sent him the next Day privately, -a <i>Billet</i>, wherein she assur’d him, that she had -acquainted the <i>Count</i> with nothing that had pass’d between -them, and that she desir’d to speak with him. -’Tis easy to believe he needed not a second Invitation; -he came immediately, and <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> renew’d her -Entreaties in the most pressing manner she was capable -of, but in vain, he told her plainly, that if he cou’d -not have her Heart, nothing but the full Possession of -her Person shou’d Extort the Secret from him. ’Twould -swell this Discourse beyond what I design, to recount -her various Starts of Passions, and different Turns of -Behaviour, sometimes louder than the Winds she rav’d! -Commanded! Threatned! Then, still as <i>April</i> Showers,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span> -or Summer Dews she wept, and only whisper’d -her Complaints, now dissembling Kindness, then declaring -unfeign’d Hate; ’till at last, finding it impossible -to prevail by any other means, she promis’d to admit -him at Midnight into her Chamber: But as it was -only the force of her too passionate Affection for her -Husband, which had work’d her to this pitch of raging -Jealousie, so she had no sooner made the Assignation, -and the <i>Baron</i> had left her (to seek the <i>Count</i> -to prevent any suspicion of their long Conversation) -but all <span class="smcap">D’elmont’s</span> Charms came fresh into her -Mind, and made the Thoughts of what she had promis’d, -Odious and Insupportable; she open’d her Mouth -more than once to call back the <i>Baron</i>, and Recant all -that she had said; but her ill Genius, or that Devil, Curiosity, -which too much haunts the Minds of Women, -still prevented Her: What will become of me, -(said she to her self) what is it I am about to do? Shall -I foregoe my Honour---quit my Virtue,---sully my -yet unspotted Name with endless Infamy---and yield -my Soul to Sin, to Shame, and Horror, only to know -what I can ne’er Redress? If <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> hates me -now, will he not do so still?---What will this curs’d -Discovery bring me but added Tortures, and fresh -weight of Woe: Happy had it been for her if these -Considerations cou’d have lasted, but when she had -been a Minute or two in this Temper, she wou’d relapse -and cry, what! must I tamely bear it then?---Endure -the Flouts of the malicious World, and the -contempt of every saucy Girl, who while she pities, -scorns my want of Charms--Shall I neglected tell my -Tale of Wrongs, (O, Hell is in that Thought) ’till my -despair shall reach my Rival’s Ears, and Crown her -Adulterous Joys with double Pleasure.---Wretch that -I am!--Fool that I am, to hesitate, my Misery is -already past Addition, my everlasting Peace is broke! -Lost even to hope, what can I more endure?---No, -since I must be ruin’d, I’ll have the Satisfaction of -dragging with me to Perdition, the Vile, the Cursed -she that has undone me: I’ll be reveng’d on her, then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span> -die my self, and free me from Pollution. As she was -in this last Thought, she perceiv’d at a good distance -from her, the <i>Chevalier</i> <span class="smcap">Brillian</span> and <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> -in Discourse; the sight of him immediately put a new -contrivance into her Head, and she compos’d her self -as she cou’d, and went to meet them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> having been left alone, while her -Sister was Entertaining the <i>Baron</i>, had walk’d down -into the Garden to divert her self, where the <i>Chevalier</i>, -who was on the watch for such an opportunity, -had follow’d her; he cou’d not forbear, tho’ in Terms -full of Respect, taxing her with some little Injustice -for her late Usage of him, and Breach of Promise, in -not letting him know her Reasons for it: She, who -by Nature was extreamly averse to the disguising her -Sentiments, suffer’d him not long to press her for an -<i>Eclaircissment</i>, and with her usual Freedom, told him -what she had done, was purely in compliance with -her Sister’s Request; that she cou’d not help having the -same Opinion of him as ever, but that she had promis’d -<span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> to defer any Thoughts of marrying -him, till his Brother shou’d confess his Error: The -obliging things she said to him, tho’ she persisted in -her Resolution, dissipated great part of his Chagreen, -and he was beginning to excuse <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>, and -persuade her that her Sister’s Temper was the first occasion -of their quarrel, when <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> interrupted -them. <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span> was a little out of Countenance -at her Sister’s Presence, imagining she wou’d -be Incens’d at finding her with the <i>Chevalier</i>; but -that distressed Lady was full of other Thoughts, and -desiring him to follow her to her Chamber, as soon -as they were set down, confess’d to him, how, fir’d -with his Brother’s Falshood, she endeavour’d to revenge -it upon him, that she had been his Enemy, but -was willing to enter into any Measures for his Satisfaction, -provided he wou’d comply with one, which -she should propose, which he faithfully promising, after -she had sworn him to Secrecy, discover’d to him every<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span> -Circumstance, from her first Cause of Jealousy, to the Assignation -she had made with the <i>Baron</i>; now, said she, it -is in your Power to preserve both your Brother’s Honour, -and my Life (which I sooner will resign than my Vertue) -if you stand conceal’d in a little Closet, which I shall -convey you to, and the Moment he has satisfy’d my -Curiosity, by telling me her Name that has undone -me, rush out, and be my Protector. The <i>Chevalier</i> -was infinitely Surpriz’d at what he heard, for his -Brother had not given him the least hint of his Passion, -but thought the request she made, too reasonable -to be deny’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">While</span> they were in this Discourse, <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, -who had been sitting indulging her Melancholly -in that Closet which <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> spoke of, and which -did not immediately belong to that Chamber, but was -a sort of an Entry, or Passage, into another, and tir’d -with Reflection, was fallen asleep, but on the noise -which <span class="smcap">Alovysa</span> and the <i>Chevalier</i> made in coming -in, wak’d, and heard to her inexpressible trouble, -the Discourse that pass’d between them: She -knew that unknown Rival was herself, and condemn’d -the <i>Count</i> of the highest Imprudence, in making -a confidant, as she found he had, of the <i>Baron</i>; -she saw her Fate, at least that of her Reputation was -now upon the Crisis, that, that very Night she was -to be expos’d to all the Fury of an enrag’d Wife, and -was so shook with apprehension, that she was scarce able -to go out of the Closet time enough to prevent their -discovering she was there; what cou’d she do in this -Exigence, the Thoughts of being betray’d, was worse -to her than a thousand Deaths, and it was to be wondred -at, as she has since confest, that in that height of -Desparation, she had not put an end to the Tortures -of Reflection, by laying violent Hands on her own -Life: As she was going from the Closet hastily to her own -Appartment, the <i>Count</i> and <i>Baron</i> pass’d her, and that -sight heightening the distraction she was in, she stept<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span> -to the <i>Count</i>, and in a faultring, scarce intelligible Accent, -whisper’d, for Heaven’s Sake let me speak with -you before Night, make some pretence to come to -my Chamber, where I’ll wait for you. And as soon -as she had spoke these Words, darted from him so swift, -that he had no opportunity of replying, if he had not -been too much overwhelm’d with Joy at this seeming -Change of his Fortune to have done it; he misunderstood -part of what she said, and instead of her desiring -to speak with him <i>before Night</i>, he imagin’d, she said <i>at -Night</i>. He presently communicated it to the <i>Baron</i>, who -congratulated him upon it; and never was any Night -more impatiently long’d for, than this was by them both. -They had indeed not many Hours of Expectation, but -<span class="smcap">Melliora</span> thought them Ages; all her hopes were, that -if she cou’d have an opportunity of discovering to -<i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> what she had heard between his -Wife and Brother, he might find some means to prevent -the <i>Baron’s</i> Treachery from taking Effect. But -when Night grew on, and she perceiv’d he came not, -and she consider’d how near she was to inevitable -Ruin, what Words can sufficiently express her Agonies? -So I shall only say, they were too violent to have -long kept Company with Life; Guilt, Horrour, Fear, -Remorse, and Shame at once oppress’d her, and she -was very near sinking beneath their Weight, when -somebody knock’d softly at the Door; she made no -doubt but it was the <i>Count</i>, and open’d it immediately, -and he catching her in his Arms with all the eagerness -of transported Love, she was about to clear his -Mistake, and let him know it was not an amourous Entertainment -she expected from him; when a sudden -cry of Murder, and the noise of clashing Swords, -made him let go his hold, and draw his own, and run -along the Gallery to find out the occasion, where being -in the dark, and only directed by the noise he heard -in his Wife’s Chamber, something met the point, and -a great shriek following it, he cry’d for Lights but none -coming immediately; he stepping farther stumbled at -the Body which had fallen, he then redoubled his outcrys,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span> -and <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, frighted as she was, brought -one from her Chamber, and at the same Instant that -they discover’d it was <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span>, who coming to -alarm the Family, had by Accident run on her Husband’s -Sword, they saw the <i>Chevalier</i> pursuing the -<i>Baron</i>, who mortally wounded, dropt down by <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span> -side; what a dreadful View was this? The -<i>Count</i>, <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, and the Servants, who by this -time were most of them rowz’d, seem’d without Sence -or Motion, only the <i>Chevalier</i> had Spirit enough to -speak, or think, so stupify’d was every one with what -they saw. But he ordering the Servants to take up the -Bodies, sent one of ’em immediately for a Surgeon, -but they were both of them past his Art to cure; <span class="smcap">Alovisa</span> -spoke no more, and the <i>Baron</i> liv’d but two -Days, in which time the whole Account, as it was -gather’d from the Mouths of those chiefly concern’d, -was set down, and the Tragical part of it being laid -before the KING, there appear’d so much of Justice -in the <i>Baron’s</i> Death, and Accident in <span class="smcap">Alovisa’s</span>, -that the <i>Count</i> and <i>Chevalier</i> found it no difficult matter -to obtain their Pardon. The <i>Chevalier</i> was soon -after Married to his beloved <span class="smcap">Ansellina</span>; but <span class="smcap">Melliora</span> -look’d on herself as the most guilty Person -upon Earth, as being the primary Cause of all the -Misfortunes that had happen’d, and retir’d immediately -to a Monastery, from whence, not all the entreaties -of her Friends, nor the implorations of the -Amorous <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> cou’d bring her, she was now -resolv’d to punish, by a voluntary Banishment from all -she ever did, or cou’d love; the Guilt of Indulging that -Passion, while it was a Crime. He, not able to live -without her, at least in the same Climate, committed -the Care of his Estate to his Brother, and went to -Travel, without an Inclination ever to return: <span class="smcap">Melantha</span> -who was not of a Humour to take any -thing to Heart, was Married in a short Time, and had -the good Fortune not to be suspected by her Husband, -though she brought him a Child in Seven Months after -her Wedding.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span></p> - -<div class="tp"> - -<p class="titlepage larger"><i>LOVE in Excess:</i><br /> -<span class="smaller">OR, THE</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Fatal Inquiry</span>,<br /> -<span class="smaller">A</span><br /> -<span class="larger">NOVEL.</span></p> - -<div class="bt bb"> - -<p class="titlepage">The <span class="smcap">Third</span> and Last <span class="smcap">Part</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Success can then alone your Vows attend,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>When Worth’s the Motive, Constancy the End.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Epilogue</span> to the <i>Spartan</i> Dame.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="bt"> - -<p class="titlepage">By <i>Mrs.</i> Haywood.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="bt bb"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> -<img src="images/tp-deco.jpg" width="250" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="bt"> - -<p class="titlepage"><i>LONDON</i>:<br /> -Printed for <span class="smcap">W. Chetwood</span>, <span class="smcap">J. Woodman</span>, <span class="smcap">D.<br /> -Brown</span>, and <span class="smcap">S. Chapman</span>.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-part3.jpg" width="700" height="225" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LOVE in EXCESS:<br /> -<span class="smaller">OR, THE</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Fatal Enquiry</span>.</h2> - -<div class="bt bb tp"> - -<h2>The Third and Last <span class="smcap">Part</span>.</h2> - -</div> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-t.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap"><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> Count <i>D’elmont</i> never had any -tenderness for <i>Alovisa</i>, and her Extravagance -of Rage and Jealousie, -join’d to his Passion for <i>Melliora</i>, had -every Day abated it, yet the manner -of her Death was too great a shock -to the sweetness of his Disposition, to be easily worn -off; he cou’d not remember her Uneasiness, without -reflecting that it sprung only from her too violent Affection -for him; and tho’ there was no possibility of -living happily with her, when he consider’d that she -died, not only for him, but by his Hand, his Compassion -for the Cause, and Horror for the unwish’d, -as well as undesign’d Event, drew Lamentations from -him, more sincere, perhaps, than one of those Husbands,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span> -who call themselves very loving ones, wou’d -make.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">To</span> alleviate the troubles of his Mind, he had endeavour’d -all he cou’d, to persuade <i>Melliora</i> to continue -in his House; but that afflicted Lady was not to -be prevail’d upon, she look’d on her self, as in a manner, -accessary to <i>Alovisa</i>’s Death, and thought the -least she ow’d to her Reputation was to see the <i>Count</i> -no more, and tho’ in the forming this Resolution, she -felt Torments unconceivable, yet the strength of her -Virtue enabled her to keep it, and she return’d to the -Monastery, where she had been Educated, carrying -with her nothing of that Peace of Mind with which -she left it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Not</span> many Days pass’d between her Departure, and -the <i>Count</i>’s; he took his way towards <i>Italy</i>, by the -Persuasions of his Brother, who, since he found him -bent to Travel, hop’d that Garden of the World might -produce something to divert his Sorrows; he took -but two Servants with him, and those rather for conveniency -than State: <i>Ambition</i>, once his darling Passion, -was now wholly extinguish’d in him by these -Misfortunes, and he no longer thought of making a -Figure in the World; but his <i>Love</i> nothing cou’d -abate, and ’tis to be believ’d that the violence of that -wou’d have driven him to the use of some fatal Remedy, -if the <i>Chevalier Brillian</i>, to whom he left the -Care of <i>Melliora</i>’s and her Brother’s Fortune as well -as his own, had not, tho’ with much difficulty, obtain’d -a Promise from her, of conversing with him by -Letters.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> was all he had to keep hope alive, and indeed -it was no inconsiderable Consolation, for she that -allows a Correspondence of that Kind with a Man -that has any Interest in her Heart, can never persuade -herself, while she does so, to make him become indifferent -to her. When we give our selves the liberty<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span> -of even talking of the Person we have once lov’d, -and find the least pleasure in that Discourse, ’tis ridiculous -to imagine we are free from that Passion, without -which, the mention of it would be but insipid to -our Ears, and the remembrance to our Minds, tho’ -our Words are never so Cold, they are the Effects of -a secret Fire, which burns not with less Strength for -not being Dilated. The <i>Count</i> had too much Experience -of all the Walks and Turns of Passion to be ignorant -of this, if <i>Melliora</i> had endeavour’d to disguise -her Sentiments, but she went not so far, she thought -it a sufficient vindication of her Virtue, to withold the -rewarding of his Love, without feigning a coldness -to which she was a stranger, and he had the satisfaction -to observe a tenderness in her Stile, which assur’d -him, that her <i>Heart</i> was unalterably his, and very -much strengthen’d his Hopes, that one Day her Person -might be so too, when time had a little effac’d the -Memory of those Circumstances, which had obliged -her to put this constraint on her Inclinations.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> wrote to her from every Post-Town, and waited -till he receiv’d her Answer, by this means his Journey -was extreamly tedious, but no Adventures of any -moment, falling in his way ’till he came to <i>Rome</i>, I -shall not trouble my Readers with a recital of particulars -which cou’d be no way Entertaining.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span>, how strangely do they deceive themselves, -who fancy that they are Lovers, yet on every little -turn of Fortune, or Change of Circumstance, are agitated, -with any Vehemence, by Cares of a far different -Nature? <i>Love</i> is too jealous, too arbitrary a Monarch -to suffer any other Passion to equalize himself -in that Heart where he has fix’d his Throne. When -once enter’d, he becomes the whole Business of our -Lives, we think----we Dream of nothing else, nor -have a Wish not inspir’d by him: Those who have -the Power to apply themselves so seriously to any other -Consideration as to forget him, tho’ but for a Moment,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span> -are but Lovers in Conceit, and have entertain’d -Desire but as an agreeable Amusement, which when attended -with any Inconvenience, they may without much -difficulty shake off. Such a sort of Passion may be -properly enough call’d <i>Liking</i>, but falls widely short -of <i>Love</i>. <i>Love</i>, is what we can neither resist, expel, -nor even alleviate, if we should never so vigorously -attempt it; and tho’ some have boasted, <i>Thus -far will I yield and no farther</i>, they have been convinc’d -of the Vanity of forming such Resolutions by -the impossibility of keeping them. <i>Liking</i> is a flashy -Flame, which is to be kept alive only by ease and delight. -<i>Love</i>, needs not this fewel to maintain its Fire, -it survives in Absence, and disappointments, it endures, -unchill’d, the wintry Blasts of cold Indifference and -Neglect, and continues its Blaze, even in a storm of -Hatred and Ingratitude, and Reason, Pride, or a just -sensibility of conscious Worth, in vain oppose it. <i>Liking</i>, -plays gaily round, feeds on the Sweets in gross, -but is wholly insensible of the Thorns which guard -the nicer, and more refin’d Delicacies of Desire, and -can consequently give neither Pain, nor Pleasure in any -superlative degree. <i>Love</i> creates intollerable Torments! -Unspeakable Joys! Raises us to the highest Heaven of -Happiness, or sinks us to the lowest Hell of Misery.</p> - -<p>Count <i>D’elmont</i> experienc’d the Truth of this Assertion; -for neither his just concern for the manner of -<i>Alovisa</i>’s Death cou’d curb the Exuberance of his Joy, -when he consider’d himself belov’d by <i>Melliora</i>, nor -any Diversion of which <i>Rome</i> afforded great Variety, -be able to make him support being absent from her -with Moderation. There are I believe, but few modern -Lovers, how Passionate and constant soever they -pretend to be, who wou’d not in the <i>Count</i>’s Circumstances -have found some matter of Consolation; but -he seem’d wholly dead to Gaiety. In vain, all the -<i>Roman</i> Nobility courted his acquaintance; in vain the -Ladies made use of their utmost Artifice to engage him: -He prefer’d a solitary Walk, a lonely Shade, or the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span> -Bank of some purling Stream, where he undisturb’d -might contemplate on his belov’d <i>Melliora</i>, to all the -noisy Pleasures of the Court, or the endearments of -the inviting Fair. In fine, he shun’d as much as possible -all Conversation with the Men, or Correspondence -with the Women; returning all their <i>Billet-Doux</i>, of -which scarce a Day past, without his receiving some, -unanswer’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> manner of Behaviour in a little time deliver’d -him from the Persecutions of the Discreet; but -having receiv’d one Letter which he had us’d as he -had done the rest, it was immediately seconded by another; -both which contain’d as follows:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break5.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">Letter I.</span></p> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">To</span> the never Enough Admir’d -<span class="smcap">Count D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">In</span> your Country, where Women are allow’d the priveledge -of being seen and Address’d to, it wou’d be -a Crime unpardonable to Modesty, to make the first -Advances. But here, where rigid Rules are Bar’s, as -well to Reason, as to Nature: It wou’d be as great -one, to feign an Infidelity of your Merit. I say, feign, -for I look on it, as an impossibility really to behold you with -Indifferency: But, if I cou’d believe that any of my -Sex were in good earnest so dull, I must confess, I shou’d -Envy that happy Stupidity, which wou’d secure me from -the Pains such a Passion, as you create, must Inflict; -unless, from the Millions whom your Charms have -preach’d; you have yet a corner of your Heart Unpreposess’d;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span> -and an Inclination willing to receive the Impression -of</i>,</p> - -<p class="center">Your most Passionate and Tender, -(but ’till she receives a favourable -Answer)</p> - -<p class="right">Your unknown Adorer.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break1.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">Letter II.</span></p> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">To</span> the Ungrateful <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Unworthy</span> of the Happiness design’d you! Is it thus, -That you return the Condescention of a Lady? -How fabulous is Report, which speaks those of your -Country, warm and full of amorous Desires?--Thou, -sure, art colder than the bleak northern Islanders--dull, -stupid Wretch! Insensible of every Passion which -give Lustre to the Soul, and differ Man from Brute!--Without -Gratitude--Without Love--Without Desire--Dead, -even to Curiosity!--How I cou’d despise -Thee for this narrowness of Mind, were there not something -in thy Eyes and Mein which assure me, that this -negligent Behaviour is but affected; and that there are -within thy Breast, some Seeds of hidden Fire, which -want but the Influence of Charms, more potent perhaps, -than you have yet beheld, to kindle into Blaze. Make -hast then to be Enliven’d, for I flatter my self ’tis in -my Power to work this wonder, and long to inspire so -Lovely a Form with Sentiments only worthy of it.--The -Bearer of this, is a Person who I dare Confide in--Delay -not to come with him, for when once you are -Taught what ’tis to Love; you’ll not be Ignorant that -doubtful Expectation is the worst of Racks, and from -your own Experience. Pity what I feel, thus chill’d -with Doubt, yet burning with Desire.</i></p> - -<p class="right">Yours, Impatiently.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> was pretty much surpriz’d at the odd -Turn of this <i>Billet</i>; but being willing to put an End -to the Ladies Trouble, as well as his own; sat down, -and without giving himself much Time to think, writ -these Lines in Answer to Hers.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">To</span> the Fair <span class="smcap">Incognita</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">If</span> you have no other design in Writing to me, than -your <span class="antiqua">Diversion</span>, methinks my Mourning Habit, to -which my Countenance and Behaviour are no way Unconformable, -might inform you, I am little dispos’d for -Raillery. If in <span class="antiqua">Earnest</span> you can find any thing in me -which pleases you, I must confess my self entirely unworthy -of the Honour, not only by my personal Demerits, -but by the Resolution I have made, of Conversing -with none of your Sex while I continue in <span class="antiqua">Italy</span>. I -shou’d be sorry however to incurr the Aspersion of an -unmannerly Contemner of Favours, which tho’ I do not -<span class="antiqua">desire</span>, I pretend not to <span class="antiqua">deserve</span>. I therefore beg you -will believe that I return this, as I did your Former, -only to let you see, that since I decline making any use -of your Condescentions to my Advantage; I am not -ungenerous enough to do so to your Prejudice, and to all -Ladies deserving the regard of a Disinterested Well-wisher; -shall be an</i></p> - -<p class="right">Humble Servant, <i>D’Elmont</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> order’d one of his Servants to deliver -this Letter to the Person who brought the other; but -he return’d immediately with it in his Hand, and told -his Lordship that he cou’d not prevail on the Fellow -to take it; that he said he had business with the <i>Count</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span> -and must needs see him, and was so Importunate, -that he seem’d rather to <i>Demand</i>, than <i>Entreat</i> a Grant -of his Request. <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span> was astonish’d, as well -he might, but commanded he should be admitted.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nothing</span> cou’d be more comical than the appearance -of this Fellow, he seem’d to be about three-score -Years of Age, but Time had not been the greatest -Enemy to his Face, for the Number of Scars, was -far exceeding that of Wrincles, he was tall above the -common Stature, but so lean, that, till he spoke, he -might have been taken for one of those Wretches who -have pass’d the Hands of the Anatomists, nor wou’d -his Walk have dissipated that Opinion, for all his Motions, -as he enter’d the Chamber, had more of the -Air of Clock-work, than of Nature; his Dress was -not less particular; he had on a Suit of Cloaths, which -might perhaps have been good in the Days of -his Great Grand-father, but the Person who they fitted -must have been five times larger about the Body -than him who wore them; a large broad buff Belt -however remedy’d that Inconvenience, and girt them -close about his Waste, in which hung a Faulchion, -two Daggers, and a Sword of a more than ordinary -Extent; the rest of his Equipage was a Cloak, which -buttoning round his Neck fell not so low as his Hips, a -Hat, which in rainy weather kept his Shoulders dry -much better than an <i>Indian</i> Umbrella, one Glove, -and a formidable pair of Whiskers. As soon as he saw -the <i>Count</i>, my Lord, said he, with a very impudent -Air, my Orders were to bring your self, not a Letter -from you, nor do I use to be employ’d in Affairs of -this Nature, but to serve one of the richest and most -beautiful Ladies in <i>Rome</i>, who I assure you, it will -be dangerous to disoblige. <i>D’elmont</i> ey’d him intentively -all the time he spoke, and cou’d scarce, notwithstanding -his Chagreen, forbear Laughing at the Figure -he made, and the manner of his Salutation. I know -not, answer’d he, Ironically, what Employments you -have been us’d to, but certainly you appear to me, one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span> -of the most unfit Persons in the World for what you -now undertake, and if the Contents of the Paper you -brought me, had not inform’d me of your Abilities -this Way, I should never have suspected you for one -of <i>Cupid</i>’s Agents: You are merry, my Lord, reply’d -the other, but I must tell you, I am a Man of Family -and Honour, and shall not put up an Affront; but, continued -he, shaking the few Hairs which frequent -Skirmishes had left upon his Head, I shall defer my -own satisfaction ’till I have procur’d the Ladies; therefore, -if your Lordship will prepare to follow, I shall -walk before, at a perceivable Distance, and without St. -<i>Peter</i>’s Key, open the Gate of Heaven. I should be apt -(said the <i>Count</i>, not able to keep his Countenance at -these Words) rather to take it for the other Place; -but be it as it will; I have not the least Inclination to -make the Experiment, therefore, you may walk as -soon as you please without expecting me to accompany -you. Then you absolutely refuse to go (cry’d the -Fellow, clapping his Hand on his Forhead, and staring -at him, as if he meant to scare him into Compliance!) -Yes (answer’d the <i>Count</i>, laughing more and more) I -shall neither go, nor waste any farther time or Words -with you, so wou’d advise you not to be saucy, or -tarry till my Anger gets the better of my Mirth, but -take the Letter and be gone, and trouble me no more. -The other, at these Words laid his Hand on his Sword, -and was about to make some very impudent Reply, -when <i>D’elmont</i>, growing weary of his Impertinence, -made a Sign to his Servants, that they should turn him -out, which he perceiving, took up the Letter without -being bid a second time, and muttering some unintelligible -Curses between his Teeth, march’d out, in -the same affected Strut, with which he enter’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> Adventure, tho’ surprizing enough to a -Person so entirely unacquainted with the Character -and Behaviour of these <i>Bravo</i>’s, as <i>D’elmont</i> was, gave -him but very little matter of Reflection, and it being<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span> -the time for Evening Service at St. <i>Peter</i>’s, he went, -according to his Custom, to hear <i>Vesper</i>’s there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nothing</span> is more Common, than for the Nobility -and Gentry of <i>Rome</i>, to divert themselves with -Walking, and talking to one another in the <i>Collonade</i> -after Mass, and the <i>Count</i>, tho’ averse to all other -publick Assemblies, wou’d sometimes spend an Hour or -two there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> he was walking there this Evening, a Lady -of a very gallant Mein pass’d swiftly by him, and -flurting out her Handkerchief with a careless Air, as -it were by Chance, drop’d an <i>Agnus Dei</i> set round -with Diamonds at his Feet, he had too much Complaisance -to neglect endeavouring to overtake the Lady, -and prevent the Pain he imagin’d she wou’d be in, -when she shou’d miss so rich a Jewel: But she, who -knew well enough what she had done, left the Walk -where the Company were, and cross’d over to the Fountain, -which being more retir’d was the most proper -for her Design: She stood looking on the Water, in -a thoughtful Posture, when the <i>Count</i> came up to her, -and bowing, with an Air peculiar to himself, and -which all his Chagreen could not deprive of an irresistable -Power of attraction, Presented the <i>Agnus Dei</i> -to her. I think my self, Madam, said he, highly indebted -to Fortune, for making me the means of your -recovering a Jewel, the Loss of which wou’d certainly -have given you some disquiet: Oh Heavens! cry’d -she, receiving it with an affected Air of Surprize, could -a Trifle like this, which I knew not that I had let fall, -nor perhaps shou’d have thought on more, cou’d this, -and belonging to a Woman too, meet the Regard of -him, who prides in his Insensibility? Him! Who has -no Eyes for Beauty, nor no Heart for Love! As she -spoke these Words she contriv’d to let her Vail fall back -as if by Accident, and discover’d a Face, Beautiful -even to Perfection! Eyes black and sparkling, a Mouth -form’d to Invite, a Skin dazlingly white, thro’ which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span> -a most delightful Bloom diffus’d a chearful Warmth, -and glow’d in amorous Blushes on her Cheeks. The -<i>Count</i> could not forbear gazing on her with Admiration, -and perhaps, was, for a Moment, pretty near receeding -from that Insensibility she had reproach’d him -with; but the Image of <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>, yet unenjoy’d, -all ravishingly Kind and Tender, rose presently in his -Soul, fill’d all his Faculties, and left no Passage free for -rival Charms. Madam, said he after a little Pause, the -<i>Italian</i> Ladies take care to skreen their too dazling -Lustre behind a Cloud, and, if I durst take that Liberty, -have certainly reason to Tax your Accusation of -Injustice; he, on whom the Sun has never vouchsafed -to shine, ought not to be condemn’d for not acknowledging -its brightness; yours is the first Female -Face I have beheld, since my Arrival here, and it wou’d -have been as ridiculous to have feign’d my self susceptible -of Charms which I had never seen, as it wou’d -be Stupidity, not to confess those I now do, worthy -Adoration. Well, resum’d she smiling, if not the -<i>Lover</i>’s, I find, you know how to Act the <i>Courtier</i>’s Part, -but continued she, looking languishingly on him, all -you can say, will scarce make me believe, that there -requires not a much brighter Sun than mine, to Thaw -a certain Frozen <i>Resolution</i>, you pretend to have made. -There need no more to confirm the <i>Count</i> in the Opinion -he had before conceiv’d, that this was the Lady -from whom he had receiv’d the two Letters that Day, -and thought he had now the fairest Opportunity in -the World to put an End to her Passion, by assuring -her how impossible it was for him ever to return it, -and was forming an Answer to that purpose; when a -pretty deal of Company coming toward them, she -drew her Vail over her Face, and turning hastily from -him, mingled with some Ladies, who seem’d to be -of her Acquaintance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> knew by experience, the unutterable -Perturbations of Suspence, and what agonizing Tortures -rend an amorous Soul, divided betwixt Hope<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span> -and Fear: Despair itself is not so Cruel as Uncertainty, -and in all Ills, especially in those of Love, it is less Misery -to <i>Know</i>, than <i>Dread</i> the worst. The Remembrance -of what he had suffer’d thus agitated, in -the Beginning of his Passion for <i>Melliora</i>, made him -extreamly pity the unknown Lady, and regret her -sudden Departure; because it had prevented him from -setting her into so much of his Circumstances, as he -believ’d were necessary to induce her to recall her -Heart. But when he consider’d how much he had -struggled, and how far he had been from being able to -repel Desire, he began to wonder that it cou’d ever enter -into his Thoughts that there was even a possibility for <i>Woman</i>, -so much stronger in her Fancy, and weaker in her -Judgment, to suppress the Influence of that powerful -Passion; against which, no Laws, no Rules, no Force -of Reason, or Philosophy, are sufficient Guard.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">These</span> Reflections gave no small Addition to his -Melancholy; <i>Amena</i>’s Retirement from the World; -<i>Alovisa</i>’s Jealousy and Death; <i>Melliora</i>’s Peace of -Mind and Reputation, and the Despair of several, whom -he was sensible, the Love of him, had rendred miserable, -came fresh into his Memory, and he look’d on -himself as most unhappy, in being the occasion of -making others so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Night which succeeded this Day of Adventures, -chancing to be abroad pretty late; as he was -passing thro’ a Street, he heard a Clashing of Swords, -and going nearer to the place where the Noise was, -he perceiv’d by some Lights which glimmer’d from a -distant Door, a Gentleman defending himself with -much Bravery against Three, who seem’d eager for -his Death. <i>D’elmont</i> was mov’d to the highest Indignation -at the sight of such Baseness; and drawing his -Sword, flew furiously on the Assassins, just as one of -them was about to run his Sword into the Breast of -the Gentleman; who, by the breaking of his own -Blade, was left unarm’d. <i>Turn Villain</i>, cry’d D’elmont, -<i>or while you are acting that Inhumanly, receive<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span> -the just Reward of it from me</i>. The Ruffian fac’d about -immediately, and made a Pass at him, while one of -his Comrades did the same on the other side; and -the third was going to execute on the Gentleman, what -his fellows Surprize had made him leave undone: But he -now gain’d Time to pull a Pistol out of his Pocket, -with which he shot him in a Moment dead, and -snatching his Sword from him as he fell, ran to -assist the <i>Count</i>, who ’tis likely wou’d have stood in -need of it, being engag’d with two, and those the -most desparate sort of <i>Bravo’s</i>, Villains that make a -Trade of Death. But the Noise of the Pistol made -them apprehensive there was a farther Rescue, and -put ’em to flight. The Gentleman seem’d agitated -with a more than ordinary Fury; and instead of staying -to Thank the <i>Count</i>, or enquire how he had escap’d, ran -in pursuit of those who had assaulted him, so swiftly, -that it was in vain for the <i>Count</i>, not being well acquainted -with the Turnings of the Streets, to attempt -to follow him, if he had a Mind to it: But seeing there -was a Man kill’d, and not knowing either the Persons -who fought, or the occasion of their Quarrel, he rightly -judg’d, that being a Stranger in the place, his Word -wou’d not be very readily taken in his own Vindication; -therefore thought his wisest Course wou’d be to -make off, with what Speed he cou’d, to his Lodging. -While he was considering, he saw something on the -Ground which glitter’d extreamly; and taking it up, -found that it was part of the Sword which the assaulted -Gentleman had the Misfortune to have broke: The -Hilt was of a fine Piece of Agate, set round on the Top -with Diamonds, which made him believe the Person -whom he had preserv’d, was of considerable Quality, -as well as Bravery.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> had not gone many Paces from the place where -the Skirmish happened, before a Cry of Murder met -his Ears, and a great Concourse of People his Eyes: -He had receiv’d two or three slight Wounds, which,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span> -tho’ not much more than Skin-deep, had made his Linnen -bloody, and he knew wou’d be sufficient to make -him be apprehended, if he were seen, which it was -very difficult to avoid: He was in a narrow Street, -which had no Turning, and the Crowd was very near -him, when looking round him with a good deal of -Vexation in his Thoughts, he discern’d a Wall, which -in one part of it seem’d pretty low: He presently resolv’d -to climb it, and trust to Fortune for what might -befall him on the other side, rather than stay to be expos’d -to the Insults of the Outrageous Mob; who, ignorant -of his Quality, and looking no farther than the -outside of Things, wou’d doubtless have consider’d him -no otherwise, than a Midnight <i>Rioter</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> he was got over the Wall, he found himself -in a very fine Garden, adorn’d with Fountains, -Statues, Groves, and every Ornament, that Art, or -Nature, cou’d produce, for the Delight of the Owner: -At the upper End there was a Summer-house, into -which he went, designing to stay ’till the Search was -over.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> He had not been many Moments in his Concealment -before he saw a Door open from the House, -and two Women come out; they walk’d directly up -to the place where he was; he made no doubt but that -they design’d to enter, and retir’d into the farthest Corner -of it: As they came pretty near, he found they -were earnest in Discourse, but cou’d understand nothing -of what they said, ’till she, who seem’d to be the Chief, -raising her Voice a little higher than she had done: -Talk no more, <i>Brione</i> said she, if e’re thy Eyes are -Blest to see this Charmer of my Soul, thou wil’t cease -to wonder at my Passion; great as it is, ’tis wanting -of his Merit.----Oh! He is more than Raptur’d Poets -feign, or Fancy can invent! Suppose Him so, (<i>cry’d -the other</i>,) yet still he wants that Charm which shou’d -Endear the others to you---Softness,---Heavens! To -Return your Letters! To Insult your Messenger! To -slight such Favours as any Man of Soul wou’d die to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span> -obtain! Methinks such Usage shou’d make him odious -to you,---even I shou’d scorn so spiritless a Wretch. -Peace, thou Prophaner, <i>said the Lady in an angry -Tone</i>, such Blasphemy deserves a Stab----But thou -hast never heard his Voice, nor seen his Eyes, and -I forgive Thee. Have you then spoke to him, <i>interrupted -the Confidant</i>, Yes, <i>answer’d the Lady</i>, and -by that Conversation, am more undone than ever; it -was to tell thee this Adventure, I came to Night into -this agreeable Solitude. With these Words they came -into the Summer-house, and the Lady seating her -self on a Bench; Thou know’st, <i>resum’d she</i>, I went -this Evening to Saint <i>Peter</i>’s, there I saw the glorious -Man; saw him in all his Charms; and while I bow’d -my Knee, in show to Heaven, my Soul was prostrate -only to him. When the Ceremony was over, perceiving -he stay’d in the <i>Collonade</i>, I had no power to -leave it, but stood, regardless who observ’d me, gazing -on him with Transports, which only those who -Love like me, can guess!---God! With what an Air -he walk’d! What new Attractions dwelt in every Motion---And -when he return’d the Salutes of any that -pass’d by him, how graceful was his Bow! How -lofty his Mein, and yet, how affable!----A sort -of an inexpressible awful Grandeur, blended with -tender Languishments, strikes the amaz’d Beholder at -once with Fear and Joy!---Something beyond Humanity -shines round him! Such looks descending Angels -wear, when sent on Heavenly Embassies to some -Favourite Mortal! Such is their Form! Such Radient -Beams they dart; and with such Smiles they temper -their Divinity with Softness!---Oh! With what Pain -did I restrain my self from flying to him! from -rushing into his Arms! From hanging on his -Neck, and wildly uttering all the furious Wishes -of my burning Soul!-----I trembled-----panted----rag’d -with inward Agonies. Nor was all the Reason -I cou’d muster up, sufficient to bear me from -his Sight, without having first spoke to him. To that -end I ventur’d to pass by him, and drop’d an <i>Agnus<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span> -Dei</i> at his Feet, believing that wou’d give him an Occasion -of following me, which he did immediately, and -returning it to me, discover’d a new Hoard of unimagin’d -Charms----All my fond Soul confess’d before -of his Perfections, were mean to what I now -beheld! Had’st thou but seen how he approach’d me--with -what an awful Reverence---with what a soft beseeching, -yet commanding Air, he kiss’d the happy Trifle, -as he gave it me, thou would’st have envy’d it as well as -I! At last he spoke, and with an Accent so Divine, that if -the sweetest Musick were compar’d to the more Celestial -Harmony of his Voice, it wou’d only serve to -prove how vastly <i>Nature</i> do’s excell all <i>Art</i>. But, -Madam, <i>cry’d the other</i>, I am impatient to know the -End of this Affair; for I presume you discover’d to -him both what, and who you were? My Face -only, reply’d the Lady, for e’re I had opportunity to -do more, that malicious Trifler, <i>Violetta</i>, perhaps -envious of my Happiness, came toward us with a -Crowd of Impertinents at her Heels. Curse on the -Interruption, and broke off our Conversation, just at -that Blest, but Irrecoverable Moment, when I perceiv’d -in my Charming Conqueror’s Eyes, a growing -Tenderness, sufficient to encourage me to reveal my -own. Yes, <i>Brione</i>, those lovely Eyes, while fix’d on -mine, shone, with a Lustre, uncommon, even to -themselves---A livelier Warmth o’erspread his Cheeks----Pleasure -sat smiling on his Lips----those Lips, -my Girl, which even when they are silent, speak; -but when unclos’d, and the sweet Gales of balmy -Breath blow on you, he kills you in a Sigh; each -hurry’d Sense is ravish’d and your Soul glows with -Wonder and Delight. Oh! To be forc’d to leave him -in this Crisis, when new desire began to dawn; when -Love its most lively Symptoms was apparent, and -seem’d to promise all my Wishes covet, what Separation -ever was so cruel? Compose your self, dear -Madam, said <i>Brione</i>, if he be really in Love; as who -so Insensible as not to be so, that once has seen your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span> -Charms? That <i>Love</i> will teach him speedily to find -out an opportunity as favourable as that which you -have lately miss’d; or if he shou’d want Contrivance -to procure his own Happiness, ’tis but your writing -to appoint a Meeting. He must---He shall be mine! -Cry’d the Lady in a Rapture, My Love, fierce as it -was before, from Hope receives Addition to its Fury; -I rave---I burn---I am mad with wild Desires---I -die, <i>Brione</i>, if I not possess him. In speaking these -Words, she threw her self down on a Carpet which -was spread upon the Floor; and after sighing two or -three times, continued to discover the Violence of her -impatient Passion in this manner: Oh that this Night, -said she, were past,---the Blisful Expectation of to -morrows Joys, and the distracting Doubts of Disappointment, -swell my unequal beating Heart by turns, -and rack me with Vicissitudes of Pain-----I cannot -live and bear it----soon as the Morning breaks, I’ll -know my Doom----I’ll send to him----but ’tis an -Age till then----Oh that I cou’d sleep---Sleep might -perhaps anticipate the Blessing, and bring him in Idea -to my Arms----but ’tis in vain to hope one Moment’s -cool Serenity in Love like mine--my anxious Thoughts -hurry my Senses in Eternal Watchings!---Oh <i>D’elmont! -D’elmont!</i> Tranquill, Cold, and Calm <i>D’elmont!</i> -Little doest thou guess the Tempest thou hast -rais’d within my Soul, nor know’st to pity these consuming -Fires!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> list’ned to all this Discourse with a -World of Uneasiness and Impatience; and tho’ at the -first he fancy’d he remember’d the Voice, and had -Reason enough from the beginning, especially when -the <i>Agnus Dei</i> was mention’d, to believe it cou’d be -no other than himself, whom the Lady had so passionately -describ’d; yet he had not Confidence to appear till -she had nam’d him; but then, no consideration was -of force to make him neglect this opportunity of undeceiving -her; his good Sense, as well as good Nature, -kept him from that Vanity, too many of his Sex imitate<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span> -the weaker in, of being pleas’d that it was in his -Power to create Pains, which it was not in his Power, -so devoted as he was, to Ease.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> stept from his Retirement as softly as he cou’d, -because he was loath to alarm them with any Noise, -’till they shou’d discover who it was that made it, -which they might easily do, in his advancing toward -them never so little, that part of the Bower -being much lighter than that where he had stood; -but with his over-caution in sliding his Feet along, -to prevent being heard, one of them tangled in the -Corner of the Carpet, which happened not to lie very -smooth, and not being sensible presently what it was -that Embarrass’d him: He fell with part of his Body -cross the Lady, and his Head in <i>Brione</i>’s Lap, who -was sitting on the Ground by her. The Manner of -his Fall was lucky enough, for it hinder’d either -of them from rising, and running to alarm the Family, -as certainly in such a fright they wou’d have -done, if his Weight had not detain’d them; they both -gave a great Shriek, but the House being at a good -distance, they cou’d not easily be heard; and he immediately -recovering himself, beg’d Pardon for the -Terror he had occasion’d them; and addressing to the -Lady, who at first was dying with her Fears, and now -with Consternation: <i>D’elmont</i>, Madam, said he, cou’d -not have had the Assurance to appear before you, after -hearing those undeserv’d Praises your Excess of -Goodness has been pleas’d to bestow upon him, but -that his Soul wou’d have reproach’d him of the highest -Ingratitude, in permitting you to continue longer -in an Error, which may involve you in the greatest of -Misfortunes, at least I am----As he was speaking, -three or four Servants with Lights came running -from the House; and the Lady, tho’ in more Confusion -than can be well exprest, had yet Presence of -Mind enough to bid the <i>Count</i> retire to the place -where he had stood before, while she and <i>Brione</i> went -out of the Summer-house to learn the Cause of this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span> -Interruption: Madam, cry’d one of the Servants, as -soon as he saw her, the Officers of Justice are within; -who being rais’d by an Alarm of Murther, come to -beg your Ladyships Permission to search your Garden, -being, as they say, inform’d that the Offender -made his Escape over this Wall. ’Tis very improbable, -reply’d the Lady, for I have been here a considerable -Time, and have neither heard the least Noise, nor -seen any Body: However they may search, and satisfy -themselves----go you, and tell them so. Then -turning to the <i>Count</i>, when she had dismiss’d her Servants; -My Lord, said she Trembling, I know not -what strange Adventure brought you here to Night, -or whether you are the Person for whom the -Search is made; but am sensible, if you are found -here, it will be equally injurious to your Safety, and -my Reputation; I have a Back-door, thro’ which -you may pass in Security: But, if you have Honour, -(continu’d she) Sighing, Gratitude, or good Nature, you -will let me see you to morrow Night. Madam, (reply’d -he,) assure your self that there are not many things -I more earnestly desire than an opportunity to convince -you, how sensibly I am touch’d with your Favours, -and how much I regret my want of Power -to---you, (interrupted she,) can want nothing but the -<i>Will</i> to make me the happiest of my Sex---but this -is no Time for you to <i>Give</i>, or me to <i>Receive</i> any -Proofs of that Return which I expect----Once -more I conjure you to be here to morrow Night at -Twelve, where the Faithful <i>Brione</i> shall attend to admit -you. Farewell---be punctual and sincere--’Tis -all I ask---when I am not, (answer’d he,) may all my -Hopes forsake me. By this time they were come to -the Door, which <i>Brione</i>, opening softly, let him out, -and shut it again immediately.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> took care to Remark the place that he -might know it again, resolving nothing more than -to make good his Promise at the appointed Hour, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span> -cou’d not help being extreamly troubled, when he -consider’d how unwelcome his Sincerity wou’d be, -and the Confusion he must give the Lady, when instead -of those Raptures the Violence of her mistaken -Passion made her hope, she shou’d meet with only -cold Civility, and the killing History of the Pre-engagement -of his Heart. In these and the like melancholly -Reflections he spent the Night; and when -Morning came, receiv’d the severest Augmentation -of them, which Fate cou’d load him with.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was scarce full Day when a Servant came into -his Chamber to acquaint him, that a young Gentleman, -a Stranger, desir’d to be admitted, and seem’d -so impatient till he was, That, said the Fellow, not -knowing of what Consequence his Business may be, -I thought it better to Risque your Lordship’s Displeasure -for this early Disturbance, than by dismissing -him, fill you with an unsatisfy’d Curiosity. The -<i>Count</i> was far from being Angry, and commanded -that the Gentleman should be brought up, which -Order being immediately obey’d, and the Servant withdrawn -out of Respect: Putting his Head out of the -Bed, he was surpriz’d with the Appearance of one -of the most beautiful <i>Chevaliers</i> he had ever beheld, -and in whose Face, he imagin’d he trac’d some Features -not Unknown to him. Pardon, me Sir, said -he, throwing the Curtains more back than they were -before, that I receive the Honour you do me, in this -manner---but being ignorant of your Name, Quality, -the Reason of your desire to see me, or any thing -but your Impatience to do so, in gratifying that, I -fear, I have injur’d the Respect, which I believe, is -due, and which, I am sure, my Heart is inclinable -to pay to you. Visits, like mine, reply’d the Stranger, -require but little Ceremony, and I shall easily remit -that Respect you talk of, while I am unknown to you, -provided you will give me one Mark of it, that I shall -ask of you, when you do. There are very few, reply’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span> -<i>D’elmont</i>, that I cou’d refuse to one, whose Aspect -Promises to deserve so many. First then, cry’d the -other pretty warmly, I demand a Sister of you, and -not only her, but a Reparation of her Honour, which -can be done no otherwise than by your Blood. It is -impossible to represent the <i>Count</i>’s astonishment at -these Words, but conscious of his Innocence in any -such Affair: I shou’d be sorry <i>Seignior</i>, said he cooly, -that Precipitation should hurry you to do any Action you -wou’d afterwards Repent; you must certainly be mistaken -in the Person to whom you are talking--Yet, if I -were rash like you, what fatal Consequences might ensue; -but there is something in your Countenance which engages -me to wish a more friendly Interview than what you -speak of: Therefore wou’d persuade you to consider -calmly, and you will soon find, and acknowledge your Mistake; -and, to further that Reflection, I assure you, -that I am so far from Conversing with any Lady, in -the Manner you seem to hint, that I scarcely know -the Name, or Face of any one.---Nay, more, I give -you my Word, to which I joyn my Honour, that, as -I never <i>have</i>, I never <i>will</i> make the least Pretensions -of that kind to any Woman during the Time of my -Residence here. This poor Evasion, reply’d the Stranger -with a Countenance all inflam’d, ill suits a Man of -Honour.---This is no <i>Roman</i>, no, <i>Italian Bono-Roba</i>, -who I mean----but <i>French</i> like you----like both of -us.----And if your Ingratitude had not made it necessary -for your Peace, to erace all Memory of <i>Monsieur -Frankville</i>, you wou’d before now, by the near resemblance -I bear to him, have known me for his Son, -and that ’tis <i>Melliora</i>’s---the fond---the lost---the -ruin’d <i>Melliora</i>’s Cause which calls for Vengeance from -her Brother’s Arm! Never was any Soul agitated with -more violent Emotions, than that of Count <i>D’elmont</i> -at these Words. Doubt, Grief, Resentment, and -Amazement, made such a Confusion in his Thoughts, -that he was unable for some Moments to answer this -cruel Accusation; and when he did, the Brother of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span> -<i>Melliora</i> said he with a deep Sigh, wou’d certainly -have been, next to her self, the most welcome Person -upon Earth to me; and my Joy to have Embrac’d -him as the dearest of my Friends, at least have equall’d -the Surprize I am in, to find him without Cause, my -Enemy.---But, Sir, if such a Favour may be granted -to an unwilling Foe, I wou’d desire to know, Why -you joyn <i>Ruin</i> to your Sisters Name? Oh! Give me -Patience Heaven, cry’d young <i>Frankville</i> more enrag’d; -is this a Question fit for you to ask, or me to Answer? -Is not her Honour Tainted---Fame betray’d.---Her -self a Vagabond, and her House abus’d, and all by -you; the unfaithful Guardian of her injur’d Innocence?---And -can you ask the Cause?----No, rather rise -this Moment, and if you are a Man, who dare maintain -the ill you have done, defend it with your Sword; -not with vain Words and Womanish Excuses: All the -other Passions which had warr’d within <i>D’elmont</i>’s -Breast, now gave way to Indignation: Rash young -Man, said he, jumping hastily out of the Bed, and beginning -to put his Cloaths on: Your Father wou’d not -thus have us’d me; nor, did he Live, cou’d blame me, -for vindicating as I ought my wounded Honour----That -I do Love your Sister, is as True, as that you have -wrong’d me---Basely wrong’d me. But that her -Virtue suffers by that Love, is false! And I must write -the Man that speaks it, <i>Lyar</i>, tho’ in her Brother’s -Heart. Many other violent Expressions to the same -Effect, pass’d between them, while the <i>Count</i> was -dressing himself, for he wou’d suffer no Servant -to come in, to be Witness of his Disorder. But the -steady Resolution with which he had attested his Innocence, -and that inexpressible sweetness of Deportment, -equally Charming to both Sexes, and which, -not even <i>Anger</i> cou’d render less graceful, extreamly -cool’d the Heat <i>Frankville</i> had been in a little before, -and he in secret, began to recede very much from -the ill Opinion he had conceiv’d, tho’ the greatness of -his Spirit kept him from acknowledging he had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span> -in an Error; ’till chancing to cast his Eyes on a Table -which stood in the Chamber, he saw the hilt of the -broken Sword which <i>D’elmont</i> had brought home -the Night before, lying on it; he took it up, and having -first look’d on it with some Confusion in his -Countenance. My Lord, said he, turning to the <i>Count</i>, -I conjure you, before we proceed further, to acquaint -me truely, how this came into your Possession, Tho’ -<i>D’elmont</i> had as great a Courage, when any laudable -Occasion appear’d to call it forth, as any Man that ever -liv’d, yet his natural Disposition had such an uncommon -Sweetness in it, as no Provocation cou’d sowre; -it was always a much greater Pleasure to him to <i>Forgive</i> -than <i>Punish</i> Injuries; and if at any time he was -<i>Angry</i>, he was never <i>Rude</i>, or <i>Unjust</i>. The little -starts of Passion, <i>Frankville</i>’s rash Behaviour had occasion’d, -all dissolv’d in his more accustomary Softness, -when he perceiv’d the other growing Calm. And -answering to his Question, with the most obliging -Accent in the World: It was my good Fortune, (said -he) to be instrumental last Night, in the Rescue of a -Gentleman who appear’d to have much Bravery, and -being Attack’d by odds, behav’d himself in such a -Manner, as wou’d have made him stand but little in -need of my Assistance, if his Sword had been equal -to the Arm which held it; but the breaking of that, -gave me the Glory of not being unserviceable to him. -After the Skirmish was over, I took it up, hoping -it might be the means sometime or other of my discovering -who the Person was, who wore it; not out -of Vanity of receiving Thanks for the little I have -done, but that I shou’d be glad of the Friendship of -a Person, who seems so worthy my Esteem. Oh -far! (cry’d <i>Frankville</i>, with a Tone and Gesture quite -alter’d,) infinitely far from it--It was my self whom -you preserv’d; that very Man whose Life you but last -Night so generously redeem’d, with the hazard of -your own, comes now prepar’d to make the first use -of it against you---Is it possible that you can be so -heavenly good to Pardon my wild Passions Heat? Let<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span> -this be witness, with what Joy I do, answer’d the -<i>Count</i>, tenderly Embracing him, which the other eagerly -returning; they continu’d lock’d in each others -Arms for a considerable Time, neither of them being -able to say more, than---And was it <i>Frankville</i> -I Preserv’d!----And was it to <i>D’elmont</i> I owe my -Life!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> this mutual Demonstration of a perfect -Reconcilement was over: See here, my Lord, said -<i>Frankville</i>, giving a Paper to the <i>Count</i>, the occasion -of my Rashness, and let my just concern for a Sisters -Honour, be at least some little Mittigation of my Temerity, -in accosting your Lordship in so rude a Manner. -<i>D’elmont</i> made no Answer, but looking hastily -over the Paper found it contain’d these Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">To</span> Monsieur <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">While</span> your Sisters Dishonour was known but -to few, and the injurious Destroyer of it, out -of the reach of your Revenge; I thought it would ill -become the Friendship I have always profess’d to your -Family, to disquiet you with the Knowledge of a Misfortune, -which it was no way in your Power to Redress.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">But</span> Count D’elmont, having by the Solicitation -of his Friends, and the remembrance of some slight -Services, obtain’d a Pardon from the KING, for the -Murder of his Wife; has since taken but little care to -conceal the Reasons which induc’d him to that barbarous -Action; and all <span class="antiqua">Paris</span> is now sensible that he made that -unhappy Lady’s Life a Sacrifice to the more attractive<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span> -Beauties of <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span>, in bloody Recompence for the Sacrifice -she had before made him of her Virtue.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">In</span> short, the Noble Family of the Frankvilles is for -ever dishonour’d by this Unfaithful <span class="antiqua">Guardian</span>; and all -who wish you well, rejoice to hear that his ill Genius -has led him to a place which, if he knew you were at, -certainly Prudence wou’d make him of all others most -avoid; for none believes you will so far degenerate from -the Spirit of your Ancestors, as to permit him to go unpunish’d.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">In</span> finding the <span class="antiqua">Count</span>, you may probably find your -Sister too; for tho’, after the Death of <span class="antiqua">Alovisa</span>, shame -made her retire to a Monastry, she has since privately -left it without acquainting the <span class="antiqua">Abbess</span>, or any of the -Sisterhood, with her Departure; nor is it known to any -one, where, or for what Cause she absconds; but most -People imagine, as indeed it is highly reasonable, that -the Violence of her guilty Passion for <span class="antiqua">D’elmont</span> has engag’d -her to follow him.</i></p> - -<p><i>I am not unsensible how much I shock your Temper -by this Relation, but have too much real concern for -your Honour, to endure you shou’d, thro’ Ignorance of -your Wrongs, remain Passive in such a Cause, and -perhaps hug the Treacherous Friend in your most strict -Embrace? Nor can I forbear, tho’ I love not Blood, -urging you to take that just Revenge, which next to -Heaven you have the greatest Claim to.</i></p> - -<p class="center">I am, Sir, with all due Respect,</p> - -<p class="right">Yours, <i>Sanseverin</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Count</i> swell’d with Indignation at every Paragraph -of this malicious Letter; but when he came to -that, which mention’d <i>Melliora</i>’s having withdrawn her -self from the Monastry, he seem’d to be wholly abandon’d -by his Reason; all Endeavours to represent his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span> -Agonies wou’d be vain, and none but those who have -felt the same, can have any Notion of what he suffer’d. -He read the fatal Scroll again and again, and every -time grew wilder than before; he stamp’d, bit his -Lips, look’d furiously about him, then, starting from -the place where he had stood, measur’d the Room in -strange, disorder’d, and unequal Paces; all his Motions, -all his Looks, all his Air were nothing but Distraction: -He spoke not for some time, one Word, either -prevented by the rising Passions in his Soul, or -because it was not in the Power of Language to express -the greatness of his Meaning; and when, at last, -he open’d his Mouth, it was but to utter half Sentences, -and broken Complainings: Is it possible, he cry’d,----gone,---left -the Monastry unknown---and then -again----false----false Woman?----Wretched----wretched -Man! There’s no such Thing on Earth as -Faith---is this the Effect of all her tender Passion?--So -soon forgot---what can be her Reason?---This -Action suits not with her Words, or Letters. In this -manner he rav’d with a Thousand such like Breathings -of a tormented Spirit, toss’d and confounded between -various Sentiments.</p> - -<p>Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> stood for a good while silently -observing him; and if before, he were not perfectly -assur’d of his Innocence, the Agonies he now saw him -in, which were too natural to be suspected for Counterfeit, -entirely convinc’d him he was so. When the -first gust of Passion was blown over, and he perceiv’d -any likelyhood of being heard, he said a Thousand -tender and obliging Things to perswade him to Moderation, -but to very little Effect, till finding, that that -which gave him the most stinging Reflection was, -the Belief that <i>Melliora</i> had forsook the Monastry, either -because she thought of him no more, and was -willing to divert her enfranchis’d Inclination with the -Gaieties of the Town, or that some happier Man had -supplanted him in her Esteem. Judge not, my Lord,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span> -(said he) so rashly of my Sister’s Fidelity, nor know -so little of your own unmatch’d Perfections, as to -suspect that she, who is Blest with your Affection, -can consider any other Object as worthy her Regard; -For my part, since your Lordship <i>knows</i>, and I firmly -<i>believe</i>, that this Letter contains a great many Untruths, -I see no Reason why we should not imagine -it all of a piece: I declare I think it much more improbable -that she should leave the Monastry, unless sollicited -thereto by you, than that she had the Power to deny you -any thing your Passion might request. The <i>Count</i>’s Disorder -visibly abated at this Remonstrance; and stepping -hastily to his Cabinet, he took out the last Letter -he receiv’d from <i>Melliora</i>, and found it was dated -but two Days before that from Monsieur <i>Sanseverin</i>; -he knew she had not Art, nor was accustom’d to endeavour -to disguise her Sentiments; and she had written -so many tender things in that, as when he gave -himself leave to consider, he could not, without believing -her to be either the most Dissembling, or most -fickle of her Sex, continue in the Opinion which had -made him, a few Moments before, so uneasy, that -she was no longer, what she always subscrib’d her -self, <i>Entirely His</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Tempest of Rage and Grief being hush’d to -a little more Tranquillity, Count <i>D’elmont</i>, to remove -all Scruples which might be <i>yet</i> remaining in the Breast -of Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>, entertain’d him with the -whole History of his Adventures, from the Time of -his Gallantry with <i>Amena</i>, to the Misfortunes which -had induc’d him to Travel, disguising nothing of the -Truth, but some part of the Discourses which had -pass’d between him and <i>Melliora</i> that Night when he -surpriz’d her in her Bed, and in the Wilderness: For -tho’ he freely confess’d the Violence of his own unbounded -Passion, had hurry’d him beyond all Considerations -but those of gratifying it; yet he was too -tender of <i>Melliora</i>’s Honour, to relate anything of her,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span> -which her Modesty might not acknowledge, without -the Expence of a Blush.</p> - -<p><i>Frankville</i> list’ned with abundance of Attention to -the Relation he made him, and could find very little -in his Conduct to accuse: He was himself too much -susceptible of the Power of Love, not to have Compassion -for those that suffer’d by it, and had too great -a share of good Sense not to know that, that Passion -is not to be Circumscrib’d; and being not only, not -<i>Subservient</i>, but absolutely <i>Controller</i> of the <i>Will</i>, -it would be meer Madness, as well as ill Nature, to -say a Person was Blame-worthy for what was unavoidable.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Love once becomes in our Power, it ceases -to be worthy of that Name; no Man really possest -with it, <i>can</i> be Master of his Actions; and whatever -Effects it may Enforce, are no more to be Condemn’d, -than Poverty, Sickness, Deformity, or any -other Misfortune incident to Humane Nature. Methinks -there is nothing more absur’d than the Notions -of some People, who in other Things are wise -enough too; but wanting Elegance of Thought, Delicacy, -or Tenderness of Soul, to receive the Impression -of that harmonious Passion, look on those to be -mad, who have any Sentiments elevated above their -own, and either Censure, or Laugh, at what they are -not refin’d enough to comprehend. These <i>Insipids</i>, -who know nothing of the Matter, tell us very gravely, -that we <i>ought</i> to Love with Moderation and Discretion,---and -take Care that it is for our Interest,--that -we should never place our Affections, but where -Duty leads, or at least, where neither Religion, Reputation, -or Law, may be a Hindrance to our Wishes.---Wretches! -We know all this, as well as they; -we know too, that we both do, and leave undone -many other Things, which we ought not; but Perfection -is not to be expected on this side the Grave: -And since ’tis impossible for Humanity to avoid Frailties<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span> -of some kind or other, those are certainly least -blamable, which spring only from a too great Affluence -of the nobler Spirits. <i>Covetousness</i>, <i>Envy</i>, <i>Pride</i>, -<i>Revenge</i>, are the Effects of an Earthly, Base, and Sordid -Nature, <i>Ambition</i>, and <i>Love</i>, of an Exalted one; and -if they are Failings, they are such as plead their own -Excuse, and can never want Forgiveness from a generous -Heart, provided no indirect Courses are taken -to procure the Ends of the <i>former</i>, nor Inconstancy, or -Ingratitude, stain the Beauty of the <i>latter</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Notwithstanding</span> all that Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> -could say, the <i>Count</i>, tho’ not in the Rage of -Temper he had been in, was yet very melancholly; -which the other perceiving, Alas, my Lord, said he -Sighing, if you were sensible of the Misfortunes of -others, you would think your own more easy to be -born: You Love, and are Belov’d; no Obstacle remains -between you and your Desires; but the Formality of -Custom, which a little time will Remove, and at -your return to <i>Paris</i> you will doubtless be happy, if -’tis in my Sister’s Power to make you so: You have -a sure Prospect of Felicity to <i>come</i>, but mine is <i>past</i>, -never, I fear, to be retriev’d. What mean you? Cry’d -the <i>Count</i> pretty much surpriz’d at his Words, and -the Change which he observ’d in his Countenance; -I am in Love! Reply’d He, Belov’d! Nay, have Enjoy’d----Ay, -there’s the Source of my Despair----I -know the Heaven I have lost, and that’s my Hell.----The -Interest <i>D’elmont</i> had in his Concerns, as being -Son to the Man whom he had loved with a kind of filial -Affection, and Brother to the Woman whom he ador’d -above the World, made him extreamly desirous to know -what the Occasion of his Disquiet was, and having exprest -himself to that purpose; I shall make no Difficulty, -reply’d <i>Frankville</i>, to reveal the Secret of my -Love, to him who is a Lover, and knows so well, -how to pity, and forgive, the Errors which that Passion -will sometimes lead us into. The <i>Count</i> was too impatient -to hear the Relation he was about to give him,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span> -to make any other Answer to these Words than with a -half Smile; which the other perceiving, without any -farther Prelude, began to satisfy his Curiosity in this -manner.</p> - -<h3><i>The History of Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">You</span> know, my Lord, said he, that I was bred -at <i>Rheims</i> with my Uncle, the Bishop of that -Place, and continu’d with him, till after, prompted -by Glory, and hope of that Renown you have since -so gallantly acquir’d; you left the Pleasures of the -<i>Court</i> for the Fatigues and Dangers of the Field: When -I came home, I never ceas’d solliciting my Father to -permit me to Travel, ’till weary’d with my continual -Importunies, and perhaps, not much displeas’d with -my Thirst of Improvement, he at last gave leave. I -left <i>Paris</i> a little before the Conclusion of the Peace, -and by that means remain’d wholly a Stranger to your -Lordship’s Person, tho’ perfectly acquainted with those -admirable Accomplishments which Fame is every where -so full of.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> been in the Courts of <i>England</i>, <i>Spain</i>, and -<i>Portugal</i>, but nothing very material hapning to me -in any of those Places, it would be rather Impertinent, -than Diverting, to defer, for Trifles, the main Business -of my Life, that of my Love, which had not a -Being ’till I came into this City.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">I had</span> been here but a little Time before I had a -great many Acquaintance, among the Number of them, -was Seignior <i>Jaques Honorius Cittolini</i>: He, of all the -rest, I was most intimate with; and tho’ to the Generality -of People he behav’d himself with an Air of -Imperiousness, he was to me, all free, and easy; he -seem’d as if he took a Pleasure in Obliging me; carry’d -me every where with him; introduc’d me to the best -Company: When I was absent he spoke of me, as of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span> -a Person who he had the highest Esteem for; and -when I was present, if there were any in Company -whose rank oblig’d him to place them above me in -the <i>Room</i>; he took care to testify that I was not below -them in his <i>Respect</i>; in fine, he was never more -happy than when he was giving me some Proof how -much he was my Friend; and I was not a little satisfy’d -that a Man of almost twice my Years should -believe me qualify’d for his Companion in such a manner -as he made me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the melancholly Account of my Fathers -Death came to my Ears, he omitted nothing to persuade -me to sell my Estate in <i>France</i>, and settle in <i>Rome</i>; -he told me he had a Daughter, whose Heart had been -the aim of the chiefest Nobility; but that he wou’d -buy my Company at that Price and to keep me here, -wou’d give me her. This Proposition was not altogether -so pleasing to me, as perhaps, he imagin’d it -wou’d be: I had heard much Talk or this Lady’s Beauty, -but I had never seen her; and at that Time, -Love was little in my Thoughts, especially that sort -which was to end in Marriage. However, I wou’d -not absolutely refuse his Offer, but evaded it, which -I had the better pretence for, because <i>Violetta</i>, (so was -his Daughter call’d) was gone to <i>Vitterbo</i> to Visit a -sick Relation, and I cou’d not have the opportunity of -seeing her. In the mean time, he made me acquainted -with his deepest Secrets; among many other Things he -told me, that tho’ their Family was one of the greatest -in <i>Rome</i>, yet by the too great Liberality of his Father, -himself and one Sister was left with very little to Support -the Grandeur of their Birth; but that his Sister -who was acknowledg’d a Woman of an uncommon -Beauty, had the good Fortune to appear so, to Seignior -<i>Marcarius Fialasco</i>: he was the possessor of immense -Riches, but very Old; but the young Lady found -Charms enough in his Wealth to ballance all other Deficiencies; -She Married, and Buried him in a Month’s -Time, and he dy’d so full of fondness to his lovely -Bride; that he left her Mistress of all he had in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span> -World; giving only to a Daughter he had by a former -Wife, the Fortune which her Mother had brought him, -and that too, and herself to be dispos’d of, in Marriage, -as this Triumphant Widow should think fit; and -she, like a kind Sister, thought none worthy of that -Alliance, but her Brother; and in a few Days he said, -he did not doubt but that I shou’d see him a Bridegroom. -I ask’d him if he was happy enough to have -made an Interest in the young Lady’s Heart; and he -very frankly answer’d, That he was not of a Humour -to give himself much uneasiness about it, since it was -wholly in his Sister’s Power to make him Master of -her Person, and she resolv’d to do that, or Confine her -in a Monastry for ever. I cou’d not help feeling a -Compassionate concern for this Lady, tho’ she was a -Stranger to me, for I cou’d not believe, so Beautiful -and accomplish’d a Woman, as he had often describ’d -her to be, cou’d find any thing in her design’d Husband -which cou’d make this Match agreeable. Nothing -can be more different from Graceful, than the -Person of <i>Cittolini</i>; he is of a black swarthy Complexion, -hook’d-Nos’d, wall Ey’d, short of Stature; and tho’ -he is very Lean, the worst shap’d Man I ever saw; -then for his Temper, as friendly as he behav’d to me, -I discern’d a great deal of Treachery, and Baseness in -it to others; a perpetual peevishness and Pride appear’d -in his Deportment to all those who had any dependance -on him: And I had been told by some who -knew him perfectly well, that his cruel Usage of his -first Lady had been the means of her Death; but this -was none of my Business, and tho’ I pity’d the Lady, -yet my gratitude to him engag’d me to wish him Success -in all his Undertakings. ’Till one Day, unluckily -both for him and me, as it has since prov’d; he -desir’d me to Accompany him to the House of <i>Ciamara</i>, -for so is his Sister call’d, being, willing I suppose, -that I shou’d be a Witness of the extraordinary -State she liv’d in; and indeed, in all the Courts I had -been at, I never saw any thing more Magnificent than -her Apartments; the vast quantity of Plate; the Richness<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span> -of the Furniture; and the number of Servants attending -on Her, might have made her be taken rather -for a Princess, than a private Woman. There was a -very noble Collation, and she sat at Table with us -her self, a particular Favour from an <i>Italian</i> Lady: -She is by many Years younger than her Brother, and -extreamly Handsome; but has, I know not what, of -fierceness in her Eyes, which renders her, at least to -me, a Beauty, without a Charm. After the Entertainment, -<i>Cittolini</i> took me into the Gardens, which -were answerable to what I had seen within, full of -Curiosities; at one end there was a little Building of -Marble, to which he led me, and entering into it, see -here, <i>Monsieur</i>, said he, the Place where my Sister -spends the greatest part of her Hours, and tell me if -’tis in this kind of Diversion that the <i>French</i> Ladies -take Delight. I presently saw it was full of Books, -and guess’d those Words were design’d as a Satyr on -our Ladies, whose disposition to Gallantry seldom affords -much time for Reading; but to make as good -a Defence for their Honour as I was able. <i>Seignior</i>, -reply’d I, it must be confest, that there are very few Ladies -of any Nation, who think the <i>Acquisition</i> of Knowledge, -worth the Pains it must cost them in the <i>Search</i>, -but that ours is not without some Examples, that all -are not of that Mind; our famous <i>D’anois</i>, and <i>D’acier</i> -may evince. Well, Well, interrupted he laughing; -the propensity which that Sex bears to Learning is so -trifling, that I shall not pretend to hold any Argument -on its Praise; nor did I bring you here so much -to engage you to Admire my Sisters manner of Amusement, -as to give you an Opportunity of diverting -your self, while I go to pay a Compliment to my Mistress; -who, tho’ I have a very great Confidence in -you, I dare not trust with the sight of so accomplish’d -a <i>Chevalier</i>. With these Words he left me, and I, -designing to do as he had desir’d; turn’d to the Shelves -to take down what Book I cou’d find most suitable -to my Humour; but good God! As I was tumbling -them over, I saw thro’ a Window which look’d into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span> -a Garden behind the Study; tho’ both belonging to one -Person: A Woman, or rather Angel, coming down a -Walk directly opposite to where I was, never did I -see in one Person such various Perfections blended, -never did any Woman wear so much of her Soul in -her Eyes, as did this Charmer: I saw that moment in -her Looks, all I have since experienc’d of her Genius, -and her Humour; Wit, Judgment, good Nature and -Generosity are in her Countenance, conspicuous as in her -Actions; but to go about to make a Description, were -to wrong her; She has Graces so peculiar, that none -without knowing her, can be able to conceive; and -tho’ nothing can be finer than her Shape, or more regular -than her Features; yet those, our Fancy or a -<i>Painters</i> Art may Copy: There is something so inexpressibly -striking in her Air; such a delightful Mixture -of awful and attractive in every little Motion, -that no Imagination can come up to. But if Language -is too poor to paint her Charms, how shall I -make you sensible of the Effects of them on me! The -Surprize---the Love---the Adoration which this fatal -View involv’d me in, but by that which, you say, -your self felt at the first Sight of <i>Melliora</i>. I was, -methought all Spirit,---I beheld her with Raptures, -such as we imagine Souls enjoy when freed from -Earth, they meet each other in the Realms of Glory; -’twas Heaven to gaze upon her: But Oh! The Bliss was -short, the Envious Trees obscur’d her Lustre from me.---The -Moment I lost Sight of her, I found my <i>Passion</i> -by my <i>Pain</i>, the <i>Joy</i> was vanish’d, but the <i>Sting</i> -remain’d---I was so bury’d in Thought, that I never -so much as stirr’d a Step to endeavour to discover -which way she went; tho’ if I had consider’d the -Situation of the Place, it would have been easy for me -to have known, there was a Communication between -the two Gardens, and if I had gone but a few Paces -out of the Study, must have met her; but Love had -for the present depriv’d me of my Sences; and it but -just enter’d into my Head that there was a Possibility -of renewing my Happiness, when I perceiv’d <i>Cittolini</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span> -returning. When he came pretty near; Dear -<i>Frankville</i>, said he, pardon my Neglect of you; but I -have been at <i>Camilla</i>’s Apartment, and am told she -is in the lower Garden; I will but speak to her, snatch -a Kiss and be with you again: He went hastily by me -without staying for any Answer, and it was well he -did so, for the Confusion I was in, had made me little -able to reply. His Words left me no room to hope -it was any other than <i>Camilla</i> I had seen, and the -Treachery I was guilty of to my Friend, in but wishing -to invade his Right, gave me a Remorse which -I had never known before: But these Reflections lasted -not long; Love generally exerts himself on these Occasions, -and is never at a loss for means to remove -all the Scruples that may be rais’d to oppose him. Why, -said I to my self, should I be thus Tormented? She -is not yet married, and ’tis almost impossible she can -with Satisfaction, ever yield to be so, to him. Could -I but have opportunity to Talk to her, to let her -know my Passion,---to endeavour to deliver her from -the Captivity she is in, perhaps she would not condemn -my Temerity: I found a great deal of Pleasure -in this Thought, but I was not suffer’d to enjoy it -long; <i>Honour</i> suggested to me, that <i>Cittolini</i> lov’d me, -had Oblig’d me, and that to supplant him would be -Base and Treacherous: But would it not be more so, -cry’d the Dictates of my <i>Love</i>, to permit the Divine -<i>Camilla</i> to fall a Sacrifice to one so every way undeserving -of her; one who ’tis likely she abhors; one -who despises her Heart, so he may but possess her -Fortune to support his Pride, and her Person to gratify -a Passion far unworthy of the Name of <i>Love</i>; -One! who ’tis probable, when Master of the one, and -satiated with the other, may treat her with the utmost -Inhumanity. Thus, for a time, were my Thoughts -at Strife; but Love at length got the Victory, and I -had so well compos’d my self before <i>Cittolini</i>’s Return -that he saw nothing of the Disorder I had been -in; but it was not so with him, his Countenance, -at the best displeasing enough, was now the perfect<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span> -Representative of Ill Nature, Malice, and Discontent. -<i>Camilla</i> had assur’d him, that nothing could be more -her Aversion, and that she was resolv’d, tho’ a Monastick -Life was what she had no Inclination to, yet -she would fly to that Shelter, to avoid his Bed. You -may imagine, my Lord, I was Transported with an -Excess of Joy, when he told me this; but Love -taught me to dissemble it, ’till I had taken leave of -him, which I made an Excuse to do, as soon as possible.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> all that troubled me was to find an Opportunity -to declare my Passion; and, I confess, I was -so dull in Contrivance, that tho’ it took up all my -Thoughts, none of them were to any purpose: Three -or four Days I spent in fruitless Projections, the last of -which I met with a new Embarrassment; <i>Cittolini</i>’s -Daughter was return’d, he renew’d his Desires of making -me his Son, and invited me the next Evening to -his House, where I was to be entertain’d with the -sight of her; I could not well avoid giving him my -Promise to be there, but resolv’d in my Mind to behave -my self in such a manner as should make her -disapprove of me. While I was thus busied in Contriving -how to avoid <i>Violetta</i>, and engage <i>Camilla</i>, a -Woman wrapt up very closely in her Vail came to my -Lodgings, and brought me a Note, in which I found -these Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break6.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">My</span> Father is resolv’d to make me Yours; and if -he has your Consent, mine will not be demanded; -he has Commanded me to receive you to morrow, but -I have a particular Reason to desire to see you sooner; -I am to pass this Night with <span class="antiqua">Camilla</span> at my Aunt <span class="antiqua">Ciamara</span>’s;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span> -there is a little Wicket that opens from the -Garden, directly opposite to the Convent of St. <span class="antiqua">Francis</span>, -if you will favour me so far as to come there at Ten -a Clock to Night, and give Seven gentle Knocks at the -Gate: You shall know the Cause of my Entreating this -private Interview, which is of more Moment than the -Life of</i></p> - -<p class="right">Violetta.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Never</span> had I been more pleasingly surpriz’d, than -at the Reading these Lines; I could not imagine the -Lady could have any other Reason for seeing me in -private, than to confess that her Heart was pre-engag’d, -and disswade me from taking the Advantage of her -Father’s Authority, a secret Hope too, sprung within -my Soul, that my Adorable <i>Camilla</i> might be with -her; and after I had dismiss’d the Woman, with an -Assurance that I would attend her Lady, I spent my -Time in vast Idea’s of approaching Happiness ’till the -appointed Hour arriv’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> how great was my Disappointment, when -being admitted, I cou’d distinguish, tho’ the Place was -very dark, that I was receiv’d but by one, and accosted -by her, in a manner very different from what I expected: -I know not, <i>Monsieur</i>, said she, how you -interpret this Freedom I have taken; but whatever we -pretend, our Sex, of all Indignities, can the least support -those done to our Beauty; I am not vain enough -of mine to assure my self of making a Conquest -of your Heart; and if the World should know -you have <i>seen</i>, and <i>refus’d</i> me, my slighted Charms -would be the Theme of <i>Mirth</i> to those whose <i>Envy</i> -now they are: I therefore beg, that if I am dislik’d, none -but my self may know it; when you have seen my Face, -which you shall do immediately, give me your Opinion -freely; and if it is not to my Advantage, make some -pretence to my Father to avoid coming to our House. -I protest to you, my Lord that I was so much surpriz’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span> -at this odd kind of proceeding, that I knew -not presently how to Reply, which she imagining by -my Silence: Come, come, <i>Monsieur</i>, said she, I am -not yet on even Terms with you, having often seen -<i>your</i> Face, and you wholly a Stranger to <i>mine</i>: But -when our Knowledge of each other is Mutual, I hope -you will be as free in your Declaration as I have been -in my Request. These Words I thought were as -proper for my purpose as I cou’d wish, and drawing -back a little, as she was about to lead me: Madam, -said I, since you have that Advantage, methinks it -were but just, you shou’d reveal what sort of Sentiments -the sight of me has inspir’d, for I have too -much Reason from the Knowledge of my Demerit, -to fear, you have no other design in exposing your -Charms, than to Triumph in the Captivating a Heart -you have already doom’d to Misery; I will tell you nothing, -answer’d she, of <i>my</i> Sentiments ’till I have a -perfect knowledge of <i>yours</i>. As she spoke this, she -gave me her Hand to conduct me out of that Place -of Darkness; as we went, I had all the Concern at -the apprehension of being too much approv’d of by -this young Lady, as I shou’d have had for the contrary, -if I had imagin’d who it was I had been talking -with, for as soon as we came out of the Grotto, I -saw by the light of the Moon, which shone that -Night, with an uncommon Lustre, the Face which in -those Gardens had before so Charm’d me, and which -had never since been absent from my Thoughts. What -Joy, what a mixture of Extacy and Wonder, then -fill’d my raptur’d Soul at this second view, I cou’d not -presently trust my Eyes, or think my Happiness was -real: I gaz’d, and gaz’d again, in silent Transport, for the -big Bliss, surpass’d the reach of Words. What <i>Monsieur</i>, -said she, observing my Confusion, are you yet Dumb, is -there any thing so dreadful in the form of <i>Violetta</i>, -to deprive you of your Speech? No Madam, reply’d -I, ’tis not <i>Violetta</i> has that Power, but she, who unknowing -that she did so, caught at first sight the Victory -o’re my Soul; she! for whom I have vented so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span> -Sighs! she for whom I languish’d and almost dy’d for; -while <i>Violetta</i> was at <i>Vitterbo</i>: She! The Divine <i>Camilla</i> -only cou’d inspire a Passion such as mine!--Oh -Heavens! cry’d she, and that instant I perceiv’d her -lovely Face all crimson’d o’re with Blushes; is it then -possible that you know me, have seen me before, and -that I have been able to make any Impression on you? -I then told her of the Visit I had made to <i>Ciamara</i> -with <i>Cittolini</i>, and how by his leaving me in the -Marble-Study, I had been blest with the sight of her; and -from his Friend became his Rival: I let her know -the Conflicts my Honour and my Obligations to <i>Cittolini</i> -had engag’d me in; the thousand various Inventions -Love had suggested to me, to obtain that Happiness -I now enjoy’d, the opportunity of declaring my -self her Slave; and in short, conceal’d not the least -Thought, tending to my Passion, from Her. She, in -requital, acquainted me, that she had often seen me -from her Window, go into the Convent of St. <i>Francis</i>, -walking in the <i>Collonade</i> at St. <i>Peter</i>’s, and in several -other Places, and, prompted by an extravagance of -good Nature, and Generosity, confess’d, that her Heart -felt something at those Views, very prejudicial to her -Repose: That <i>Cittolini</i>, always disagreeable, was now -grown Odious; that the Discourse she had heard of -my intended Marriage with his Daughter, had given -her an alarm impossible to be express’d, and that, unable -longer to support the Pangs of undiscover’d Passion, -she had writ to me in that Ladies Name, who -she knew I had never seen, resolving, if I lik’d her as -<i>Violetta</i>, to own her self <i>Camilla</i>, if not, to go the -next Day to a Monastry, and devote to Heaven those -Charms which wanted force to make a Conquest -where alone she wish’d they shou’d.</p> - -<p>I must leave it to your Lordship’s imagination to -conceive the wild tumultuous hurry of disorder’d Joy -which fill’d my ravish’d Soul at this Condescention; -for I am now as unable to describe it, as I was then -to thank the Dear, the tender Author of it; but what<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span> -<i>Words</i> had not Power to do, <i>Looks</i> and <i>Actions</i> testified: -I threw myself at her Feet, Embrac’d her Knees, -and kiss’d the Hand she rais’d me with, with such a Fervor, -as no false Love cou’d feign; while she, all softness, -all divinely Kind, yielded to the pressure of my -glowing Lips, and suffer’d me to take all the freedom -which Honour and Modesty wou’d permit. This interview -was too felicitous to be easily broken off, it -was almost broad Day when we parted, and nothing but -her Promise, that I shou’d be admitted the next Night, -cou’d have enabled me to take leave of her.</p> - -<p>I went away highly satisfy’d, as I had good Reason, -with my Condition, and after recollecting all the -tender Passages of our Conversation; I began to consider -after what manner I shou’d proceed with <i>Cittolini</i>: -To Visit and Address his Daughter, I thought, -wou’d be Treacherous and Deceitful to the last degree; -and how to come off, after the Promise I made -of seeing her that Evening. I cou’d not tell; at last, -since Necessity oblig’d me to one I resolv’d of, the -two Evils to chuse the least, and rather to seem <i>Rude</i>, -then <i>Base</i>, which I must have been, had I by counterfeiting -a Desire to engage <i>Violetta</i>, left room for a -possibility of creating one in her. I therefore, writ, -to <i>Cittolini</i> an Excuse for not waiting on Him and -his Daughter, as I had promis’d, telling him that I, -on more serious Reflection found it wholly inconsistent, -either with my Circumstances, or Inclinations, to -think of passing all my Life in <i>Rome</i>; that I thank’d -him for the Honour he intended me, but that it was -my Misfortune, not to be capable of accepting it. -Thus, with all the Artifice I was Master of, I endeavour’d -to sweeten the bitter Pill of Refusal, but in -vain; for he was so much Disgusted at it, that he visited -me no more: I cannot say, I had Gratitude enough -to be much concern’d at being compell’d to use him -in this Fashion; for, since I had beheld, and Ador’d -<i>Camilla</i>, I cou’d consider him no longer as a Friend, -but as the most dangerous Enemy to my Hopes and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span> -me. All this time I spent the best part of the Nights -with <i>Camilla</i>; and in one of them, after giving, and -receiving a thousand Vows of everlasting Faith, I -snatch’d a lucking Moment, and obtain’d from the -Dear, melting Charmer, all that my Fondest, and most -eager Wishes cou’d aspire to. Yes, my Lord, the soft, -the trembling Fair, dissolv’d in Love; yielded without -Reserve, and met my Transports with an equal Ardor; -and I truly protest to your Lordship, that what -in others, <i>palls</i> Desire, added fresh <i>Force</i> to mine; -the more I knew, the more I was Inflam’d, and in -the highest Raptures of Enjoyment, the Bliss was -dash’d with Fears, which prov’d alas, but too Prophetick, -that some curst Chance might drive me from my -Heaven: Therefore, to secure it mine for ever, I -press’d the lovely Partner of my Joys, to give me -leave to bring a Priest with me the next Night; who -by giving a Sanction to our Love, might put it past -the Power of Malice to Disunite us: Here, I experienc’d -the greatness of her Soul, and her almost unexampled -Generosity; for in spite of all her Love, her -Tenderness, and the unbounded Condescentions she -had made me, it was with all the difficulty in the -World, that I persuaded her to think of Marrying me -without a Fortune; which by her Father’s <i>Will</i>, was -wholly in the Disposal of <i>Ciamara</i>, who it wou’d -have been Madness to Hope, wou’d ever bestow it upon -me. However, my Arguments at last prevail’d; I -was to bring a Fryar of the Order of St. <i>Francis</i>, who -was my intimate Friend, the next Night to join our -Hands; which done, she told me, she wou’d advise -to leave <i>Rome</i> with what speed we cou’d, for she -doubted not but <i>Cittolini</i> wou’d make use of any -means, tho’ never so base or Bloody, to Revenge his -Disappointment. This Proposal infinitely pleas’d me, -and after I had taken leave of her, I spent the remainder -of the Night, in contriving the means of our Escape: -Early in the Morning I secur’d Post-Horses, and -then went to the Convent of St. <i>Francis</i>; a Purse of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span> -<i>Lewis D’ors</i> soon engag’d the Fryar to my Interest, -and I had every thing ready in wonderful Order, considering -the shortness of the Time, for our Design: -When returning Home towards Evening, as well to -take a little rest after the Fatigue I had had, as to -give some other necessary Directions, concerning the -Affair to my Servants, when one of them gave me a -Letter, which had been just left for me.</p> - -<p><i>Monsieur Frankville</i> cou’d not come to this Part of -his Story, without some Sighs, but suppressing them -as well as he was able, he took some Papers out of -his Pocket, and singling out one, read to the <i>Count</i> as -follows.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><span class="smcap">To</span> Monsieur <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">With</span> what Words can I represent the greatness -of my Misfortune, or Exclaim against the Perfidy -of my Woman? I was oblig’d to make her the Confidant -of my Passion, because without her Assistance, I -cou’d not have enjoy’d the Happiness of your Conversation, -and ’tis by her that I am now Betray’d----undone,---lost -to all hopes of ever seeing you more---What have -I not endur’d this Day, from the upbraidings of <span class="antiqua">Ciamara</span> -and <span class="antiqua">Cittolini</span>, but that I shou’d despise, nay, my -own Ruin too, if you were safe----But Oh! their Malice -aims to wound me most, through you----Bravo’s -are hir’d, the Price of your Blood is paid, and they -have sworn to take your Life---Guard it I conjure you, -if you wou’d preserve that of <span class="antiqua">Camilla</span>’s. Attempt not -to come near this House, nor walk alone, when Night -may be an Umbrage to their Designs.---I hear my -cruel Enemies returning to renew their Persecutions, -and I have Time to inform you no more, than that ’tis<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span> -to the Generous <span class="antiqua">Violetta</span> you are indebted for this Caution: -She, in pity of my Agonies, and to prevent her -Father from executing the Crime he intends; conveys -this to you, slight it not, if you wou’d have me believe -you Love,</i></p> - -<p class="right">Camilla.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">What</span> a turn was here (continu’d he, sadly) in -my Fortune? How on a sudden was my Scene of Happiness -chang’d to the blackest Despair?---But not to -tire your Lordship, and spin out my Narration, which -is already too long with unavailing Complainings. I -every Day expected a Challenge from <i>Cittolini</i>, believing -he wou’d, at least, take that Method at first, -but it seems he was for chusing the <i>surest</i>, not the -<i>fairest</i> way: And I have since prov’d, that my Dear -<i>Camilla</i> had too much Reason for the Caution she gave -me. Ten Days I lingred out without being able to -invent any means, either to see her, or write to Her; -at the end of which, I receiv’d another Letter from -Her, which, if I were to tell you the Substance of, -wou’d be to wrong her; since no Words but her own -are fit to Express her Meaning, and ’tis for that Reason -only, I shall Read it.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break7.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Of</span> all the Woes which wait on humane Life, sure -there is none Equal to that a Lover feels in Absence; -’tis a kind of Hell, an earnest of those Pains, we -are told, shall be the Portion of the Damn’d----Ten -whole Nights, and Days, according to the vulgar Reckoning, -but in mine, as many Ages, have roll’d their tedious -Hours away since last I saw you, in all which -time, my Eyes have never known one Moments cessation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span> -from my Tears, nor my sad Heart from Anguish; restless -I wander thro’ this hated House---Kiss the clos’d -Wicket---stop, and look at every Place which I remember -your dear steps have blest, then, with wild Ravings, -think of past Joys, and curse my present Woes---yet -you perhaps are Calm, no sympathizing Pang invades -your Soul, and tells you what mine suffers, else, you wou’d, -you must have found some Means to ease your self and -me--’tis true, I bid you not attempt it--but Oh! If -you had lov’d like me, you cou’d not have obey’d----Desire -has no regard to Prudence, it despises Danger, -and over-looks even Impossibilities---but whither am -I going?---I say, I know not what---Oh, mark not -what Distraction utters! Shun these detested Walls!---’tis -Reason now commands! fly from this House, where -injur’d Love’s enslav’d, and Death and Treachery reign---I -charge thee come not near, nor prove thy Faith -so hazardous a way---forgive the little Fears, which -ever dwell with Love---I know thou art all sincerity!---all -God-like Truth, and can’st not change---yet, if -thou shouldst,---tormenting Thought!----Why then, -there’s not a Heaven-abandon’d Wretch, so lost---so -Curst as I---What shall I do to shake off Apprehension? -in spite of all thy Vows---thy ardent Vows, when I but -think of any Maid, by Love, and fond Belief undone, -a deadly cold runs thro’ my Veins, congeals my Blood, -and chills my very Soul!---Gazing on the Moon last -Night, her Lustre brought fresh to my Memory those -transporting Moments, when by that Light I saw you -first a Lover, and, I think Inspired me, who am not -usually fond of Versifying, to make her this Complaint.</i></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 175px;"> -<img src="images/footer3.jpg" width="175" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">The Unfortunate <span class="smcap">Camilla</span>’s Complaint -to the <i>Moon</i>, for the Absence -of her Dear <span class="smcap">Henricus Frankville</span>.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Mild Queen of Shades! Thou sweetly shining Light!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Once, more than Phœbus, welcome to my Sight:</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Twas by thy Beams I first <span class="smcap">Henricus</span> saw</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Adorn’d with softness, and disarm’d of awe!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Never did’st thou appear more fair! more bright!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Than on that Dear, that Cause-remembred Night!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>When the dull Tyes of Friendship he disclaim’d,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And to Inspire a tend’rer Passion aim’d:</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Alas! he cou’d not long, in vain, implore</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>For that, which tho’ unknown, was his before;</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Nor had I Art the Secret to Disguise,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>My Soul spoke all her Meaning thro’ my Eyes,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And every Glance bright’ned with glad Surprize!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Lost to all Thought, but His Transporting Charms,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>I sunk, unguarded! Melting in his Arms!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Blest at that lavish rate, my State, that Hour</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>I’d not have Chang’d for all in fortune’s Pow’r,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Nay, had descending Angel’s from on High</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Spread their bright Wings to waft me to the Sky,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Thus clasp’d! Cœlestial Charms had fail’d to move</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And Heav’n been slighted, for <span class="smcap">Henricus</span> Love.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>How did I then thy happy Influence Bless?</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>How watch each joyful Night, thy Lights encrease?</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>But Oh! How alter’d since---Despairing now,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>I View thy Lustre with contracted Brow:</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Pensive, and sullen from the Rays wou’d hide,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And scarce the glimmering Star’s my Griefs abide,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>In Death-like darkness wou’d my Fate deplore,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>And wish Thee to go down, to Rise no more!</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Pity</span> the Extravagance of a Passion which only -Charms like thine cou’d Create, nor too severely chide -this soft Impertinence, which I cou’d not refrain sending -you, when I can neither see you, nor hear from you: -to write, gives some little respite to my Pains, because -I am sure of being in your Thoughts, while you are -Reading my Letters. The Tender Hearted <span class="antiqua">Violetta</span>, -preferring the Tyes of Friendship to those of Duty, gives -me this happy opportunity, but my Ill-fortune deprives -me too of her, she goes to Morrow to her Fathers <span class="antiqua">Villa</span>, -and Heaven knows when I shall find means to send -to you again.</i></p> - -<p><i>Farewel, Thou Loveliest, Dearest, and Divine Charmer---Think -of me with a Concern full of Tenderness, -but that is not enough; and you must pardon me, when -I confess, that I cannot forbear wishing you might feel -some of those Pains, impatient longing brings.---All -others be far away, as far, as Joy is, when you are -Absent from</i></p> - -<p class="center">Your Unfortunate</p> - -<p class="right">Camilla.</p> - -<p>P.S. <i>Since I writ this, a Fancy came into my -Head, that if you cou’d find a Friend Trusty enough to -confide in, and one unknown to our Family, he might -gain admittance to me in <span class="antiqua">Cittolini</span>’s Name, as sent -by him, while he is at the <span class="antiqua">Villa</span>. I flatter my self you -will take as much pleasure in endeavouring to let me -hear from you, as I do in the hope of it. Once more -<span class="antiqua">Adieu</span>.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Your</span> Lordship may judge, by what I have told -you of the Sincerity of my Passion, how glad I should -have been to have comply’d with her Request, but it -was utterly impossible to find any body fit for such a -Business: I pass’d three or four Days more, in Disquietudes -too great to be exprest; I saunter’d up and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span> -down the Street where she liv’d, in hopes to see her -at some of the Windows, but Fortune never was so -favourable to me, thus I spent my Days, and left the -sight of those dear Walls at Nights, but in obedience -to the Charge she had given me of preserving my -Life.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thus</span>, my Lord, has the business of my Love -engrossed my Hours, ever since your Lordships arrival, -and tho’ I heard that you were here, and extreamly -wish’d to kiss your Hands, yet I cou’d never get one -Moment compos’d enough to wait on you in, ’till -what my Desires cou’d not do, the rashness of my Indignation -effected: Last Night, being at my Bankers -where all my Bills and Letters are directed, I found -this, from Monsieur <i>Sanseverin</i>, the Rage which the -Contents of it put me in, kept me from remembring -that Circumspection, which <i>Camilla</i> had enjoyn’d, -and I thought of nothing but revenging the injury I -imagin’d you had done me: As I was coming Home, -I was attack’d as you saw, when you so generously preserv’d -me, the just Indignation I conceiv’d at this base -procedure of <i>Cittolini</i>’s transported me so far, as to -make me forget what I owed to my Deliverer, to -run in pursuit of those who assaulted me, but soon -lost sight of them, and returning, as Gratitude and -Honour call’d me, to seek, and thank you for your -timely Assistance, I found a Throng of People about -the Body of the Villain I had killed, some of them -were for Examining me, but finding no Wounds -about me, nor any marks of the Engagement I had -been in, I was left at my Liberty.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thus</span>, my Lord, have I given you, in as brief a -manner as the Changes of my Fortune wou’d permit, -the Account of my present melancholly Circumstances, -in which, if you find many things blameable, -you must acknowledge there are more which require -Compassion.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span></p> - -<p>I see no Reason, answer’d the Count, either for the -one or the other, you have done nothing but what -any Man who is a Lover, wou’d gladly have it in his -Power to do, and as for your Condition, it certainly -is more to be envy’d than pity’d: The Lady loves, is -Constant, and doubtless will some way or other, find -means for her Escape,----Impossible! Cry’d <i>Frankville</i>, -interrupting him, she is too strictly watch’d to -suffer such a Hope. If you will prepare a Letter, -resum’d <i>D’elmont</i>, my self will undertake to be the -Bearer of it; I am entirely a Stranger to the People -you have been speaking of, or if I should chance to -be known to them, cannot be suspected to come from -you, since our Intimacy, so lately born, cannot yet be -talk’d of, to the prejudice of our Design; and how -do you know, continu’d he smiling, but, if I have -the good Fortune to be introduc’d to this Lady, that -I shall not be able to assist her Invention to form some -Scheme, for both your future Happiness. This offer -was too agreeable to be refus’d, <i>Frankville</i> accepted -it with all the Demonstrations of Gratitude and Joy -imaginable, and setting himself down to the <i>Count</i>’s -Scrutore, was not long Writing the following <i>Billet</i> -which he gave him to read before he seal’d it.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center larger">To the most Lovely and Adorable -<span class="smcap">Camilla</span>.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">If</span> to consume with inward Burnings, to have -no Breath but Sighs, to wish for Death, or -Madness to relieve me from the racks of Thought, -be Misery consummate, such is mine! And yet my -too unjust <span class="smcap">Camilla</span> thinks I feel no Pain, and -chides my cold Tranquility; cou’d I be so, I were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span> -indeed a Wretch deserving of my nate, but far unworthy -of your Pity or Regard. No, no, thou -Loveliest, Softest, most angelic Creature, that -Heaven, in lavish Bounty, ever sent to charm the -adoring World; he that cou’d know one Moments -stupid Calm in such an <i>Absence</i>, ought never to be -blest with those unbounded Joys thy <i>Presence</i> brings: -What wou’d I not give, what wou’d I not hazard -but once more to behold thee, to gaze upon thy -Eyes, those Suns of kindling Transports! to touch -thy enlivening Hand! to feed upon the ravishing -sweetness of thy Lips! Oh the Imagination’s Extacy! -Life were too poor to set on such a Cast, and -you shou’d long e’re this, have prov’d the little Value -I have for it, in competition with my Love -if your Commands had not restrain’d me. <i>Cittolini</i>’s -Malice, however, had last Night been gratify’d, -if the Noble Count <i>D’elmont</i> had not been inspir’d -for my Preservation, it is to him I am indebted, -not only for my Life, but a much greater Favour, -that of conveying to you the Assurance, how much -my Life, my Soul, and all the Faculties of it are -eternally Yours. Thank him, my <i>Camilla</i>, for -your <i>Frankville</i>, for Words like thine are only fit to -Praise, as it deserves, such an exalted Generosity; -’tis with an infinite deal of Satisfaction I reflect -how much thy Charms will justify my Conduct -when he sees thee, all that excess of Passion, which -my fond Soul’s too full of to conceal, that height -of Adoration, which offer’d to any other Woman -wou’d be Sacriledge, the wonders of thy Beauty -and thy Wit, claim as their due, and prove <i>Camilla</i>, -like <i>Heaven</i>, can never be too much Reverenc’d! -Be too much Lov’d!----But, Oh! How poor is -Language to express what ’tis I think, thus Raptur’d -with thy Idea, thou best, thou Brightest----thou -most Perfect----thou something more than -Excellence it self--thou far surpassing all that Words -can speak, or Heart, unknowing thee, conceive:<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span> -yet I cou’d dwell for ever on the Theme, and swell -whole Volumes with enervate, tho’ well-meaning -Praises, if my Impatience, to have what I have -already writ, be with you, did not prevent my saying -any more than, that but in you I live, nor cou’d -support this Death-like absence, but for some little -intervals of Hope, which sometimes flatter me, that -Fortune will grow weary of persecuting me, and -one Day re-unite my Body to my Soul and make -both inseparably Yours,</p> - -<p class="right"><i>Frankville</i>.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">These</span> new made Friends having a fellow-feeling -of each others Sufferings, as proceeding from one -Source, pass’d the time in little else but amorous Discourses, -till it was a proper Hour for the Count to -perform his Promise, and taking a full Direction from -<i>Frankville</i> how to find the House, he left him at his -Lodgings to wait his return from <i>Ciamara</i>’s, forming, -all the way he went, a thousand Projects to -communicate to <i>Camilla</i> for her Escape, he was still -extreamly uneasy in his Mind concerning <i>Melliora</i>, -and long’d to be in <i>Paris</i> to know the Truth of that -Affair, but thought he cou’d not in Honour leave her -Brother in this Embarrassment, and resolv’d to make -use of all his Wit and Address to perswade <i>Camilla</i> to -hazard every thing for Love, and was not a little pleas’d -with the Imagination, that he should lay so considerable -an obligation on <i>Melliora</i>, as this Service to her -Brother wou’d be. Full of these Reflections he found -himself in the <i>Portico</i> of that magnificent House he was -to enter, and seeing a Crowd of Servants about the -Door, desir’d to be brought to the presence of <i>Donna -Camilla Fialaso</i>, one of them, immediately conducted -him into a stately Room, and leaving him there, -told him, the Lady shou’d be made acquainted with -his Request; presently after came in a Woman, who, -tho’ very Young, seem’d to be in the nature of a <i>Duenna</i>, -the <i>Count</i> stood with his Back toward her as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span> -she enter’d, but hearing somebody behind him, and -turning hastily about, he observ’d she startled at sight -of him, and appear’d so confus’d that he knew not -what to make of her Behaviour, and when he ask’d -if he might speak with <i>Camilla</i>, and said he had a -Message to deliver from <i>Cittolini</i>, she made no other -Answer than several times, with an amaz’d Accent, -Ecchoing the names of <i>Camilla</i> and <i>Cittolini</i>, as if not -able to comprehend his Meaning; he was oblig’d to -repeat his Words over and over before she cou’d recollect -herself enough to tell him, that she wou’d let -him know her Lady’s pleasure instantly. She left him -in a good deal of Consternation, at the Surprize he -perceiv’d the Sight of him had put her into, he form’d -a thousand uncertain Guesses what the occasion shou’d -be, but the Mistery was too deep for all his Penetration -to fathom, and he waited with abundance of -Impatience for her return, or the appearance of her -Lady, either, of which, he hop’d, might give a Solution -to this seeming Riddle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> attended a considerable time, and was beginning -to grow excessive uneasy, at this Delay, when a -magnificent <i>Anti-porta</i> being drawn up, he saw thro’ -a Glass Door, which open’d into a Gallery, the <i>Duenna</i> -approaching: She had now entirely compos’d -her Countenance, and with an obliging Smile told -him, she wou’d conduct him to her Lady. She led -him thro’ several Rooms, all richly furnish’d and -adorn’d, but far inferior to the last he came into, and -in which he was again left alone, after being assur’d -that he should not long be so.</p> - -<p><i>Count D’elmont</i> cou’d not forbear giving Truce to -his more serious Reflections, to admire the Beauties -of the Place he was in; where e’er he turn’d his Eyes, -he saw nothing but was splendidly Luxurious, and -all the Ornaments contriv’d in such a manner, as -might fitly be a Pattern, to Paint the Palace of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span> -Queen of Love by: The Ceiling was vastly high and -beautify’d with most curious Paintings, the Walls were -cover’d with Tapestry, in which, most artificially -were woven, in various colour’d Silk, intermix’d with -Gold and Silver, a great number of Amorous Stories; in -one Place he beheld a Naked <i>Venus</i> sporting with <i>Adonis</i>, -in another, the Love transform’d <i>Jupiter</i>, just resuming -his Shape, and rushing to the Arms of <i>Leda</i>; -there, the seeming Chast <i>Diana</i> Embracing her entranc’d -<i>Endimion</i>; here, the God of soft Desires himself, -wounded with an Arrow of his own, and snatching -Kisses from the no less enamour’d <i>Psiche</i>: betwixt -every one of these Pieces hung a large Looking-Glass, -which reach’d to the top of the Room, and out of -each sprung several crystal Branches, containing great -Wax-Tapers, so that the number of Lights vy’d with -the Sun, and made another, and more glorious Day, -than that which lately was withdrawn. At the upper -End of this magnificent Chamber, there was a -Canopy of Crimson Velvet, richly emboss’d, and trim’d -with Silver, the Corners of which were supported -by two golden <i>Cupids</i>, with stretch’d out Wings, as -if prepar’d to fly; two of their Hands grasp’d the extremity -of the <i>Valen</i>, and the other, those nearest to -each other, joyn’d to hold a wreath of Flowers, over -a Couch, which stood under the Canopy. But tho’ -the Count was very much taken at first with what -he saw, yet he was too sincere a Lover to be long delighted -with any thing in the absence of his Mistress: -How Heavenly (said he to himself Sighing) wou’d -be this Place, if I expected <i>Melliora</i> here! But Oh! -how preferable were a Cottage blest with her, to -all this Pomp and Grandeur with any other; this -Consideration threw him into a deep Musing, which -made him forget either where he was, or the Business -which brought him there, till rous’d from it by the -dazling Owner of this sumptuous Apartment. Nothing -could be more glorious than her Appearance; she was -by Nature, a Woman of a most excellent Shape, to -which, her desire of Pleasing, had made her add all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span> -the aids of Art; she was drest in a Gold and Silver -stuff Petticoat, and a Wastcoat of plain blew Sattin, -set round the Neck and Sleeves, and down the Seams -with Diamonds, and fastned on the Breast, with Jewels -of a prodigeous largeness and lustre; a Girdle of -the same encompass’d her Waste; her Hair, of which -she had great quantity, was black as Jet, and with a -studied Negligence, fell part of it on her Neck in careless -Ringlets, and the other was turn’d up, and fasten’d -here and there with Bodkins, which had pendant Diamonds -hanging to ’em, and as she mov’d, glittered -with a quivering Blaze, like Stars darting their fires -from out a sable Sky; she had a Vail on, but so thin, -that it did not, in the least, obscure the shine of her Garments, -or her Jewels, only she had contriv’d to double -that part of it which hung over her Face, in so many -folds, that it serv’d to conceal her as well as a <i>Vizard</i> -Mask.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Count made no doubt but this was the Lady -for whom he waited, and throwing off that melancholly -Air he had been in, assum’d one, all gay and easy, -and bowing low, as he advanc’d to meet her; Madam, -said he, if you are that incomparable <i>Camilla</i>, -whose Goodness nothing but her Beauty can equalize, -you will forgive the intrusion of a Stranger, who confesses -himself no other way worthy of the Honour -of your Conversation, but by his Desires to serve him -who is much more so: A Friend of <i>Cittolini</i>’s, answer’d -she, can never want admittance here, and if -you had no other Plea, the Name you come in, is a -sufficient Warrant for your kind Reception: I hope, -resum’d he in a low Voice, and looking round to see -if there were no Attendants in hearing, I bring a Better, -from <i>Frankville</i>, Madam, the adoring <i>Frankville</i>, -I have these Credentials to Justify my Visit; in -speaking this, he deliver’d the Letter to her, which -she retiring a few Paces from him to read, gave him -an opportunity of admiring the Majesty of her Walk,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span> -and the agreeable loftiness of her Mein, much more -than he had time to do before.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">She</span> dwelt not long on the Contents of the Letter, -but throwing it carelesly down on a Table which -stood near her, turn’d to the Count, and with an Accent -which express’d not much Satisfaction; and was -it to you, my Lord! said she, that Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> -ow’d his Preservation? I was so happy, reply’d -he, to have some little hand in it, but since I have known -how dear he is to you, think my self doubly blest by -Fortune for the means of acting any thing conducive -to your Peace: If you imagine that this is so, resum’d -she hastily, you are extreamly mistaken, as you will -always be, when you believe, where Count <i>D’elmont</i> -appears, any other Man seems worthy the regard of -a discerning Woman; but, continu’d she, perceiving -he look’d surpriz’d, to spare your suspence, and my -self the trouble of repeating what you know already, -behold who she is, you have been talking to, and tell -me now, if <i>Frankville</i> has any Interest in a Heart to -which this Face belongs? With these Words she threw -off her Vail, and instead of lessening his Amazement, -very much encreas’d it, in discovering the Features of -the Lady, with whom he had discoursed the Night -before in the Garden, He knew not what to think, -or how to reconcile to Reason, that <i>Camilla</i>, who so -lately lov’d, and had granted the highest Favours to -<i>Frankville</i>, shou’d on a sudden be willing, uncourted, -to bestow them on another, nor cou’d he comprehend -how the same Person shou’d at once live in two several -Places, for he conceiv’d the House he was in, -was far distant from the Garden which he had been -in the Night before.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> both remain’d for some Moments in a profound -Silence, the Lady expecting when the Count -shou’d speak, and he endeavouring to recollect himself -enough to do so, ’till she, at last, possibly guessing at -his Thoughts, resum’d her Discourse in this manner:<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span> -My Lord, said she, wonder not at the Power of Love, -a Form like yours might soften the most rugged Heart, -much more one, by Nature so tender as is mine.----Think -but what you are, continu’d she sighing, and -making him sit down by her on the Couch, and you -will easily excuse whatever my Passion may enforce -me to commit. I must confess Madam, answer’d -he very gravely, I never in my Life wanted presence -of mind so much as at this juncture, to see before -me here, the Person, who, I believ’d, liv’d far from -hence, who, by Appointment, I was to wait on this -Night at a different Place.----To find in the Mistress -of my Friend, the very Lady, who seems unworthily -to have bestow’d her Heart on me, are Circumstances -so Incoherent, as I can neither account for, or -make evident to <i>Reason</i>, tho’ they are too truly so to -<i>Sense</i>: It will be easy, reply’d she, to reconcile both -these seeming Contradictions, when you shall know -that the Gardens belonging to this House, are of a -very large Extent, and not only that, but the turning -of the Streets are so order’d, as make the Distance -between the fore, and back Door appear much greater -than really it is: And for the other, as I have already -told you, you ought to be better acquainted with your -self, than to be surpriz’d at Consequences which must -infallibly attend such Charms: In saying this, she turn’d -her Head a little on one side, and put her Handkerchief -before her Face, affecting to seem confus’d at what -she spoke; but the Count redned in good Earnest, -and with a Countenance which express’d Sentiments, -far different from those she endeavour’d to Inspire: -Madam, said he, tho’ the good Opinion you have of me -is owing entirely to the <i>Error</i> of your <i>Fancy</i>, which -too often, especially in your Sex, blinds the <i>Judgment</i>, -yet, ’tis certain, that there are not many Men, whom -such Praises, coming from a Mouth like yours, wou’d -not make Happy and Vain; but if I was ever of a -Humour to be so, it is now wholly mortify’d in me, -and ’tis but with the utmost regret, that I must receive -the Favours you confer on me to the prejudice of my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span> -Friend: And is that, interrupted she hastily, is that the -<i>only</i> Cause? Does nothing but your Friendship to -<i>Frankville</i> prevent my Wishes? That, of itself, answer’d -he, were a sufficient Bar to sunder us for ever, -but there’s another, if not a greater, a more tender -one, which, to restore you to the Path, which Honour, -Gratitude, and Reason call you to, I must inform -you of, yes, I must tell you, Madam, all lovely -as you are, that were there no such Man as <i>Frankville</i>, -in the World,----were you as free as Air, I -have a defence within, which all your Charms can -never pierce, nor softness melt---I am already bound, -not with the weak Ties of Vows or formal Obligations, -which confine no farther than the Body, but -Inclination!----the fondest Inclination! That ever -swell’d a <i>Heart</i> with Rapturous Hopes: The Lady -had much ado to contain herself till he had done speaking; -she was by Nature extreamly Haughty, Insolent -of her Beauty, and impatient of any thing she thought -look’d like a flight of it, and this open Defyance of -<i>her</i> Power, and acknowledging <i>anothers</i>, had she been -less in Love wou’d have been insupportable to her: -Ungrateful and uncourtly Man, said she, looking on -him with Eyes that sparkled at once with Indignation -and Desire, you might have spar’d yourself the trouble -of Repeating, and me the Confusion of hearing, -in what manner you stand Engag’d, it had been enough -to have told me you never cou’d be mine, without -appearing transported at the Ruin which you make; -if my too happy Rival possesses Charms, I cannot -boast, methinks your <i>good Manners</i> might have taught -you, not to insult my Wants, and your <i>good Nature</i>, -to have mingled <i>Pity</i> with your <i>Justice</i>; with these -Words she fell a Weeping, but whether they were -Tears of Love or Anger, is hard to determine, ’tis -certain that both those Passions rag’d this Moment in -her Soul with equal Violence, and if she had had it -in her Power, wou’d doubtless have been glad to have -hated him, but he was, at all times, too lovely to suffer -a possibility of that, and much more so at this, for in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span> -spite of the Shock, that Infidelity he believ’d her guilty -of to <i>Frankville</i>, gave him; he was by Nature so -Compassionate, he <i>felt</i> the Woes he <i>saw</i>, or <i>heard</i> of, -even of those who were most indifferent to him, and -cou’d not now behold a Face, in which all the Horrors -of Despair were in the most lively manner represented, -without displaying a Tenderness in his, which -in any other Man, might have been taken for Love; -the dazling Radience of his Eyes, gave place to a more -dangerous, more bewitching softness, and when he -sigh’d, in Pity of her Anguish, a Soul Inchanting Languishment -diffus’d itself thro’ all his Air, and added -to his Graces; she presently perceiv’d it, and forming -new Hopes, as well from that, as from his Silence, -took hold of his Hand, and pressing it eagerly to her -Bosom, Oh my Lord! resum’d she, you cannot be -ungrateful if you wou’d,----I feel you cannot----Madam, -interrupted he, shaking off as much possible -that show of Tenderness, which he found had -given her Incouragement; I wish not to convince you -how nearly I am touch’d, with what you suffer, lest -it shou’d <i>encrease</i> an Esteem, which, since prejudicial -to your Repose, and the Interest of my Friend; I rather -ought to endeavour to <i>lessen</i>.----But, as this is -not the Entertainment I expected from <i>Camilla</i>, I beg -to know an Answer of the Business I came upon, -and what you decree for the unfortunate <i>Frankville</i>: -If the Lady was agitated with an extremity of Vexation -at the <i>Count</i>’s Declaration of his Passion for another, -what was she now, at this Disappointment of -the Hopes she was so lately flatter’d with! instead of -making any direct reply to what he said, she rag’d, -stamp’d, tore her Hair, curs’d <i>Frankville</i>, all Mankind, -the World, and in that height of Fury, scarce -spar’d Heaven itself; but the violence of her Pride and -Resentment being a little vented, Love took his turn, -again she wept, again she prest his Hand, nay she even -knelt and hung upon his Feet, as he wou’d have broke -from her, and beg’d him with Words as eloquent as Wit -cou’d Form, and desperate dying Love Suggest, to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span> -pity and relieve her Misery: But he had now learn’d -to dissemble his Concern, lest it shou’d a second time -beguile her, and after raising her, with as careless and -unmov’d an Air, as he was capable of putting on: -My Presence, Madam, said he, but augments your -Disorder, and ’tis only by seeing you no more, that -I am qualify’d to conduce to the recovery of your -Peace: With these Words he turn’d hastily from her, -and was going out of the Room, when she, quick -as Thought, sprung from the Place where she had -stood, and being got between him and the Door, and -throwing her self into his Arms, before he had time -to prevent her; you must not, shall not go, she cry’d, -till you have left me dead: Pardon me, Madam, answer’d -he fretfully, and struggling to get loose from -her Embrace, to stay after the Discovery you have -made of your Sentiments, were to be guilty of an -Injustice almost equal to your’s, therefore I beg you’d -give me liberty to pass.----Hear me but speak, resum’d -she, grasping him yet harder; return but for -a Moment,----lovely Barbarian,----Hell has no torments -like your Cruelty. Here, the different Passions -working in her Soul, with such uncommon Vehemence, -hurry’d her Spirits beyond what Nature cou’d -Support; her Voice faulter’d in the Accent, her trembling -Hands by slow degrees relinquish’d what so eagerly -they had held, every Sense forgot its Use, and -she sunk, in all appearance, lifeless on the Floor. The -Count was, if possible, more glad to be releas’d, than -griev’d at the occasion, and contented himself with -calling her Women to her Assistance, without staying -to see when she wou’d recover.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> went out of that House with Thoughts much -more discompos’d than those with which he had entered -it, and when he came Home, where <i>Frankville</i> -impatiently waited his Return, he was at the -greatest loss in the World, how to discover his Misfortune -to him; the other observing the trouble -of his Mind, which was very visible in his Countenance;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span> -my Lord, said he, in a melancholly Tone, I -need not ask you what Success, the gloom which appears -on your Brow, tells me, my ill Fortune has deny’d -you the means of speaking to <i>Camilla</i>? Accuse -not Fortune, answer’d <i>D’elmont</i>, but the influence of -malicious Stars which seldom, if ever, suits our Dispositions -to our Circumstances; I have seen <i>Camilla</i>, -have talk’d to her, and ’tis from that Discourse that I -cannot forbear reflection on the Miseries of Humanity, -which, while it mocks us with a show of <i>Reason</i>, -gives us no Power to curb our <i>Will</i>, and guide the erring -Appetites to Peace. Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> at these -Words first felt a jealous Pang, and as ’tis natural to believe -every Body admires what we do, he presently -imagin’d Count <i>D’elmont</i> had forgot <i>Melliora</i> in the -presence of <i>Camilla</i>, and that it was from the Consciousness -of his own Weakness and Inconstancy, that -he spoke so feelingly: I wonder not my Lord, said -he coldly, that the Beauties of <i>Camilla</i> shou’d inspire -you with Sentiments, which, perhaps, for many Reasons, -you wou’d desire to be free from, and I ought, -in Prudence, to have consider’d, that tho’ you are the -most excellent of your Kind, you are still a <i>Man</i>, and -not have the Passions incident to <i>Man</i>, and not have -expos’d you to those Dangers the sight of <i>Camilla</i> -must necessarily involve you in: I wish to Heaven -answer’d the Count, easily guessing what his Thoughts -were, no greater threatned you, and that you cou’d -think on <i>Camilla</i> with the same indifference as I can, -or she of me with more; then, in as brief a manner as -he cou’d, he gave him the Substance of what had -happen’d. <i>Frankville</i>, whose only Fault was rashness, -grew almost wild at the Recital of so unexpected a -Misfortune, he knew not for a good while what to -believe, loath he was to suspect the Count, but loather -to suspect <i>Camilla</i>, yet flew into extremities of Rage -against both, by turns: The Count pitied, and forgave -all that the violence of his Passion made him utter, -but offer’d not to argue with him, ’till he found him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span> -capable of admitting his Reasons, and then, that open -Sincerity, that honest noble Assurance which always -accompany’d his Sweetness, and made it difficult to -doubt the Truth of any thing he said, won the disorder’d -Lover to an entire Conviction; he now concludes -his Mistress false, repents the tenderness he has had -for her, and tho’ she still appears as lovely to his <i>Fancy</i> -as ever, she grows odious to his <i>Judgment</i>, and resolves -to use his utmost Efforts to banish her Idea from -his Heart.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> this Humour he took leave of the Count, it -growing late, and his last Nights Adventure taught -him the danger of Nocturnal Walks, but how he -spent his time till Morning, those can only guess, who -have loved like him, and like him, met so cruel a -Disappointment.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Count pass’d not the Night in much less -Inquietude than <i>Frankville</i>, he griev’d the powerful -Influence of his own Attractions, and had there not -been a <i>Melliora</i> in the World, he wou’d have wish’d -himself Deform’d, rather than have been the Cause -of so much Misery, as his Loveliness produc’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next Morning the Count design’d to visit -<i>Frankville</i>, to strengthen him in his Resolution of -abandoning all Thoughts of the unconstant <i>Camilla</i>, -but before he cou’d get drest, the other came into his -Chamber: My Lord, said he, assoon as they were -alone, my perfidious Mistress, failing to make a Conquest -of your Heart, is still willing to preserve that -she had attain’d over mine, but all her Charms and -her Delusions are but vain, and to prove to your Lordship -that they are so, I have brought the Letter I receiv’d -from her, scarce an Hour past, and the true -Copy of my Answer to it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break9.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To Monsieur <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i>Tho’ nothing proves the value of our Presence, -so much as the Pangs our absence occasions, and -in my last I rashly wish’d you might be sensible of mine, -yet on examining my Heart, I presently recall’d the hasty -Prayer, and found I lov’d with that extravagance of -Tenderness, that I had rather you return’d it too little -than too much, and methinks cou’d better bear to represent -you to my Fancy, careless and calm as common -Lovers are, than think, I saw you, Burning,--Bleeding,---Dying, -like me, with hopeless Wishes, and unavailing -Expectations; but Ah! I fear such Apprehensions -are but too un-necessary----You think not of me, -and, if in those happy days, when no cross Accident interven’d -to part me from your Sight, my Fondness -pleas’d, you now find nothing in <span class="antiqua">Camilla</span> worth a troubled -Thought, nor breath one tender sigh in memory of -our Transports past.----If I wrong your Love, impute -it to Distraction, for Oh! ’tis sure, I am not in my Senses, -nor know to form one regular Desire: I act, and -speak, and think, a thousand Incoherent things, and -tho’ I cannot forbear Writing to you, I write in such -a manner, so wild, so different from what I wou’d, that -I repent me of the Folly I am guilty of, even while I -am committing it; but to make as good a Defence as -I am able for these, perhaps, unwelcome Lines, I must -inform you that they come not so much to let you know -my Sentiments, as to engage a Discovery of yours: -<span class="antiqua">Ciamara</span> has discharg’d one of her Servants from her Attendance, -who no longer courting her Favour or regarding -her Frowns, I have prevail’d upon, not only to bring this to -you, but to convey an Answer back to me, by the help of -a String which I am to let down to him from my Window, -therefore, if you are but as Kind, as he has promis’d to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span> -Faithful, we may often enjoy the Blessing of this distant -Conversation; Heaven only knows when we shall be permitted -to enjoy a nearer. <span class="antiqua">Cittolini</span> is this Evening return’d -from his <span class="antiqua">Villa</span>, and nothing but a Miracle can -save me from the necessity of making my Choice of him, -or a Monastery, either of which is worse than Death, -since it must leave me the Power to wish, but take away -the means, of being what I so oft have swore to be</i></p> - -<p class="center">Eternally Yours, and,</p> - -<p class="center">Yours alone,</p> - -<p class="right"><i>Camilla</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Count could not forbear lifting up his Eyes -and Hands in token of Amazement, at the unexampled -Falshood this Woman appeared guilty of, but -perceiving Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> was about to read -the following Answer, wou’d not Interrupt him, by -asking any Questions ’till he had done.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To <i>Donna</i> <span class="smcap">Camilla</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">If</span> Vows are any constraint to an Inclination so addicted -to Liberty as Yours, I shall make no difficulty -to release you of all you ever made to me! Yes -Madam, you are free to dispose both of your Heart and -Person wheresoever you think fit, nor do I desire you -shou’d give your self the pains of farther Dissimulation. -I pay too entire an Obedience to your Will, to -continue in a Passion which is no longer pleasing: Nor -will, by an ill tim’d and unmannerly Constancy, disturb -the serenity of your future Enjoyments with any happier -Man than</i></p> - -<p class="right">Frankville.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">You</span> see, my Lord, said he with a sigh, that I have -put it out of her Power to Triumph over my Weakness, -for I confess my Heart still wears her Chains, -but e’er my Eyes or Tongue betray to her the shameful -Bondage, these Hands shou’d tear them out; therefore -I made no mention of her Behaviour to you, nor -of my sending any Letter by you, not only because I -knew not if your Lordship wou’d think it proper, -but lest she shou’d imagine my Resentment proceeded -from Jealousy, and that I lov’d her still.----No, she -shall ne’er have Cause to guess the truth of what I suffer.----Her -<i>real perfidy</i> shall be repaid with <i>seeming Inconstancy</i> -and Scorn---Oh! How ’twill sting her Pride,----By -Heaven, I feel a gloomy kind of Pleasure in the -Thought, and will indulge it, even to the highest insults -of Revenge.</p> - -<p>I rather wish, reply’d the Count, you cou’d in -<i>earnest</i> be indifferent, than only <i>feign</i> to be so, her -unexampled Levity Deceit, renders her as unworthy of -your Anger as your Love, and there is too much -Danger while you preserve the <i>one</i>, that you will not -be able to throw off the <i>other</i>.----Oh! I pretend not -to it, cry’d <i>Frankville</i>, interrupting him, she has too deep -a root within my Soul ever to be remov’d---I boast -no more than a concealment of my Passion, and when -I dress the horrors of a bleeding, breaking Heart, in -all the calm of cold Tranquility; methinks, you shou’d -applaud the <i>Noble</i> Conquest: Time, said the <i>Count</i>, -after a little Pause, and a just Reflection how little she -deserves your Thoughts, will teach you to obtain a -<i>Nobler</i>; that of numbering your Love, among things -that <i>were</i>, but <i>are</i> no more, and make you, with me, -acknowledge that ’tis as great an argument of <i>Folly</i> -and <i>meanness of Spirit</i> to continue the same Esteem -when the Object ceases to deserve, which we profess’d -before the discovery of that unworthiness, as it -wou’d be of <i>Villany</i> and <i>Inconstancy of Mind</i>, to change,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span> -without an Efficient Cause: A great deal of Discourse -pass’d between them to the same Effect, and it was -but in vain that Count <i>D’elmont</i> endeavour’d to perswade -him to a real forgetfulness of the Charmer, -tho’ he resolv’d to seem as if he did so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">While</span> they were disputing, one of <i>D’elmont’s</i> -Servants gave him a Letter, which, he told him, the -Person who brought it, desir’d he wou’d answer immediately; -he no sooner broke it open, and cast his -Eye over it, than he cry’d out in a kind of Transport, -Oh, <i>Frankville</i>, what has Fate been doing! You are -Happy.----<i>Camilla</i> is Innocent, and perhaps the most -deserving of her Sex; I only am Guilty, who, by a -fatal Mistake have wrong’d her Virtue, and Tormented -you; but Read, continu’d he, giving him the Letter, -Read, and Satisfy your self.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Monsieur</span> <i>Frankville</i> was too much astonish’d -at these Words to be able to make any reply, but -immediately found the Interpretation of them in these -Lines.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To the dear cruel Destroyer of my -Quiet, the never too much Admir’d -<i>Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p>“’Tis no longer the Mistress of your Friend, a perjur’d -and unjust <i>Camilla</i>, who languishes and -dies by your Contempt, but one, whom all the -Darts of Love had strove in vain to reach, ’till from -your Charms they gain’d a God-like Influence, and -un-erring Force! One, who tho’ a Widow, brings -you the Offering of a Virgin Heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span></p> - -<p>“As I was sitting in my Closet, watching the -progress of the lazy Hours, which flew not half so -swift as my Desires to bring on the appointed time -in which you promis’d to be with me in the Garden; -my Woman came running in, to acquaint me, -that you were in the House, and waited to speak -with <i>Camilla</i>: Surprize, and Jealousy at once Assaulted -me, and I sunk beneath the Apprehension -that you might, by some Accident, have seen her, -and also loved her, to ease my self of those tormenting -Doubts I resolv’d to appear before you, in her -stead, and kept my Vail over my Face, ’till I found -that hers was unknown to you:-----You are not -Ignorant what follow’d, the Deceit pass’d upon -you for Truth, but I was sufficiently punish’d for -it, by the severity of your Usage: I was just going -to discover who I was, when the violence of my -Love, my Grief, and my Despair threw me into -that Swoon, in which, to compleat your Cruelty, -you left me; ’twou’d be endless to endeavour to represent -the Agonies of my Soul, when I recovered, and -heard you were gone, but all who truly Love, as -they <i>fear much</i>, so they <i>hope much</i>, my Tortures -at length abated, at least, permitted me to take some -intervals of Comfort, and I began to flatter my self -that the Passion you seem’d transported with, for -a nameless Mistress, was but a <i>feint</i> to bring me -back to him you thought I was oblig’d to Love, -and that there was a possibility, that my Person -and Fortune might not appear despicable to you, -when, you shou’d know, I have no Ties but those -of Inclination, which can be only yours while I am</p> - -<p class="right"><i>Ciamara.</i></p> - -<p>“<i>P.S.</i> <span class="smcap">If</span> you find nothing in me worthy of your -Love, my Sufferings are such, as justly may deserve -your Pity; either relieve or put an end to them -I conjure you---Free me from the ling’ring Death<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span> -of Doubt, at once decree my Fate, for, like a God, -you rule my very Will, nor dare I, without your -Leave, throw off this wretched Being; Oh then, -permit me once more to behold you, to try at least, -to warm you into Kindness with my Sighs, to melt -you with my Tears,---to sooth you into softness -by a thousand yet undiscover’d Fondnesses---and, -if all fail to die before your Eyes.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Those</span> who have experienc’d the force of Love, -need not to be inform’d what Joy, what Transport swell’d -the Heart of Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>, at this unexpected -<i>Eclaircissment</i> of his dear <i>Camilla’s</i> Innocence; when -every thing concurs to make our Woes seem real, -when Hopes are dead, and even Desire is hush’d by -the loud Clamours of Despair and Rage, then,---then, -to be recall’d to Life, to Light, to Heaven and Love -again, is such a torrent of o’re powering Happiness,--such -a surcharge of Extacy, as Sense can hardly bear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">What</span> now wou’d <i>Frankville</i> not have given that -it had been in his Power to have recall’d the last Letter -he sent to <i>Camilla</i>? his Soul severely reproach’d -him for so easily believing she cou’d be False; tho’ his -Experience of the sweetness of her Disposition, made -him not doubt of a Pardon from her, when she shou’d -come to know what had been the Reason of his Jealousy; -his impatience to see her, immediately put it -into his Head, that as <i>Ciamara</i> had been the occasion -of the mis-understanding between them, <i>Ciamara</i> -might likewise be made the property to set all right -again; to this end, he entreated the Count to write -her an answer of Compliance, and a promise to come -to her the next Day, in which Visit, he wou’d, in a -Disguise attend him, and being once got into the -House, he thought it wou’d be no difficulty to steal to -<i>Camilla’s</i> Apartment.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> he found it not so easy a Task as he imagin’d, -to persuade Count <i>D’elmont</i> to come into this Design,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span> -his generous Heart, averse to all Deceit, thought it -base and unmanly to abuse with Dissimulation -the real tenderness this Lady had for him, and tho’ -press’d by the Brother of <i>Melliora</i>, and conjur’d to it, -even by the Love he profess’d for her, it was with -all the reluctance in the World, that he, at last, consented, -and his Servant came several times into the -Room to remind him that the Person who brought -the Letter, waited impatiently for an Answer, before -he cou’d bring himself into a Humour to write in -the manner Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> desir’d; and tho’, -scarce any Man ever had so sparkling a Fancy, such a -readiness of Thought, or aptitude of Expression, when -the dictates of his Soul, were the Employment of his -Tongue or Pen, yet he now found himself at a loss -for Words, and he wasted more time in these few -Lines, than a Thousand times as many on any other -Subject wou’d have cost him.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break8.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To the Beautiful and Obliging -<span class="smcap">Ciamara.</span></p> - -<p><i>Madam</i>,</p> - -<p>“If I did not Sin against Truth when I assur’d you -that I had a Mistress to whom I was engag’d by Inclination, -I certainly did, when I appear’d guilty -of a harshness which was never in my Nature; the -Justice you do me in believing the Interest of my -Friend was the greatest Motive for my seeming Unkindness -I have not the Power sufficiently to acknowledge, -but, cou’d you look into my Soul, you -wou’d there find the Effects of your Inspiration, -something so tender, and so grateful, as only favours, -such as you confer, cou’d merit or create.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span></p> - -<p>“I design to make my self happy in waiting on -you to Morrow Night about Eleven, if you will -order me admittance at that Back-gate, which was -the Place of our first Appointment, ’till then, I am -the lovely <i>Ciamara</i>’s</p> - -<p class="center">Most Devoted Servant</p> - -<p class="right"><i>D’elmont.</i></p> - -<p>“<i>P.S.</i> There are some Reasons why I think it not safe -to come alone, therefore beg you’ll permit me to bring -a Servant with me, on whose secrecy I dare rely.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the Count had sent away this little Billet, -Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> grew very gay on the hopes of -his Design succeeding; and laughing, my Lord said -he, I question whether <i>Melliora</i> wou’d forgive me, -for engaging you in this Affair; <i>Ciamara</i> is extreamly -handsome, has Wit, and where she attempts to Charm, -has doubtless, a thousand Artifices to obtain her wish; -the Count was not in a temper to relish his Raillery, -he had a great deal of Compassion for <i>Ciamara</i>, and -thought himself inexcusable for deceiving her, and all -that <i>Frankville</i> cou’d do to dissipate the Gloom that -reflection spread about him, was but vain.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> spent the greatest part of this Day together, -as they had done the former; and when the time -came that <i>Frankville</i> thought it proper to take Leave, -it was with a much more chearful Heart, than he had -the Night before; but his Happiness was not yet secure, -and in a few Hours he found a considerable alteration -in his Condition.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> soon as it was dark enough for <span class="smcap">Camilla</span> to let -down her String to the Fellow whom she had order’d -to wait for it, he receiv’d another Letter fasten’d to -it, and finding it was Directed as the other, for Monsieur -<i>Frankville</i>, he immediately brought it to him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was with a mixture of Fear and Joy, that the -impatient Lover broke it open, but both these Passions -gave Place to an adequate Despair, when having -un-seal’d it, he read these Lines.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break7.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To Monsieur</i> <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">I have</span> been already so much deceiv’d, that I -ought not to boast of any skill in the Art of -Divination, yet, I fancy, ’tis in my Power to form -a juster Guess than I have done, what the Sentiments -of your Heart will be when you first open this----Methinks, -I see you put on a scornful Smile, resolving -to be still unmov’d, either at Upbraidings or -Complaints; for to do one of these, I am satisfied, -you imagine is the reason of my troubling you with -a Letter: But Sir, I am not altogether silly enough -to believe the tenderest Supplications the most humble -of my Sex cou’d make, has efficacy to restore -Desire, once Dead, to Life; or if it cou’d, I am -not so mean Spirited as to accept a return thus -caus’d; nor wou’d it be less impertinent to Reproach; -to tell you that you are Perjur’d---Base---Ungrateful, -is what you know already, unless your -Memory is so Complaisant as not to remind you -of either Vows or Obligations: But, to assure you, -that I reflect on this sudden Change of your Humour -without being fir’d with Rage, or stupify’d -with Grief, is perhaps, what you least expect.----Yet, -strange as it may seem, it is most certain, that -she, whom you have found the Softest, Fondest, -Tenderest of her Kind, is in a moment grown the -most Indifferent, for in spight of your Inconstancy, -I never shall deny that I have Lov’d you,---Lov’d -you, even to Dotage, my Passion took birth long before -I knew you had a thought of feigning one for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span> -me, which frees me from that Imputation Women -too frequently deserve, of <i>loving</i> for no other Reason -than because they are <i>beloved</i>, for if you ne’er had -<i>seem’d</i> to love, I shou’d have continu’d to do so in -<i>Reality</i>. I found a thousand Charms in your Person -and Conversation, and believ’d your Soul no less -transcending all others in excellent Qualities, than I -still confess your Form to be in Beauty; I drest you -up in vain Imagination, adorn’d with all the Ornaments -of Truth, Honour, good Nature, Generosity, -and every Grace that raise mortal Perfection to -the highest pitch, and almost reach Divinity,---but -you have taken care to prove your self, meer <i>Man</i>, -to like, dislike, and wish you know not what, nor -why! If I never had any Merits, how came you -to think me worthy the pains you have taken to -engage me? And if I had, how am I so suddenly -depriv’d of them?---No, I am still the same, and -the only reason I appear not so to you, is, that you -behold me now, no more, with Lover’s Eyes; the -few Charms, I am Mistress of, look’d lovely at a -distance, but lose their Lustre, when approach’d too -near; your Fancy threw a glittering Burnish o’re me, -which free Possession has worn off, and now, the <i>Woman</i> -only stands expos’d to View, and I confess I justly -suffer for the guilty Folly of believing that in your Sex -Ardors cou’d survive Enjoyment, or if they cou’d, -that such a Miracle was reserv’d for me; but thank -Heaven my Punishment is past, the Pangs, the Tortures -of my bleeding Heart, in tearing your Idea -thence, already are no more! The fiery Tryal is -over, and I am now arriv’d at the Elizium of perfect -Peace, entirely unmolested by any warring Passion; -the Fears, the Hopes, the Jealousies, and all -the endless Train of Cares which waited on my -hours of Love and fond Delusion, serve but to endear -re-gain’d Tranquility; and I can cooly <i>Scorn</i>, not -<i>hate</i> your Falshood; and tho’ it is a Maxim very -much in use among the Women of my Country,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span> -that, <i>not to Revenge, were to deserve Ill-usage</i>, yet -I am so far from having a wish that way, that I -shall always esteem your <i>Virtues</i>, and while I pardon, -pity your <i>Infirmities</i>; shall praise your flowing -Wit, without an Indignant remembrance how -oft it has been employ’d for my undoing; shall -acknowledge the brightness of your Eyes, and not -in secret Curse the borrow’d softness of their Glances, -shall think on all your past Endearments, your -Sighs, your Vows, your melting Kisses, and the -warm Fury of your fierce Embraces, but as a pleasing -Dream, while Reason slept, and with not to -renew at such a Price.</p> - -<p>“I desire no Answer to this, nor to be thought of -more, go on in the same Course you have begun, -Change ’till you are tir’d with roving, still let -your Eyes Inchant, your Tongue Delude, and Oaths -Betray, and all who look, who listen, and believe, -be ruin’d and forsaken like</p> - -<p class="right"><i>Camilla.</i>”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> calm and resolute Resentment which appear’d -in the Stile of this Letter, gave <i>Frankville</i> very -just Grounds to fear, it would be no small Difficulty -to obtain a Pardon for what he had so rashly Written; -but when he reflected on the seeming Reasons, -which mov’d him to it, and that he should -have an Opportunity to let her know them, he was -not altogether Inconsolable, he pass’d the Night however -in a World of Anxiety, and as soon as Morning -came, hurried away, to communicate to the <i>Count</i> -this fresh Occasion of his Trouble.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was now <i>D’elmont</i>’s turn to Rally, and he -laugh’d as much at those Fears, which he imagin’d -Causeless, as the other had done, at the Assignation -he had perswaded him to make with <i>Ciamara</i>, but -tho’ as most of his Sex are, he was pretty much of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span> -the <i>Count</i>’s Opinion, yet, the Re-instating himself in -<i>Camilla</i>’s Esteem, was a Matter of too great Importance -to him, to suffer him to take one Moment’s -ease ’till he was perfectly Assur’d of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">At</span> last, the wish’d for Hour arriv’d, and he, disguis’d -so, as it was impossible for him to be known, -attended the <i>Count</i> to that dear Wicket, which had -so often given him Entrance to <i>Camilla</i>; they waited -not long for Admittance, <i>Brione</i> was ready there -to Receive them; the Sight of her, inflam’d the -Heart of Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> with all the Indignation -imaginable, for he knew her to be the Woman, -who, by her Treachery to <i>Camilla</i>, had gain’d the -Confidence of <i>Ciamara</i>, and involv’d him in all the -Miseries he had endur’d! but he contain’d himself, -’till she taking the <i>Count</i> by the Hand, in order to -lead him to her Lady, bad him wait her Return, -which she told him should be immediately, in an -outer Room which she pointed him to.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the mean Time she conducted the <i>Count</i> to the -Door of that magnificent Chamber, where he had -been receiv’d by the suppos’d <i>Camilla</i>, and where he -now beheld the real <i>Ciamara</i>, drest, if possible, richer -than she was the Night before, but loose as wanton -Fancy cou’d invent; she was lying on the Couch -when he enter’d, and affecting to seem as if she was -not presently Sensible of his being there, rose not to -receive him ’till he was very near her; they both -kept silence for some Moments, she, waiting till he -should speak, and he, possibly, prevented by the uncertainty -after what manner he should Form his Address, -so as to keep an equal Medium between the -two Extreams, of being Cruel, or too Kind, till at -last the Violence of her impatient Expectation burst -out in these Words,----Oh that this Silence were -the Effect of Love!----and then perceiving he -made no Answer; tell me, continu’d she, am I forgiven -for thus intruding on your <i>Pity</i> for a Grant,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span> -which <i>Inclination</i> would not have allow’d me? Cease -Madam, reply’d he, to encrease the Confusion which -a just Sense of your Favours, and my own Ingratitude -has cast me in: How can you look with Eyes -so tender and so kind, on him who brings you nothing -in Return? Rather despise me, hate me, drive -me from your Sight, believe me as I am, unworthy -of your Love, nor squander on a Bankrupt Wretch -the noble Treasure: Oh Inhuman! interrupted she, -has then that Mistress of whose Charms you boasted, -engross’d all your stock of Tenderness? and have you -nothing, nothing to repay me for all this waste of Fondness,----this -lavish Prodigality of Passion, which forces -me beyond my Sexes Pride, or my own natural -Modesty, to sue, to Court, to kneel and weep for -Pity: Pity, resum’d the <i>Count</i> wou’d be a poor Reward -for Love like yours, and yet alas! continu’d he -Sighing, ’tis all I have to give; I have already told -you, I am ty’d by Vows, by Honour, Inclination, to -another, who tho’ far absent hence, I still preserve -the dear Remembrance of! My Fate will soon recall -me back to her, and <i>Paris</i>; yours fixes you at <i>Rome</i>, -and since we are doom’d to be for ever separated, it -wou’d be base to Cheat you with a vain Pretence, and -lull you with Hopes pleasing Dreams a while, when -you must quickly wake to added Tortures, and redoubled -Woe: Heavens, cry’d she, with an Air full -of Resentment, are then my Charms so mean, my -Darts so weak, that near, they cannot intercept those, -shot at such a Distance? And are you that dull, cold -Platonist, which can prefer the visionary Pleasures -of an <i>absent</i> Mistress, to the warm Transports of -the Substantial <i>present</i>: The <i>Count</i> was pretty much -surpriz’d at these Words, coming from the Mouth of -a Woman of Honour, and began now to perceive -what her Aim was, but willing to be more confirm’d, -Madam, said he, I dare not hope your Virtue -wou’d permit.----Is this a Time (Interrupted -she, looking on him with Eyes which sparkled -with wild Desires, and left no want of further<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span> -Explanation of her meaning) Is this an Hour to -preach of Virtue?----Married,----betroth’d, engag’d -by Love or Law, what hinders but this Moment you -may be mine, this Moment, well improv’d, might -give us Joys to baffle a whole Age of Woe; make -us, at once, forget our Troubles past, and by its sweet -remembrance, scorn those to come; in speaking these -Words, she sunk supinely on <i>D’elmont</i>’s Breast; but -tho’ he was not so ill-natur’d, and unmannerly as to -repel her, this sort of Treatment made him lose all -the Esteem, and great part of the Pity he had conceiv’d -for her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Woes of Love are only worthy Commiseration, -according to their Causes; and tho’ all those -kinds of Desire, which the difference of Sex creates, -bear in general, the name of Love, yet they are as -vastly wide, as Heaven and Hell; that Passion which -aims chiefly at Enjoyment, in Enjoyment ends, the -fleeting Pleasure is no more remembred, but all the -stings of Guilt and Shame remain; but that, where -the interiour Beauties are consulted, and <i>Souls</i> are Devotees, -is truly Noble, Love, <i>there</i> is a Divinity indeed, -because he is immortal and unchangeable, and if -our earthy part partake the Bliss, and craving Nature is -in all obey’d; Possession thus desired, and thus obtain’d, -is far from satiating, <i>Reason</i> is not here debas’d to -<i>Sense</i>, but <i>Sense</i> elevates itself to <i>Reason</i>, the different -Powers unite, and become pure alike.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was plain that the Passion with which <i>Ciamara</i> -was animated, sprung not from this last Source; she -had seen the Charming Count, was taken with his -Beauty, and wish’d no farther than to possess his lovely -<i>Person</i>, his <i>Mind</i> was the least of her Thoughts, for -had she the least Ambition to reign there, she wou’d -not have so meanly sought to obtain the one, after he -had assured her, the other, far more noble part of him -was dispos’d of. The Grief he had been in, that it -was not in his Power to return her Passion, while<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span> -he believ’d it meritorious, was now chang’d to the -utmost Contempt, and her Quality, and the State she -liv’d in, did not hinder him from regarding of her, -in as indifferent a manner, as he wou’d have done a -common <i>Courtezan</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lost</span> to all Sense of Honour, Pride or Shame, -and wild to gratify her furious Wishes, she spoke, -without reserve, all they suggested to her, and lying -on his Breast, beheld, without concern, her Robes -fly open, and all the Beauties of her own expos’d, and -naked to his View: Mad at his Insensibility, at last -she grew more bold, she kiss’d his Eyes,---his Lips, -a thousand times, then press’d him in her Arms with -strenuous Embraces,----and snatching his Hand and -putting it to her Heart, which fiercely bounded at his -Touch, bid him be witness of his mighty Influence -there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> it was impossible for any Soul to be capable -of a greater, or more constant Passion than his felt -for <i>Melliora</i>, tho’ no Man that ever liv’d, was less -addicted to loose Desires,----in fine, tho’ he really -was, as <i>Frankville</i> had told him, the most excellent -of his Kind, yet, he was still a <i>Man!</i> And, ’tis not to -be thought strange, if to the force of such united -Temptations, Nature and Modesty a little yielded; -warm’d with her fires, and perhaps, more mov’d by -Curiosity, her Behaviour having extinguish’d all his respect, -he gave his Hands and Eyes a full Enjoyment -of all those Charms, which had they been answer’d -by a Mind worthy of them, might justly have inspir’d -the highest Raptures, while she, unshock’d, and unresisting, -suffer’d all he did, and urg’d him with all the -Arts she was Mistress of, to more, and it is not altogether -improbable, that he might not entirely have -forgot himself, if a sudden Interruption had not restor’d -his Reason to the consideration of the Business which -had brought him here.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Monsieur</span> <i>Frankville</i> had all this time been employ’d -in a far different manner of Entertainment; -<i>Brione</i> came to him, according to her promise, assoon -as she had introduc’d the <i>Count</i> to <i>Ciamara</i>, and having -been commanded by that Lady to Discourse with -the supposed Servant, and get what she cou’d out of -him, of the <i>Count</i>’s Affairs, she sat down and began -to talk to him with a great deal of Freedom; but he -who was too impatient to lose much time, told her -he had a Secret to discover, if the place they were in -was private enough to prevent his being over-heard, -and she assuring him that it was, he immediately discover’d -who he was, and clap’d a Pistol to her Breast, -swearing that Moment shou’d be the last of her Life, -if she made the least Noise, or attempted to intercept -his passage to <i>Camilla</i>: The terror she was in, made -her fall on her Knees, and conjuring him to spare her -Life, beg’d a thousand Pardons for her Infidelity, which -she told him was not occasion’d by any particular Malice -to him; but not being willing to leave <i>Rome</i> herself, -the fear of being expos’d to the revenge of <i>Ciamara</i> -and <i>Cittolini</i>, when they shou’d find out that she had -been the Instrument of <i>Camilla</i>’s Escape, prevail’d -upon her timerous Soul to that Discovery, which was -the only means to prevent what she so much dreaded: -<i>Frankville</i> contented himself with venting his Resentment -in two or three hearty Curses, and taking her -roughly by the Arm, bid her go with him to <i>Camilla</i>’s -Apartment, and discover before her what she knew of -<i>Ciamara</i>’s Entertaining Count <i>D’elmont</i> in her Name, -which she trembling promis’d to obey, and they both -went up a pair of back Stairs which led a private way -to <i>Camilla</i>’s Chamber; when they enter’d, she was -sitting in her night Dress on the Bed-side, and the unexpected -sight of <i>Brione</i>, who, till now, had never -ventured to appear before her, since her Infidelity, and -a Man with her whom she thought a Stranger, fill’d -her with such a surprize, that it depriv’d her of her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span> -Speech, and gave <i>Frankville</i> time to throw off his -Disguise, and catch her in his Arms, with all the Transports -of unfeign’d Affection, before she cou’d enough -recover her self to make any resistance, but when -she did, it was with all the Violence imaginable, and -indeavouring to tear herself away; Villain, said she, -comest thou again to triumph o’re my Weakness,----again -to Cheat me into fond Belief? There needed -no more to make this obsequious Lover relinquish his -Hold, and falling at her Feet, was beginning to speak -something in his Vindication; when she, quite lost in -Rage, prevented him, by renewing her Reproaches -in this manner; have you not given me up my Vows? -Resum’d she, have you not abandon’d me to ruin,---to -Death--to Infamy,----to all the stings of self-accusing -Conscience and Remorse? And come you now, -by your detested Presence, to alarm Remembrance, -and new point my Tortures?-----That Woman’s -Treachery, continu’d she, looking on <i>Brione</i>, I freely -Pardon, since by that little Absence it occasion’d, I -have discovered the wavering disposition of your Soul, -and learn’d to scorn what is below my Anger. Hear -me but speak, cry’d <i>Frankville</i>, or if you doubt my -Truth, as I confess you have almighty Cause, let her -inform you, what seeming Reasons, what Provocations -urg’d my hasty Rage to write that fatal,----that -accursed Letter. I will hear nothing, reply’d <i>Camilla</i>, -neither from you nor her,----I see the base Design, -and scorn to joyn in the Deceit,--You had no Cause,----not -even the least Pretence for your Inconstancy -but one, which, tho’ you all are guilty of, you all Disown, -and that is, being lov’d too well.----I Lavish’d -all the fondness of my Soul, and you, unable to reward, -despiz’d it:--But think not that the rage, you now -behold me in, proceeds from my Despair--No, your -Inconstancy is the Fault of Nature, a Vice which all -your Sex are prone to, and ’tis we, the fond Believers -only, are to blame, <i>that</i> I forgave, my Letter told you -that I did----but thus to come----thus Insolent in -Imagination, to dare to hope I were that mean Soul’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span> -Wretch, whose easy Tameness, and whose doating -Love, with Joy would welcome your return, clasp -you again in my deluded Arms, and swear you were as -dear as ever, is such an affront to my Understanding, -as merits the whole Fury of Revenge! as she spoke -these Words, she turn’d disdainfully from him with a -Resolution to leave the Room, but she could not make -such hast to go away, as the despairing, the distracted -<i>Frankville</i> did to prevent her, and catching hold of her -Garments, stay Madam, said he, wildly, either permit -me to clear my self of this barbarous Accusation, -or, if you are resolv’d, Unhearing, to Condemn me, -behold me, satiate all your Rage can wish, for by -Heaven, continued he, holding the Pistol to his own -Breast, as he had done a little before to <i>Brione</i>’s, by all -the Joys I have Possest, by all the Hell I now endure, -this Moment I’ll be receiv’d your <i>Lover</i>, or expire -your <i>Martyr</i>. These Words pronounc’d so passionately, -and the Action that accompany’d them, made a visible -alteration in <i>Camilla</i>’s Countenance, but it lasted -not long, and Resuming her fierceness; your Death, -cry’d she, this way would give me little Satisfaction, -the World would judge more Noble of my Resentment, -if by my Hand you fell----Yet, continu’d she, -snatching the Pistol from him, and throwing it out of -the Window, which happen’d to be open, I will not---cannot -be the Executioner.--No, Live! And let -thy Punishment be, in <i>Reality</i>, to endure what thou -well <i>Dissemblest</i>, the Pangs, the racking Pangs, of hopeless, -endless Love!--May’st thou <i>indeed</i>, Love <i>Me</i>, as -thou a thousand Times hast falsely sworn,---for ever -<i>Love</i>, and I, for ever <i>Hate!</i> In this last Sentence, she -flew like Lightning to her Closet, and shut her self in, -leaving the amaz’d Lover still on his Knees, stupify’d -with Grief and Wonder, all this while <i>Brione</i> had been -casting about in her Mind, how to make the best use -of this Adventure with <i>Ciamara</i>, and encourag’d by -<i>Camilla</i>’s Behaviour and taking advantage of <i>Frankville</i>’s -Confusion, made but one Step to the Chamber -Door, and running out into the Gallery, and down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span> -Stairs, cry’d Murder,----Help, a Rape----Help, or -<i>Donna Camilla</i> will be carry’d away.---She had no occasion -to call often, for the Pistol which <i>Camilla</i> threw -out of the Window chanc’d to go off in the fall, and -the report it made, had alarm’d some of the Servants -who were in an out-House adjoyning to the Garden, -and imagining there were Thieves, were gathering -to search: some arm’d with Staves, some with Iron -Bars, or any thing they could get in the Hurry they -were in, as they were running confusedly about, they -met Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> pursuing <i>Brione</i>, with a design -to stop her Mouth, either by Threatnings or -Bribes, but she was too nimble for him, and knowing -the ways of the House much better than he did, -went directly to the Room where <i>Ciamara</i> was Caressing -the Count in the manner already mention’d: -Oh Madam, said she, you are impos’d on, the Count -has deceiv’d your Expectations, and brought Monsieur -<i>Frankville</i> in Disguise to rob you of <i>Camilla</i>. These -Words made them both, tho’ with very different Sentiments, -start from the posture they were in, and <i>Ciamara</i> -changing her Air of Tenderness for one all Fury, -Monster! Cry’d she to <i>D’elmont</i>, have you then betray’d -me? This is no time, reply’d he, hearing a -great Bustle, and <i>Frankville</i>’s Voice pretty loud without, -for me to answer you, my Honour calls me to -my Friend’s assistance; and drawing his Sword, run -as the Noise directed him to the Place where <i>Frankville</i> -was defending himself against a little Army of -<i>Ciamara</i>’s Servants, she was not much behind him, -and enrag’d to the highest degree, cry’d out, kill, kill -them both! But that was not a Task for a much greater -Number of such as them to Accomplish, and tho’ -their Weapons might easily have beat down, or broke -the Gentlemens Sword; yet their Fears kept them from -coming too near, and <i>Ciamara</i> had the Vexation to -see them both Retreat with Safety, and her self disappointed, -as well in her Revenge, as in her Love.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nothing</span> cou’d be more surpriz’d, than Count -<i>D’elmont</i> was, when he got Home, and heard from -<i>Frankville</i> all that had pass’d between him and <i>Camilla</i>, -nor was his Trouble less, that he had it not in his Power -to give him any Advice in any Exigence so uncommon: -He did all he cou’d to comfort and divert his -Sorrows, but in vain, the Wounds of bleeding Love -admit no Ease, but from the Hand which gave them; -and he, who was naturally rash and fiery, now grew -to that height of Desparation and violence of Temper, -that the Count fear’d some fatal Catastrophe, and -wou’d not suffer him to stir from him that Night, -nor the next Day, till he had oblig’d him to make a -Vow, and bind it with the most solemn Imprecations, -not to offer any thing against his Life.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span>, tho’ plung’d into the lowest depth of Misery, -and lost, to all Humane probability, in an inextricable -Labyrinth of Woe, <i>Fortune</i> will find, at last some way, -to raise, and disentangle those, whom she is pleas’d to -make her Favourites, and that Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> -was one, an unexpected Adventure made him know.</p> - -<p>The third Day from that, in which he had seen -<i>Camilla</i>, as he was sitting in his Chamber, in a melancholly -Conversation with the Count, who was then -come to Visit him, his Servant brought him a Letter, -which he said had been just left, by a Woman of an -extraordinary Appearance, and who the Moment she -had given it into his Hand, got from the Door with so -much speed, that she seem’d rather to vanish than to walk.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">While</span> the Servant was speaking, <i>Frankville</i> -look’d on the Count with a kind of a pleas’d Expectation -in his Eye, but then casting them on the Direction of -the Letter, Alas! Said he, how vain was my Imagination, -this is not <i>Camilla’s</i>, but a Hand, to which I -am utterly a Stranger; these Words were clos’d with -a sigh, and he open’d it with Negligence which wou’d -have been unpardonable, cou’d he have guess’d at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span> -the Contents, but assoon as he saw the Name of Violetta -at the bottom, a flash of Hope re-kindled in his -Soul, and trembling with Impatience he Read.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break10.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To Monsieur <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">I think</span> it cannot be call’d Treachery, if we betray -the Secrets of a Friend, only when Concealment were -an Injury, but however I may be able to answer this -breach of Trust, I am about to make to my self, ’tis -your Behaviour alone, which can absolve me to <span class="antiqua">Camilla</span>, -and by your Fidelity she must judge of <span class="antiqua">mine</span>.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> Daughter to the Man she hates, she finds nothing -in me Unworthy of her Love and Confidence, and as I -have been privy, ever since your mutual Misfortunes, -to the whole History of your Amour, so I am now no -Stranger to the Sentiments, your last Conversation has -inspir’d her with--She loves you still, <span class="antiqua">Monsieur</span>--with -an extremity of Passion loves you,----But, tho’ she -ceases to believe you unworthy of it, her Indignation -for your unjust Suspicion of her will not be easily remov’d--She -is resolv’d to act the <span class="antiqua">Heroine</span>, tho’ to -purchase that Character it shou’d cost her Life: She is -determin’d for a Cloyster, and has declared her Intention, -and a few Days will take away all Possibility of -ever being yours; but I, who know the conflicts she endures, -wish it may be in your Power to prevent the Execution -of a Design, which cannot, but be fatal to her: -My Father and <span class="antiqua">Ciamara</span>, I wish I cou’d not call her -Aunt, were last Night in private Conference, but I -over heard enough of their Discourse, to know there -has been some ungenerous Contrivance carry’d on to -make you, and <span class="antiqua">Camilla</span> appear guilty to each other, -and ’tis from that Knowledge I derive my Hopes, that -you have Honour enough to make a right Use of this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span> -Discovery, if you have anything to say, to further the -Intercessions I am imploy’d in, to serve you; Prepare -a Letter, which I will either prevail on her to <span class="antiqua">read</span>, or -oblige her, in spite of the Resolution she has made, to -<span class="antiqua">Hear</span>: But take care, that in the least, you hint not -that you have receiv’d one from me, for I shall perswade -her that the Industry of your Love has found -means of conveying it to me, without my Knowledge: -Bring it with you this Evening to St. <span class="antiqua">Peter’s</span>, and assoon -as Divine Service is over, follow her who shall drop -her Handkerchief as she passes you, for by that Mark -you shall distinguish her whom you yet know, but by -the Name of</i></p> - -<p class="right">Violetta.</p> - -<p>P.S. <i>One thing, and indeed not the least, which induc’d -me to write, I had almost forgot, which is, that -your Friend the Accomplish’d Count <span class="antiqua">D’elmont</span>, is as -much endangered by the Resentment of <span class="antiqua">Ciamara</span>, as -your self by that of my Father, bid him beware how -he receives any Letter, or Present from a Hand unknown, -lest he should Experience, what he has doubtless -heard of, our <span class="antiqua">Italian</span> Art of Poysoning by the smell.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> had given this Letter -to the Count to read, which he immediately did, -they both of them broke into the highest Encomiums -on this young Lady’s Generosity, who contrary to the -custom of her Sex, which seldom forgives an affront -of that kind, made it her study to serve the Man who -had refus’d her, and make her Rival blest.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">These</span> Testimonies of a grateful Acknowledgement -being over, <i>Frankville</i> told the Count, he believ’d -the most, and indeed the only effectual Means -to extinguish <i>Camilla’s</i> Resentment wou’d be entirely -to remove the Cause, which cou’d be done no other -way, than by giving her a full Account of <i>Ciamara’s</i> -behaviour, while she pass’d for her: <i>D’elmont</i> readily<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span> -consented, and thought it not at all inconsistent with -his Honour to Expose that of a Woman who had -shewn so little Value for it herself: And when he saw -that <i>Frankville</i> had finish’d his Letter, which was very -long, for Lovers cannot easily come to a Conclusion, -he offer’d to write a Note to her, enclos’d in the other, -which shou’d serve as an Evidence of the Truth of -what he had alledged in his Vindication: <i>Frankville</i> -gladly embrac’d the kind Proposal, and the other immediately -made it good in these Words.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To <i>Donna</i> <span class="smcap">Camilla</span>.</p> - -<p>Madam,</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">If</span> the Severity of your Justice requires a <span class="antiqua">Victim</span>, -I only am Guilty, who being Impos’d upon my self, -<span class="antiqua">endeavour’d</span>, for I cannot say I cou’d <span class="antiqua">Accomplish</span> it, -to involve the Unfortunate <span class="antiqua">Frankville</span> in the same -fatal Error, and at last, prevail’d on him to <span class="antiqua">Write</span>, -what he cou’d not be brought, by all my Arguments -to <span class="antiqua">Think</span>.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Let</span> the Cause which led me to take this Freedom, -excuse the Presumption of it, which, from one so much -a Stranger, wou’d be else unpardonable: But when we -are conscious of a Crime, the first reparation we can -make to Innocence, is, to acknowledge we have offended; -and, if the Confession of my Faults, may purchase an -Absolution for my Friend, I shall account it the noblest -Work of Supererogation.</i></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">Be</span> assur’d, that as inexorable as you are, your utmost -Rigour wou’d find its Satisfaction, if you cou’d be -sensible of what I suffer in a sad Repentance for my Sin -of injuring so Heavenly a Virtue, and perhaps, in time -be mov’d by it, to Pity and Forgive</i></p> - -<p class="center">The Unhappily deceiv’d</p> - -<p class="right">D’elmont.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> time in which they had done Writing, immediately -brought on that of <i>Violetta</i>’s Appointment, -and the Count wou’d needs accompany Monsieur -<i>Frankville</i> in this Assignation, saying, he had an acknowledgment -to pay to that Lady, which he thought -himself oblig’d, in good Manners and Gratitude, to -take this Opportunity to do; and the other being of -the same Opinion, they went together to St. <i>Peter</i>’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Prayers were done, which, ’tis probable, -<i>One</i> of these Gentlemen, if not <i>Both</i>, might think -too tedious, they stood up, and looking round, impatiently -expected when the promis’d Signal shou’d -be given; but among the great Number of Ladies, -which pass’d by them, there were very few, who did -not stop a little to gaze on these two Accomplish’d -<i>Chevaliers</i>, and they were several times Tantaliz’d -with an <i>imaginary</i> Violetta, before the <i>real</i> one appear’d. -But when the Crowd were almost dispers’d, -and they began to fear some Accident had prevented -her coming, the long expected Token was let fall, -and she who threw it, trip’d hastily away to the farther -end of the <i>Collonade</i>, which hapned to be entirely -void of Company: The Count and his Companion, -were not long behind her, and Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> -being the Person chiefly concern’d, address’d himself -to her in this manner; With what Words, Madam, -said he, can a Man so infinitely Oblig’d, and so desirous -to be Grateful, as <i>Frankville</i>, sufficiently make<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span> -known his admiration of a Generosity like yours? -Such an unbounded Goodness, shames all Discription! -Makes Language vile, since it affords no Phrase to suit -your Worth, or speak the mighty Sense my Soul has -of it. I have no other Aim, reply’d she, in what I -have done, than Justice; and ’tis only in the proof of -your sincerity to <i>Camilla</i>, that I am to be thank’d. -<i>Frankville</i> was about to answer with some assurances -of his Faith, when the Count stepping forward, prevented -him: My Friend, Madam, said he bowing, is -most happy in having it in his Power to obey a Command, -which is the utmost of his Wishes; but how -must I acquit my self of any part of that Return which -is due to you, for that generous Care you have been -pleas’d to express for the preservation of my Life? -There needs no more, interrupted she, with a perceivable -alteration in her Voice, than to have <i>seen</i> -Count <i>D’elmont</i>, to be interested in his Concerns--she -paus’d a little after speaking these Words, and then, as -if she thought she had said too much, turn’d hastily to -<i>Frankville</i>, the Letter, <i>Monsieur</i>, continu’d she, the -Letter,---’tis not impossible but we may be observ’d,---I -tremble with the apprehension of a Discovery: -<i>Frankville</i> immediately deliver’d it to her, but saw -so much Disorder in her Gesture, that it very much -surpriz’d him: She trembled indeed, but whether occasioned -by any danger she perceiv’d of being taken -notice of, or some other secret Agitation she felt within, -was then unknown to any but herself, but whatever -it was, it transported her so far, as to make her -quit the Place, without being able to take any other -Leave than a hasty <i>Curtisie</i>, and bidding <i>Frankville</i> -meet her the next Morning at <i>Mattins</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Here</span> was a new Cause of Disquiet to <i>D’elmont</i>; -the Experience he had of the too fatal influence of his -dangerous Attractions, gave him sufficient Reason to -fear this young Lady was not insensible of them, and -that his Presence was the sole Cause of her Disorder; -however, he said nothing of it to <i>Frankville</i> ’till the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span> -other mentioning it to him, and repeating her Words, -they both joyn’d in the Opinion, that Love had been -too busy in her Heart, and that it was the feeling the -Effects of it in herself, had inclined her to so much -Compassion for the Miseries she saw it inflicted upon -others. The Count very well knew that when Desires -of this Kind are springing in the Soul, every -Sight of the beloved Object, encreases their growth, -and therefore, tho’ her generous manner of Proceeding -had created in him a very great Esteem, and he -wou’d have been pleas’d with her Conversation, yet he -ceas’d to wish a farther Acquaintance with her, lest it -should render her more Unhappy, and forbore going -the next Day to Church with <i>Frankville</i>, as else he -wou’d have done.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Violetta</span> fail’d not to come as she had promis’d, -but instead of dropping her Handkerchief, as -she had done the Evening before, she knelt as close to -him as she cou’d, and pulling him gently by the Sleeve, -oblig’d him to regard her, who else, not knowing her, -wou’d not have suspected she was so near, and slip’d -a Note into his Hand, bidding him softly, not take -any farther notice of her: He obey’d, but ’tis reasonable -to believe, was too impatient to know what the -Contents were, to listen with much Attention and Devotion -to the remainder of the Ceremony; as soon -he was releas’d, he got into a Corner of the <i>Cathedral</i>, -where, unobserv’d he might satisfy a Curiosity, which -none who Love, will condemn him for, any more -than they will for the thrilling Extacy which fill’d -his Soul at the Reading these Lines.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 125px;"> -<img src="images/footer4.jpg" width="125" height="125" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break7.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">To Monsieur <span class="smcap">Frankville</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">For</span> fear I should not have an Opportunity of speaking -to you, in safety, I take this Method to inform -you, that I have been so Successful in my Negotiation, -as to make <span class="antiqua">Camilla</span> repent the Severity of her Sentence, -and wish for nothing more than to recall it: you are -now entirely justified in her Opinion, by the Artifice -which was made use of to Deceive you, and she is, I -believe, no less enrag’d at <span class="antiqua">Ciamara</span>, for depriving her of -that Letter you sent by the <span class="antiqua">Count</span>, than she was at you -for that unkind one, which came to her Hands. She -is now under less restraint, since <span class="antiqua">Brione</span>’s Report of her -Behaviour to you, and the everlasting Resentment she -vow’d, and I have prevail’d on her to accompany me -in a Visit I am to make, to morrow in the Evening, to -<span class="antiqua">Donna Clara Metteline</span>, a Nun, in the Monastery of St. -<span class="antiqua">Augustine</span>, and if you will meet us there, I believe it -not impossible but she may be brought to a Confession of -all I have discover’d to you of her Thoughts.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">The</span> <span class="antiqua">Count’s</span> Letter was of no small Service to you, -for tho’ without that Evidence she wou’d have been -convinc’d of your Constancy, yet she wou’d hardly have -acknowledged she was so! and if he will take the Pains -to come with you to morrow I believe his Company will be -acceptable, if you think it proper; you may let him know -as much from</i></p> - -<p class="right">Violetta.</p> - -<p>P.S. <i>I beg a thousand Pardons both of you and the -<span class="antiqua">Count</span>, for the abruptness of my Departure last Night; -something happen’d to give me a Confusion from which -I cou’d not at that time recover, but hope for the future -to be more Mistress of my self.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Monsieur</span> <i>Frankville</i> hasted to the <i>Count</i>’s -Lodgings, to communicate his good Fortune, but -found him in a Humour very unfit for Congratulations; -the Post had just brought him a Letter from -his Brother, the Chevalier <i>Brillian</i>, the Contents -whereof were these.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break11.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To Count</i> <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">’Tis</span> with an inexpressible Grief that I obey the -Command you left me, for giving you from Time to -time an exact Account of <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span>’s Affairs, since what I -have now to acquaint you with, will make you stand in -Need of all your Moderation to support it. But, not -to keep your Expectation on the Rack, loth as I am, I -must inform you, that <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span> is, by some unknown -Ravisher stolen from the Monastery----The manner of -it, (as I have since learn’d from those who were with -her) was thus: As she was walking in the Fields, behind -the Cloyster Gardens, accompanied by some young -Lady’s, Pensioners there as well as her self, four Men -well mounted, but Disguis’d and Muffled, rode up to -them, three of them jump’d off their Horses, and while -one seiz’d on the defenceless Prey; and bore her to his -Arms, who was not alighted, the other two caught hold -of her Companions, and prevented the Out-cries they -would have made, ’till she was carry’d out of sight, -then Mounting again their Horses, immediately lost the -amaz’d Virgins all Hopes of recovering her.</i></p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">I conjure</span> my dearest Brother to believe there has -been nothing omitted for the Discovery of this Villany,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span> -but in spite of all the Pains and Care we have taken in -the search; None of us have yet been happy enough -to hear the least Account of her: That my next may -bring you more welcome News, is the first wish of</i></p> - -<p class="center">My Lord,</p> - -<p class="center">Your Lordship’s most Zealously Affectionate Brother, and Humble Servant</p> - -<p class="right"><i>Brillian</i>.</p> - -<p>P.S. <i><span class="smcap">There</span> are some People here, Malicious -enough to Report, that the Design of carrying away -<span class="antiqua">Melliora</span>, was contriv’d by you, and that it is in <span class="antiqua">Rome</span> -she only can be found. It wou’d be of great Advantage -to my Peace, if I cou’d be of the Number of those -who believe it, but I am too well acquainted with your -Principles to harbour such a Thought. Once more, -my dear Lord, for this Time, <span class="antiqua">Adieu</span>.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the Count had given this Letter to <i>Frankville</i> -to read, he told him, he was resolv’d to leave -<i>Rome</i> the next Day, that nobody had so great an Interest -in her Recovery as himself, that he would Trust -the Search of her to no other, and swore with the -most dreadful Imprecations he could make, never to -rest, but wander, <i>Knight-Errand</i> like, over the whole -World ’till he had found her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> was extreamly concern’d -at what had happen’d to his Sister, yet he endeavour’d -to disswade the Count from leaving <i>Rome</i>, -’till he knew the result of his own Affair with <i>Camilla</i>; -but all his Arguments were for a long time ineffectual, -’till, at last, showing him <i>Violetta</i>’s Letter, -he prevail’d on him to defer his Journey ’till they had -first seen <i>Camilla</i>, on Condition, that if she persisted -in her Rigour, he shou’d give over any further fruitless -Solicitations, and accompany him to <i>Paris</i>: This -<i>Frankville</i> promis’d to perform, and they pass’d the -time in very uneasy and impatient Cogitations, ’till -the next Day about Five in the Evening they prepar’d -for the Appointment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span></p> - -<p>Count <i>D’elmont</i> and his longing Companion, were -the first at the Rendezvous, but in a very little while they -perceiv’d two Women coming towards them: The -Idea of <i>Camilla</i> was always too much in <i>Frankville</i>’s -Thoughts, not to make him know her, by that -charming Air (which he so much ador’d her for) -tho’ she was Veil’d never so closely, and the Moment -he had sight of them, Oh Heaven (cry’d he to <i>D’elmont</i>) -yonder she comes, that,----that my Lord, is -the divine <i>Camilla</i>, as they came pretty near, she that indeed -prov’d to be <i>Camilla</i>, was turning on one Side, in -order to go to the Grate where she expected the <i>Nun</i>. -Hold! Hold <i>Donna Camilla</i>, cry’d <i>Violetta</i>, I cannot -suffer you shou’d pass by your Friends with an Air so -unconcern’d, if Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> has done any thing -to merit your Displeasure, my Lord the Count certainly -deserves your Notice, in the Pains he has taken -to undeceive you. One so much a Stranger as Count -<i>D’elmont</i> is, answer’d she, may very well excuse my -Thanks for an explanation, which had he been acquainted -with me he would have spar’d. Cruel <i>Camilla!</i> -Said <i>Frankville</i>, is then the knowledge of my -Innocence unwelcome?---Am I become so hateful, -or are you so chang’d, that you wish me guilty, for a -justification of your Rigour? If it be so, I have no -Remedy but Death, which tho’ you depriv’d me of, -the last time I saw you, I now can find a Thousand -means to compass; he pronounc’d these Words in so -Tender, yet so resolv’d an Accent; that <i>Camilla</i> cou’d -not conceal part of the Impression they made on her, -and putting her Handkerchief to her Eyes, which in -spite of all she had done to prevent it, overflow’d -with Tears; talk not of Death, said she, I am not -Cruel to that degree, Live <i>Frankville</i>, Live!----but -Live without <i>Camilla!</i> Oh, ’tis impossible! Resum’d -he, the latter part of your Command entirely -destroys the first.---Life without your Love, would -be a Hell, which I confess my Soul’s a Coward, but -to think of.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Count and <i>Violetta</i> were Silent all this Time, -and perceiving they were in a fair way of Reconciliation,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span> -thought the best they cou’d do to forward it, -was to leave ’em to themselves, and walking a few -Paces from them; You suffer my Lord, said the, for -your Generosity in accompanying your Friend, since -it condemns you to the Conversation of a Person, -who has neither <i>Wit</i>, nor <i>Gaiety</i> sufficient to make -her self Diverting. Those, reply’d he, who wou’d -make the Excellent <i>Violetta</i> a Subject of Diversion, -ought never to be blest with the Company of any, but -such Women who merit not a serious Regard: But you -indeed, were your Soul capable of descending to the -Follies of your Sex, wou’d be extreamly at a Loss in Conversation -so little Qualify’d as mine, to please the Vanities -of the Fair; and you stand in need of all those more than -<i>Manly</i> Virtues you possess, to pardon a <i>Chagreen</i>, which -even your Presence cannot Dissipate: If it cou’d, interrupted -she, I assure your Lordship, I shou’d much more -<i>rejoice</i> in the happy Effects of it on you, than <i>Pride</i> my -self in the Power of such an Influence--And yet continu’d -she with a Sigh, I am a very Woman, and if -free from the usual Affectations and Vanities of my -Sex, I am not so from Faults, perhaps, less worthy of -forgiveness: The Count cou’d not presently resolve -what reply to make to these Words; he was unwilling -she should believe he wanted Complaisance, and afraid -of saying any thing that might give room for a Declaration -of what he had no Power of answering to -her wish; but after the consideration of a Moment -or two, Madam, said he, tho’ I dare not Question -your Sincerity in any other Point, yet you must give -me leave to disbelieve you in this, not only, because, -in my Opinion, there is nothing so contemptibly ridiculous -as that self sufficiency, and vain desire of pleasing, -commonly known by the Name of <i>Coquetry</i>, -but also, because she who escapes the Contagion of this -Error, will not without much difficulty be led into any -other: Alas my Lord, cry’d <i>Violetta</i>, how vastly wide -of Truth is this Affection? That very foible, which -is most pernicious to our Sex, is chiefly by <i>Coquetry</i> -prevented: I need not tell you that ’tis Love I mean,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span> -and as blamable as you think the <i>one</i>, I believe the -<i>other</i> wou’d find less favour from a Person of your -Lordship’s Judgment: How Madam, interrupted the -Count, pretty warmly, have I the Character of a Stoick?---Or -do you, imagine that my Soul, is compos’d -that course Stuff, not to be capable of receiving, or -approving a Passion, which, all the Brave, and generous -think it their glory to Profess, and which can only -give refin’d delight, to Minds enobled.----But I perceive, -continu’d he growing more cool, I am not -happy enough in your Esteem, to be thought worthy -the Influence of that God. Still you mistake my -Meaning, said <i>Violetta</i>, I doubt not of your Sensibility, -were there a possibility of finding a Woman worthy -of Inspiring you with soft Desires; and if that shou’d -ever happen, Love wou’d be so far from being a -weakness, that it wou’d serve rather as an Embelishment -to your other Graces; it’s only when we stoop -to Objects below our Consideration, or vainly wing -our wishes to those above our Hopes, that makes us -appear ridiculous or contemptible; but either of these -is a Folly which,----which the incomparable <i>Violetta</i>, -interrupted <i>D’elmont</i>, never can be guilty of: You -have a very good Opinion of my Wit resum’d she, in -a melancholly Tone, but I shou’d be much happier -than I am, if I were sure I cou’d secure my self from -doing any thing to forfeit it: I believe, reply’d the -Count there are not many things you have less Reason -to apprehend than such a Change; and I am confident -were I to stay in <i>Rome</i> as many <i>Ages</i>, as I am -determin’d to do but <i>Hours</i>, I shou’d, at last, leave it, -with the same Esteem and Admiration of your singular -Vertues, as I now shall do. <i>Violetta</i> cou’d not prevent -the Disorder these Words put her into, from discovering -it self in the Accent of her Voice, when, -How! My Lord, said she, are we then to lose you?---Lose -you in so short a Time? As the Count was -about to answer, <i>Frankville</i> and <i>Camilla</i> joyn’d them, -and looking on <i>Frankville</i>, if any Credit, said he, may -be given to the Language of the Eyes, I am certain<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span> -yours speak Success, and I may congratulate a Happiness -you lately cou’d not be persuaded to hope; had -I a thousand Eyes, cry’d the transported Lover, a -thousand Tongues, they all wou’d be but insignificant -to express the Joy!----the unbounded Extacy, my -Soul is full of,----but take the mighty Meaning in -one Word,----<i>Camilla</i>’s mine---for ever mine!---the -Storm is past, and all the sunny Heaven of Love -returns to bless my future Days with ceaseless Raptures: -Now, my Lord, I am ready to attend you in -your Journey, this Bright! This beauteous Guardian -Angel, will partake our Flight! And we have nothing -now to do, but to prepare with secrecy and speed -fit means for our Escape. As soon as <i>Frankville</i> had -left off speaking, Count <i>D’elmont</i> addressing himself -to <i>Camilla</i>, made her abundance of Retributions, for -the happiness she gave his Friend, which she receiving -with a becoming Chearfulness, and unaffected -Gaiety, I am afraid said she, your Lordship will think -a Woman’s Resolution is, henceforth, little worth regarding; -but, continu’d she, taking <i>Violetta</i> by the -Hand, I see well, that this unfaithful Creature, has betray’d -me, and to punish her Infidelity, will, by leaving -her, put it out of her Power to deceive my Confidence -again: <i>Violetta</i> either did not hear, or was not -in a condition to return her <i>Raillery</i>, nor the Praises -which the Count and Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> concurr’d -in of her Generosity, but stood motionless and lost in -Thought, till <i>Camilla</i> seeing it grow towards Night, -told the Gentlemen, she thought it best to part, not -only to avoid any Suspicion at Home of their being -out so long, but also that the others might order every -thing proper for their Departure, which it was agreed -on between <i>Frankville</i> and her, should be the next -Night, to prevent the Success of those mischievous -Designs she knew <i>Ciamara</i> and <i>Cittolini</i> were forming, -against both the Count and Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Matters</span> being thus adjusted to the entire Satisfaction -of the Lovers, and not in a much less proportion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span> -to the Count, they all thought it best to avoid making -any more Appointments till they met to part no -more; which was to be at the Wicket at dead of -Night. When the Count took leave of <i>Violetta</i>, this -being the last time he cou’d expect to see her; she was -hardly able to return his Civilities, and much less to -answer those which <i>Frankville</i> made her, after the -Count had turn’d from her to give him way; both -of them guess’d the Cause of her Confusion, and <i>D’elmont</i> -felt a concern in observing it, which nothing -but that for <i>Melliora</i> cou’d surpass.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next Day found full Employment for them -all; but the Count, as well as <i>Frankville</i>, was too impatient -to be gone, to neglect any thing requisite for -their Departure, there was not the least particular -wanting, long before the time they were to wait at -the Wicket for <i>Camilla</i>’s coming forth: The Count’s -Lodging being the nearest, they stay’d there, watching -for the long’d for Hour; but a little before it arriv’d, -a Youth, who seem’d to be about 13 or 14 -Years of Age, desir’d to be admitted to the Count’s -presence, which being granted, pulling a Letter out -of his Pocket, and blushing as he approach’d him: I -come my Lord, said he, from <i>Donna Violetta</i>, the -Contents of this will inform you on what Business; -but lest the Treachery of others, shou’d render me suspected, -permit me to break it open, and prove it carries -no Infection: The Count look’d earnestly on him -while he spoke, and was strangely taken with the uncommon -Beauty and Modesty which he observ’d in -him: You need not give your self the trouble of that -Experiment, answer’d he, <i>Donna Violetta</i>’s Name, -and your own engaging Aspect, are sufficient Credentials, -if I were liable to doubt; in saying this, he -took the Letter, and full of Fears that some Accident -had happen’d to <i>Camilla</i>, which might retard their -Journey, hastily read over these Lines.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To the Worthy</i> Count <span class="smcap">D’elmont</span>.</p> - -<p>My <span class="smcap">Lord</span>,</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">If</span> any Part of that Esteem you Profess’d to have -for me, be real, you will not deny the Request I -make you to accept this Youth, who is my Relation, -in Quality of a Page: He is inclin’d to Travel, and -of all Places, <span class="antiqua">France</span> is that which he is most desirous -of going to: If a diligent <span class="antiqua">Care</span>, a faithful Secresy, and an -Unceasing watchfulness to please, can render him acceptable -to your Service, I doubt not but he will, by -those, Recomend himself, hereafter: In the mean Time -beg you will receive him on my Word: And if that will -be any Inducement to prejudice you in his Favour, I -assure you, that tho’ he is one degree nearer in Blood -to my Father, he is by many in Humour and Principles -to</i></p> - -<p class="right">Violetta.</p> - -<p>P.S. <i>May Health Safety and Prosperity attend you -in your Journey, and all the Happiness you wish for, -crown the End.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Young <i>Fidelio</i>, for so he was call’d, cou’d -not wish to be receiv’d with greater Demonstrations of -Kindness than those the Count gave him: And perceiving -that <i>Violetta</i> had trusted him with the whole -Affair of their leaving <i>Rome</i> in private, doubted not -of his Conduct, and consulted with him, who they -found knew the Place perfectly well, after what -manner they should Watch, with the least danger of -being discover’d, for <i>Camilla</i>’s opening the Wicket: -<i>Frankville</i> was for going alone, lest if any of the Servants -shou’d happen to be about, one Person would be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span> -less liable to suspicion, than it a Company were seen; -the Count thought it most proper to go all together, -remembring <i>Frankville</i> of the danger he had lately -scap’d, and might again be brought into; but <i>Fidelio</i> -told them, he wou’d advise that they two should remain -conceal’d in the <i>Portico</i>, of the Convent of St. -<i>Francis</i>, while himself wou’d watch alone at the Wicket -for <i>Camilla</i>, and lead her to them, and then afterwards -they might go altogether to that Place where the -Horses and Servants shou’d attend them; the Page’s -Counsel was approv’d by both of them, and the time -being arriv’d, what they had contriv’d was immediately -put in Execution.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Every</span> thing happen’d according to their Desire, -<i>Camilla</i> got safely to the Arms of her impatient -Lover, and they all taking Horse, rode with such -Speed, as some of them wou’d have been little able -to bear, if any thing less than Life and Love had been -at Stake.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Their</span> eager wishes, and the goodness of their -Horses brought them, before Day-break many Miles -from <i>Rome</i>; but tho’ they avoided all high Roads, and -travell’d cross the Country to prevent being met, or -overtook by any that might know them, yet their -desire of seeing themselves in a Place of Security was -so great that they refus’d to stop to take any Refreshment -’till the next Day was almost spent; but -when they were come into the House where they -were to lye that Night, not all the fatigue they had -endur’d, kept the Lovers from giving and receiving -all the Testimonies imaginable of mutual Affection.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> sight of their Felicity added new Wings to -Count <i>D’elmont</i>’s impatience to recover <i>Melliora</i>, but -when he consider’d the little probability of that hope, -he grew inconsolable, and his new Page <i>Fidelio</i>, who -lay on a <i>Pallet</i> in the same Room with him, put all -his Wit, of which he had no small Stock, upon the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span> -stretch to divert his Sorrows, he talk’d to him, sung -to him, told him a hundred pretty Stories, and, in fine, -made good the Character <i>Violetta</i> had given him so -well, that the Count look’d on him as a Blessing sent -from Heaven to lessen his Misfortunes, and make his -Woes sit easy.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> continu’d Travelling with the same Expedition -as when they first set out, for three or four Days, -but then, believing themselves secure from any Pursuit, -began to slacken their Pace, and make the Journey -more delightful to <i>Camilla</i> and <i>Fidelio</i>, who not -being accustomed to ride in that manner, wou’d never -have been able to support it, if the strength of their -<i>Minds</i>, had not by far, exceeded that of their <i>Bodies</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> had gone so much about, in seeking the -By-roads, that they made it three times as long before -they arriv’d at <i>Avigno</i>, a small Village on the Borders -of <i>Italy</i>, as any, that had come the direct way -wou’d have done; but the Caution they had observ’d, -was not altogether needless, as they presently found.</p> - -<p>A Gentleman who had been a particular Acquaintance -of Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>’s, overtook them at this -Place, and after expressing some Amazement to find -’em no farther on their Journey, told Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> -he believ’d he cou’d inform him of some things -which had happen’d since his Departure, and cou’d -not yet have reach’d his Knowledge, which the other -desiring him to do, the Gentleman began in this manner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was no sooner Day, said he, than it was nois’d -over all the City, that Donna <i>Camilla</i>, Count <i>D’elmont</i>, -and your self, had privately left <i>Rome</i>; every -Body spoke of it, according to their Humour; but the -Friends of <i>Ciamara</i> and <i>Cittolini</i> were outragious, a -Complaint was immediately made to the <i>Consistory</i>, -and all imaginable Deligence us’d, to overtake, or stop<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span> -you, but you were so happy as to Escape, and the -Pursuers return’d without doing any thing of what -they went about: Tho’ <i>Cittolini</i>’s disappointment to -all appearance, was the greatest, yet <i>Ciamara</i> bore it -with the least Patience, and having vainly rag’d, offer’d -all the Treasure she was Mistress of, and perhaps spent -the best part of it in fruitless means to bring you back, -at last she swallow’d Poison, and in the raving agonies -of Death, confess’d, that it was not the loss of <i>Camilla</i>, -but Count <i>D’elmont</i> which was the Cause of her Despair: -Her Death gave a fresh occasion of Grief to -<i>Cittolini</i>, but the Day in which she was interr’d, -brought him yet a nearer; he had sent to his <i>Villa</i> for -his Daughter <i>Violetta</i> to assist at the Funeral, and the -Messenger return’d with the surprizing Account of her -not having been there as she pretended she was, nothing -was ever equal to the Rage, the Grief, and the -Amazement of this distracted Father, when after the -strictest Enquiry, and Search that cou’d be made, she -was no where to be found or heard of, it threw him -into a Fever, of which he linger’d but a small Time, -and dy’d the same Day on which I left <i>Rome</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Gentleman who made this recital, was entirely a -Stranger to any of the Company but Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>, -and they were retired into a private Room during -the time of their Conversation, which lasted not -long; <i>Frankville</i>, was impatient to communicate to -Camilla and <i>D’elmont</i> what he had heard, and as soon -as Civility wou’d permit, took leave of the Gentleman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Count had too much Compassion in his Nature -not to be extreamly troubled when he was told -this melancholly Catastrophe; but <i>Camilla</i> said little; -the ill usage of <i>Ciamara</i>, and the impudent, and interested -Pretensions of <i>Cittolini</i> to her, kept her from -being so much <i>concern’d</i> at their Misfortunes, as she -wou’d have been at any other Persons, and the generosity -of her Temper, or some other Reason which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span> -the Reader will not be ignorant of, hereafter, from -expressing any <i>Satisfaction</i> in the Punishment they had -met: But when the Count, who most of all lamented -<i>Violetta</i>, express’d his Astonishment and Affliction, at -her Elopement, she joyn’d with him in the Praises -of that young Lady, with an eagerness which testify’d, -she had no part in the Hatred she bore her Father.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">While</span> they were discoursing, <i>Camilla</i> observ’d, -that <i>Fidelio</i> who was all this while in the Room, grew -very pale, and at last saw him drop on the Ground, -quite Senseless, she run to him, as did his Lord, and -Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>, and after, by throwing Water -in his Face, they brought him to himself again, he -appear’d in such an Agony that they fear’d his Fit wou’d -return, and order’d him to be laid on a Bed, and -carefully attended.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> they had taken a short Repast, they began -to think of setting forward on their Journey, designing -to reach <i>Piedmont</i> that Night: The Count -went himself to the Chamber where his Page was -laid, and finding he was very ill, told him he thought -it best for him to remain in that Place, that he wou’d -order Physicians to attend him, and that when he was -fully recover’d, he might follow them to <i>Paris</i> with -Safety. <i>Fidelio</i> was ready to faint a second time at -the hearing these Words, and with the most earnest -Conjurations, accompany’d with Tears, begg’d that he -might not be left behind: I can but die, said he, if -I go with you, but I am sure, that nothing if I stay -can <i>save</i> me: The Count seeing him so pressing, sent -for a <i>Litter</i>, but there was none to be got, and in spite -of what <i>Camilla</i> or <i>Frankville</i> cou’d say to diswade -him, having his Lord’s Leave, he ventured to attend -him as he had done the former part of the Journey.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> Travell’d at an easy rate, because of <i>Fidelio</i>’s -Indisposition, and it being later than they imagin’d, -Night came upon ’em before they were aware of it,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span> -Usher’d in, by one of the most dreadful Storms that -ever was; the Rain, the Hail; the Thunder, and the -Lightning, was so Violent that it oblig’d ’em to mend -their Pace to get into some Place of shelter, for there -was no House near: But to make their Misfortune -the greater, they miss’d the Road, and rode considerably -out of their way, before they perceiv’d that -they were wrong; the darkness of the Night, which -had no Illumination than, now and then, a horrid flash -of Lightning, the wildness of the Desart, which they -had stray’d into, and the little Hopes they had of being -able to get out of it, at least till Day, were sufficient -to have struck Terror in the boldest Heart: <i>Camilla</i> -stood in need of all her Love, to Protect her -from the Fears which were beginning to Assault her; -but poor <i>Fidelio</i> felt an inward Horror, which, by -this dreadful Scene encreas’d, made him appear wholly -desparate: Wretch that I am, cry’d he, ’tis for me -the Tempest rises! I justly have incurr’d the wrath -of Heaven,---and you who are Innocent, by my -accurs’d Presence are drawn to share a Punishment -only due to Crimes like Mine! In this manner he exclaim’d -wringing his Hands in bitter Anguish, and -rather <i>Exposing</i> his lovely Face to all the Fury of the -Storm, than any way endeavouring to <i>Defend</i> it: His -Lord, and the two generous Lovers, tho’ Harass’d -almost to Death themselves, said all they cou’d to -comfort him; the Count and Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> -consider’d his Words, rather as the Effects of his Indisposition, -and the fatigue he endur’d, than remorse -for any Crime he cou’d have been guilty of, and the -pity they had for one so young and innocent, made -the cruelty of the Weather more insupportable to them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">At</span> last, after long wandring, and the Tempest -still encreasing, one of the Servants, who was before, -was happy enough to explore a Path, and -cry’d out to his Lord with a great deal of Joy, of -the Discovery he had made; they were all of Opinion -that it must lead to some House, because the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span> -Ground was beat down, as if with the Feet of Passengers, -and entirely free from Stubble, Stones and stumps -of Trees, as the other part of the Desart they come -thro’ was Encumber’d with.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> had not rode very far before they discern’d -Lights, the Reader may imagine the Joy this Sight -produc’d, and that they were not slow in making -their approach, Encourag’d by such a wish’d for Signal -of Success: When they came pretty near, they saw -by the Number of Lights, which were dispers’d in -several Rooms distant from each other, that it was a -very large and magnificent House, and made no doubt, -but that it was the Country-Seat of some Person of -great Quality: The wet Condition they were in, made -them almost asham’d of appearing, and they agreed -not to Discover who they were, if they found they -were unknown.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> had no sooner knock’d, than the Gate was -immediately open’d by a Porter, who asking their -Business, the Count told him they were Gentlemen, -who had been so Unfortunate to mistake the Road -to <i>Piedmont</i>, and desir’d the Owners leave for Refuge -in his House, for that Night; that is a Curtesy, said -the Porter, which my Lord never refuses; and in Confidence -of his Assent, I may venture to desire you to -alight, and bid you welcome: They all accepted the -Invitation, and were conducted into a stately Hall, -where they waited not long before the Marquess <i>De -Saguillier</i>, having been inform’d they appear’d like -People of Condition, came himself to confirm the -Character his Servant had given of his Hospitality. He -was a Man perfectly well Bred, and in spite of the -Disadvantages their Fatigue had subjected them to, he -saw something in the Countenance of these Travellers, -which commanded his Respect, and engag’d him -to receive them with a more than ordinary Civility.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Almost</span> the first thing the Count desir’d, was, -that his Page might be taken care of; he was presently -carry’d to Bed, and <i>Camilla</i> (to whom the Marquess -made a thousand Apologies, that being a Batchellor, -he cou’d not Accommodate her, as he cou’d the -Gentlemen) was show’d to a Chamber, where some -of the Maid Servants attended to put her on dry -Cloaths.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">They</span> were splendidly Entertain’d that Night, -and when Morning came, and they were preparing -to take Leave, the Marquess, who was strangely -Charm’d with their Conversation, Entreated them to stay -two or three Days with him, to recover themselves of -the Fatigue they had suffer’d: The Count’s impatience -to be at <i>Paris</i>, to enquire after his Dear <i>Melliora</i>, wou’d -never have permitted him to consent, if he had not -been oblig’d to it, by being told, that <i>Fidelio</i> was grown -much worse, and not in a Condition to Travel; <i>Frankville</i> -and <i>Camilla</i> had said nothing, because they wou’d -not Oppose the <i>Count</i>’s Inclination, but were extreamly -glad of an Opportunity to rest a little longer, tho -sorry for the Occasion.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Marquess omitted nothing that might make -their Stay agreeable; but tho’ he had a longing Inclination -to know the Names, and Quality of his -Guests, he forbore to ask, since he found they were -not free to discover themselves: The Conversation -between these accomplish’d Persons was extreamly -Entertaining, and <i>Camilla</i>, tho’ an <i>Italian</i>, spoke -<i>French</i> well enough to make no inconsiderable part -of it; the Themes of their Discourse were various, -but at last happning to mention Love, the Marquess -spoke of that Passion so feelingly, and express’d himself -so vigorously when he attempted to excuse any -of those Errors, it leads its Votaries into, that it was -easy to Discover, he felt the Influence he endeavour’d -to represent.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Night</span> came on again, <i>Fidelio</i>’s Distemper encreas’d -to that degree, that they all began to despair -of his Recovery, at least they cou’d not hope it for -a long Time, if at all, and Count <i>D’elmont</i> fretted -beyond measure at this unavoidable delay of the progress -of his Journey to that Place, where he thought -there was only a possibility of hearing of <i>Melliora</i>: -As he was in Bed, forming a thousand various Idea’s, -tho’ all tending to one Object, he heard the Chamber -Door unlock, and opening his Curtains perceiv’d -somebody come in; a Candle was burning in the next -Room, and gave Light enough at the opening the -Door, to show it was a Woman, but what Sort -of one he cou’d not Discern, nor did he give himself -the trouble of asking who was there, believing it -might be one of the Servants come in to fetch something -she wanted, ’till coming pretty near the Bed, -she cry’d twice in a low Voice, are you a Sleep, no, -answer’d he, a little surpriz’d at this Disturbance; what -wou’d you have? I come said she, to talk to you, -and I hope you are more a <i>Chevalier</i>, than to prefer -a little Sleep, to the Conversation of a Lady, tho’ she -Visits you at Midnight: These words made <i>D’elmont</i> -believe he had met with a second <i>Ciamara</i>, and lest he -shou’d find the same Trouble with this as he had done -with the former, he resolv’d to put a stop to it at once, -and with an Accent as peevish as he cou’d turn his -Voice to, the Conversation of Ladies reply’d he, is a -Happiness I neither Deserve, nor much Desire at any -Time, especially at this; therefore whoever you are, -to oblige me, you must leave me to the freedom of -my Thoughts, which at present afford me matter of -Entertainment more suitable to my Humour than any -thing I can find here! Oh Heavens! Said the Lady, -is this the Courtly, the Accomplish’d Count <i>D’elmont</i>? -So fam’d for Complaisance and Sweetness? Can it be -he, who thus rudely Repels a Lady, when she comes -to make him a Present of her Heart? The Count was -very much amaz’d to find he was known in a Place<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span> -where he thought himself wholly a Stranger, I perceive, -answer’d he, with more Ill-humour if possible, -than before, you are very well acquainted with my -Name, which I shall never deny (tho’ for some Reasons -I conceal’d it) but not at all with my Character, -or you wou’d know, I can esteem the Love of a Woman, -only when ’tis <i>Granted</i>, and think it little worth -acceptance, <i>Proffer’d</i>. Oh unkind! Said she, but perhaps -the sight of me, may inspire you with Sentiments -less Cruel: With these Words she went hastily -out of the Room to fetch the Candle she had left within; -and the Count was so much surpriz’d and vex’d -at the Immodesty and Imprudence he believ’d her -Guilty of, that he thought he cou’d not put a greater -affront upon her, than her Behaviour deserv’d, and -turn’d himself with his Face the other way, designing -to deny her the satisfaction even of a look; she return’d -immediately, and having set down the Candle -pretty near the Bed, came close to it her self, and seeing -how he was laid; this is unkind indeed, said she, -’tis but one look I ask, and if you think me unworthy -of another, I will for ever shun your Eyes: The -Voice in which these Words were deliver’d, for those -she spoke before were in a feign’d Accent, made the -Heart-ravish’d <i>D’elmont</i> turn to her indeed, with much -more hast, than he had done to avoid her; those Dear, -those well-remember’d sounds infus’d an Extacy, which -none but <i>Melliora</i>’s cou’d create; he hear’d---he saw,---’twas -she, that very she, whose Loss he had so much -deplor’d, and began almost to despair of ever being able -to Retrieve! Forgetting all Decorum, he flew out -of the Bed, catch’d her in his Arms, and almost stifl’d -her with Kisses; which she returning with pretty -near an equal eagerness, you will not chide me from -you now she cry’d? Those who have Experienc’d -any part of that Transport, <i>D’elmont</i> now was in, -will know it was impossible for him to give her any -other Answer, than repeating his Caresses; Words -were too poor to Express what ’twas he felt, nor had -he time to spare for Speech, employ’d in a far dearer,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span> -softer Oratory, than all the force of Language cou’d -come up to!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span>, when at last, to gaze upon her with more -freedom, he releas’d her from that strict Embrace he -had held her in, and she blushing, with down cast -Eyes, began to reflect on the Effects of her unbounded -passion, a sudden pang seiz’d on his Soul, and trembling, -and convuls’d between extremity of <i>Joy</i>, and -extremity of <i>Anguish</i>, I find thee <i>Melliora</i>, cry’d he; -but Oh, my Angel! Where is it thou art found?---in -the House of the young Amorous <i>Marquess D’Sanguillier!</i> -Cease, cease, interrupted she, your causeless Fears,----where -ever I am found, I am,----I can be only -yours.----And if you will return to Bed, I will Inform -you, not only what Accident brought me hither, -but also every particular of my Behaviour since -I came.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">These</span> Words first put the Count in mind of the -Indecency his Transport had made him Guilty of, in -being seen in that manner, and was going hastily to -throw on his Night Gown, when <i>Melliora</i> perceiving -his Intent, and fearing he wou’d take cold, told him -she wou’d not stay a Moment, unless he granted her -Request of returning to his Bed, which he, after having -made her sit down on the Side of it, at last consented -to: And contenting himself with taking one -of her Hands, and pressing it between his, close Prisoner -in his Bosom, gave her Liberty to begin in this -Manner, the Discovery she had Promis’d.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the sad Accident of <i>Alovysa</i>’s Death, said she, -at my return to the Monastry I found a new <i>Pensioner</i> -there; it was the young <i>Madamoselle Charlotta D’Mezray</i>, -who being lately left an Orphan, was entrusted -to the Care of our <i>Abbess</i>, being her near Relation -’till her time of Mourning was expir’d, and she shou’d -be married to this Marquess <i>D’Sanguillier</i>, at whose -House we are; they were Contracted by their Parents -in their Infancy, and nothing but the sudden Death of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span> -her Mother, had put a stop to the Consummation -of what, <i>then</i>, they both wish’d with equal Ardour: -But alas! Heaven which decreed the little Beauty I am -Mistress of, shou’d be pernicious to my own repose, -ordain’d it so, that this unfaithful Lover, seeing me -one Day at the <i>Grate</i> with <i>Charlotta</i>, shou’d fancy he -found something in <i>Me</i> more worthy of creating a -Passion, than he had in her, and began to wish himself -releas’d from his Engagement with her, that he -might have Liberty to enter into another, which he -imagin’d wou’d be more pleasing: Neither she, nor -I had the least suspicion of his Sentiments, and we -having commenc’d a very great Friendship, she wou’d -for the most part, desire me to partake in the Visits -he made her: He still continu’d to make the same -protestations of Affection to her as ever; but if on -any occasion, she but turn’d her Head, or cast her -Eyes another way, he wou’d give me such looks, as, -tho’ I then but little regarded, I have since understood -the meaning of, but too well; in this manner he proceeded -for some Weeks, ’till at last he came one Day -extreamly out of Humour, and told <i>Charlotta</i> the -occasion of it was, that he had heard she gave Encouragement -to some other Lover; she, amaz’d, as well -she might, Avow’d her Innocence, and endeavour’d -to Undeceive him, but he, who resolv’d not to be convinc’d, -at least not to seem as if he was, pretended to -be more enrag’d at what he call’d weak Excuses; said, -he was satisfy’d she was more Guilty, even than he -wou’d speak,----that he knew not if it were consistent -with his Honour, ever to see her more.---And -in short, behav’d himself in so unaccountable a manner, -that there was no room to Doubt that he was -either the most <i>Impos’d</i> on, or most <i>Base</i> of Men: -It wou’d be endless for me to endeavour to represent -poor <i>Charlotta</i>’s affliction. So I shall only say, it was -answerable to the Tenderness she had for him, which, -cou’d by nothing be exceeded, but by that, continu’d -she Sighing, and looking Languishingly on him, which -contrary to all the Resolutions I had made, brings <i>me</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span> -to seek the Arms of my Enchanting <i>D’elmont</i>, to -rouze Remembrance of his former Passion! To strengthen -my Idea in his Heart! And Influence him a new -with Love and Softness! This kind Digression made -the Count give Truce to his <i>Curiosity</i>, that he might -Indulge the Raptures of his <i>Love</i>, and raising himself -in Bed, and pressing her slender fine proportioned -Body close to his, wou’d permit her no otherwise, -than in this Posture to continue her Discourse.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Several</span> Days resum’d <i>Melliora</i>, were past, and -we heard nothing of the Marquess, all which, as he -has since told me, were spent in fruitless Projections -to steal me from the Monastry; but at last, by the -means of a <i>Lay Sister</i>, he found means to convey a -Letter to me; the Contents of it, as near as I can -remember, were these.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/break3.jpg" width="500" height="35" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger"><i>To the Divine</i> <span class="smcap">Melliora</span>.</p> - -<p><i><span class="smcap">’Tis</span> not the falshood of <span class="antiqua">Charlotta</span>, but the Charms -of <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span> have produc’d this Change in my -Behaviour, do not therefore, at the reading this, -affect a surprize at Effects, which I am sure cannot -be uncommon to such Excellence! Nor accuse -an Inconstancy, which I rather esteem a Virtue than a -Vice: To Change from you indeed wou’d be the highest -Sin, as well as Stupidity: but to Change for you, is -what all must, and ought to do, who boast a Capacity -of distinguishing. I love you, Oh Divinest <span class="antiqua">Melliora</span>, -I burn, I languish for you in unceasing Torments, and you -wou’d find it impossible for you to condemn the boldness<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span> -of this Declaration, if you cou’d be sensible of the -Racks which force me to it, and which must shortly -End me, if not happy enough to be receiv’d</i></p> - -<p class="center">Your Lover,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">D’Sanguillier</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">’Tis</span> impossible for me to express the Grief, and -Vexation this Letter gave me, but I forbore showing -it to <i>Charlotta</i>, knowing how much it would encrease -her Anguish, and resolv’d when next I saw him, -as I made no doubt but I should quickly do, to use -him in such a fashion, as in spite of his Vanity, shou’d -make him know I was not to be won in such a manner; -for I confess, my dear <i>D’elmont</i>, that his Timerity -gave no less a shock to my <i>Pride</i>, than his Infidelity to -her I really lov’d, did to my <i>Friendship</i>. The next Day -I was told, a Gentleman enquir’d for me, I presently -imagin’d it was he, and went to the Grate, with a -Heart full of Indignation; I was not deceiv’d in my -Conjecture, it was indeed the Marquess, who appear’d -on the other side, but with so much Humility in his -Eyes, and awful fear, for what he saw in Mine, -as half disarm’d my Anger for what concern’d my -self, and had his Passion not proceeded from his Inconstancy, -I might have been drawn to <i>pity</i> what was -not in my Power to Reward; but his base Usage of -a Woman so deserving as <i>Charlotta</i>, made me -Express my self in Terms full of Disdain and Detestation, -and without allowing him to Reply, or make -any Excuses, pluck’d the Letter he had sent me out -of my Pocket, with a design to return it him, just -at that Moment when a <i>Nun</i> came hastily to call -me from the Grate: Some body had over-heard the -beginning of what I said, and had told the <i>Abbess</i>, -who, tho’ she was not displeas’d at what she heard of -my Behaviour to him, yet she thought it improper -for me to hold any Discourse with a Man, who declar’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span> -himself my Lover: I did not, however, let her know -who the Person was, fearing it might come to <i>Charlotta</i>’s -Ears, and encrease an Affliction, which was -already too violent: I was vext to miss the Opportunity -of giving back his Letter, but kept it still about -me, not in the least Questioning, but that boldness -which had encourag’d him to make a discovery of -his Desires, wou’d again lead him to the Prosecution -of them in the same manner, but I was deceiv’d, -his Passion prompted him to take other, as he believ’d, -more effectual Measures: One Day, at least a Fortnight -after I had seen the <i>Marquess</i>, as I was walking in -the Garden with <i>Charlotta</i>, and another young <i>Pensioner</i>, -a Fellow who was imploy’d in taking away -Rubbish, told us there were some Statues carry’d by -the Gate, which open’d into the Fields, which were -the greatest Master-pieces of Art that had ever been -seen: They are going, said he, to be plac’d in the <i>Seiur -Valiers</i> Garden, if you step but out, you may get a -Sight of them: We, who little suspected any Deceit, -run without Consideration, to satisfie our Curiosity, -but instead of the Statues we expected to see, four -Living Men disguis’d, muffl’d, and well Mounted, came -Galloping up to us, and, as it were surrounded us, before -we had Time to get back to the Gate we came -out at: Three of them alighting, seiz’d me and my -Companions, and I, who was the destin’d Prey, was -in a Moment thrown into the Arms of him who was -on Horseback, and who no sooner receiv’d me, than -as if we had been mounted on a <i>Pegasus</i>, we seem’d -rather to <i>fly</i> than <i>Ride</i>; in vain I struggl’d, shriek’d, -and cry’d to Heaven for help, my Prayers were lost -in Air, as quickly was my Speech, surprize, and rage, -and dread, o’rewhelm’d my sinking Spirits, and unable -to sustain the Rapidity of such violent Emotions, -I fell into a Swoon, from which I recover’d not, -till was at the Door of some House, but where I -yet am ignorant; the first thing I saw, when I open’d -my Eyes, was one of those Men who had been Assistant -in my carrying away, and was now about to lift<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span> -me from the Horse: I had not yet the power to Speak, -but when I had, I vented all the Passions of my Soul -in terms full of Distraction and Despair: By what -means the People of the House were gain’d to my -Ravishers Interest, I know not, but they took little -Notice of the Complaints I made, or my Implorations -for Succour: I had now, not the least shadow of -a Hope, that any thing but Death cou’d save me from -Dishonour, and having vainly Rag’d, I at last sate down -meditating by what means I shou’d Compass that -only Relief from the worse Ruin which seem’d to -threaten me: While my Thoughts were thus employ’d, -he who appear’d the chief of that insolent -Company, making a Sign that the rest shou’d withdraw, -fell on his Knees before me, and plucking off his -Vizard, discover’d to me the Face of the Marquess -<i>D’Sanguillier</i>. Heavens! How did this Sight inflame -me? Mild as I am, by Nature, I that Moment was -all Fury!----Till now I had not the least Apprehension -who he was, and believ’d ’twas rather my <i>Fortune</i> -than my <i>Person</i>, which had prompted some daring -Wretch to take this Method to obtain it; but now, -my Woes appear’d, if possible, with greater Horror, -and his Quality and Engagement with <i>Charlotta</i> made -the Act seem yet more Base. I blame you not, said -he, Oh Divinest <i>Melliora!</i> The Presumption I am guilty -of, is of so high a Nature, as justly may deserve -your utmost Rigour!-----I know, and confess my -Crime; Nay, hate my self for thus offending you.--But -Oh? ’Tis unavoidable.---be then, like Heaven, who when -Injured most, takes most delight to pardon: Crimes unrepented, -answer’d I, can have no plea for Mercy, still -to persist, and still to ask forgiveness, is <i>Mocking</i> of the -Power we seem to <i>Implore</i>, and but encreases Sin.----Release -me from this Captivity, which you have betray’d -me into, Restore me to the Monastry----And -for the <i>future</i>, cease to shock my Ears with Tales of -violated Faith, detested Passion! Then, I perhaps, <i>may</i> -pardon what is <i>past</i>. His reply to all this was very little -to the Purpose, only I perceiv’d he was so far from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span> -complying with my Request, or repenting what he -had done, that he resolv’d to proceed yet further, and -one of his Associates coming in, to tell him that his -Chariot, which it seems he had order’d to meet him -there, was ready, he offer’d to take me by the Hand -to lead me to it, which I refusing, with an Air which -testify’d the Indignation of my Soul, Madam, said he, -you are not here less in my Power, than you will be -in a Place, where I can Accommodate you in a manner -more suitable to your Quality, and the Adoration -I have for you: If I were capable of a base Design on -you, what hinders but I now might perpetrate it? -But be assur’d, your Beauties are not of that kind, -which inspire Sentiments dishonourable; nor shall you -ever find any other Treatment from me, than what -might become the humblest of your Slaves; my Love, -fierce as it is, shall know it’s Limits, and never dare to -Breath an Accent less Chast than your own Virgin -Dreams, and Innocent as your Desires.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tho’</span> the boldness he had been guilty of, and still -persisted in, made me give but little Credit to the latter -part of his Speech, yet the Beginning of it awak’d -my Consideration to a reflection, that I cou’d not indeed -be any where in a greater danger of the Violence -I fear’d, than where I was; but on the contrary, it -might so happen, that in leaving that Place, I might -possibly meet some Persons who might know me, -or at least be carry’d somewhere, whence I might with -more likelihood, make my Escape: In this last Hope, -I went into the Chariot, and indeed, to do him justice, -neither in our Journey, nor since I came into his -House, has he ever violated the Promise he made -me; nothing can be with more Humility than his -Addresses to me, never Visiting me without first having -obtain’d my leave! But to return to the particulars -of my Story, I had not been here many Days, -before a Servant-Maid of the House, being in my -Chamber doing something about me, ask’d me if it -were possible I cou’d forget her; the Question<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span> -surpriz’d me, but I was much more so, when looking -earnestly in her Face, which I had never done before, -I perfectly distinguish’d the Features of <i>Charlotta</i>: -Oh Heavens! cry’d I, <i>Charlotta</i>! The very -same, said she, but I dare not stay now to unfold the -Mistery, lest any of the Family take Notice; at Night -when I undress you, you shall know the History of -my Transformation.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Never</span> any Day seem’d so long to me as that, -and I feign’d my self indispos’d, and rung my Bell for -some body to come up, several Hours before the time -I us’d to go to Bed, <i>Charlotta</i> guessing my impatience, -took care to be in the way, and as soon as she was -with me, not staying for my Requesting it of her, -begun the Information she had promis’d, in this manner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">You</span> see, said she, forcing her self to put on a -half smile, your unhappy Rival follows to interrupt -the Triumph of your Conquest; but I protest to you, -that if I thought you esteem’d my perjur’d Lover’s -Heart an offering worthy your Acceptance, I never -wou’d have disturb’d your happiness, and ’tis as much -the Hopes of being able to be Instrumental in serving -you in your Releasment, as the prevention of that -Blessing the injurious <i>D’Sanguillier</i> aims at, which has -brought me here: Of all the Persons that bewail’d -your being carry’d away, I was the only one who -had any Guess at the Ravisher, nor had I been so wise, -but that the very Day on which it happen’d, you -drop’d a Letter, which I took up, and knowing it the -<i>Marquess</i>’s Hand, made no scruple of Reading it. I -had no opportunity to upbraid you for the concealment -of his falshood, but the manner of your being seiz’d, -convinc’d me you were Innocent of favouring his -Passion, and his Vizard flipping a little on one Side, -as he took you in his Arms, discover’d enough of that -Face, I have so much ador’d, for me to know who it -was, that had took this Method to gain you: I will<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span> -not continu’d she, weeping, trouble you with any -Recital of what I endur’d from the Knowledge of my -Misfortune, but you may judge it by my Love, however, -I bore up against the Oppressive weight, and -resolv’d to struggle with my Fate, even to the Last; -I made an Excuse for leaving the Monastry the next -Day, without giving any suspicion of the Cause, or -letting any body into the Secret of the Marquess, and -Disguis’d as you see, found means to be receiv’d by -the House-keeper, as a Servant, I came here in three -Days after you, and have had the opportunity of being -confirm’d by your Behaviour, of what I before -believ’d, that you were far from being an Assistant in -his Design.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Here</span> the sorrowful <i>Charlotta</i> finish’d her little -Account, and I testify’d the Joy I felt in seeing her, -by a thousand Embraces, and all the Protestations of -Eternal Friendship to her, that I could make: All the -times we had any opportunity of Talking to each -other, were spent in forming Schemes for my Escape, -but none of them appear’d feasible; however -the very Contrivance was a kind of Pleasure to me, -for tho’ I began to banish all my Fears of the Marquess’s -offering any violence to my Virtue, yet I found -his Passion wou’d not permit him to suffer my Departure, -and I was almost Distracted when I had no -Hopes of being in a Capacity of hearing from you, -or writing to you: In this fashion, my dearest <i>D’elmont</i> -have I liv’d, sometimes flattering my self with -vain Projects, sometimes desponding of being ever -free: But last Night, <i>Charlotta</i> coming up, according -to her Custom, told me in a kind of Rapture, that -you, and my Brother were in the House, she, it seems -knew you at <i>Paris</i> while her Mother was yet Living, -and to make her entirely easy as to the Marquess, I -had now made her the Confidant of my Sentiments -concerning you: I need not tell you the Extacy this -News gave me, you are too well acquainted with my -Heart, not to be able to conceive it more justly than<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span> -Language can Express; but I cannot forbear Informing -you of one thing, of which you are ignorant, -tho’ had Prudence any share in this Love-directed Soul, -I shou’d conceal it: My impatience to behold you, -was almost equal to my Joy to think you were so -near, and transported with my eager wishes, by <i>Charlotta</i>’s -Assistance, I last Night found the way into -your Chamber: I saw you, Oh <i>D’elmont</i>! My longing -Eyes enjoy’d the satisfaction they so much desir’d, -but yours were clos’d, the Fatigue of your Journey -had laid you fast a Sleep, so fast, that even Fancy was -unactive, and no kind Dream, alarm’d you with one -Thought of <i>Melliora</i>!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">She</span> cou’d not pronounce these last Words very -Intelligibly, the greedy Count devour’d ’em as she -spoke, and tho’ Kisses had made many a Parenthesis in -her Discourse, yet he restrain’d himself as much as -possible, for the Pleasure of hearing her; but perceiving -she was come to a Period, he gave a loose to all -the furious Transports of his ungovern’d Passion: A -while their Lips were Cemented! Rivetted together -with Kisses, such Kisses! As Collecting every Sence in -one, exhale the very Soul, and mingle Spirits! Breathless -with bliss, then wou’d they pause and gaze, then -joyn again, with Ardour still encreasing, and Looks, -and Sighs, and straining Grasps were all the Eloquence -that either cou’d make use of: Fain wou’d he now -have obtain’d the aim of all his Wishes, strongly he -press’d, and faintly she repuls’d: Dissolv’d in Love, -and melting in his Arms, at last she found no Words -to form Denials, while he, all fire, improv’d the -lucky Moment, a thousand Liberties he took.----A -thousand Joys he reap’d, and had infallibly been possest -of all, if <i>Charlotta</i>, who seeing it broad Day, had -not wonder’d at <i>Melliora</i>’s stay, and come and knock’d -at the Chamber Door, which not being fasten’d, gave -way to her Entrance, but she made not such hast, -but that they had time enough to Disengage themselves -from that close Embrace they had held each<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span> -other in: Heavens! <i>Melliora</i>, cry’d the careful Interrupter, -what mean you by this stay, which may be -so prejudicial to our Designs; the Marquess is already -stirring, and if he shou’d come into this Room, or -send to yours, what might be the Consequence: I -come, I come, said <i>Melliora</i>, alarm’d at what she heard, -and rising from the Bed-side: Oh, you will not, said -the Count in a Whisper, and tenderly pressing her -Hand, you must not leave me thus! A few Hours -hence, answer’d she aloud, I hope to have the Power to -own my self all yours, nor can the Scheme we have -laid fail of the Effects we wish, if no Discovery happens -to Postpone it: She was going with <i>Charlotta</i> -out of the Chamber, with these Words, but remembring -her self, she turn’d hastily back, let not my Brother, -Resum’d she, know my Weakness, and when -you see me next, feign a surprize equal to his own.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is not to be suppos’d that after she was gone, -<i>D’elmont</i>, tho’ kept awake all Night, cou’d suffer any -Sleep to enter his Eyes; excess of Joy of all the Passions, -hurries the Spirits most, and keeps ’em longest -busied: <i>Anger</i> or <i>Grief</i>, rage violently at first, but -quickly flag, and sink at last into a Lethargy, but -<i>Pleasure</i> warms, exhillerates the Soul, and every -rapturous Thought infuses new Desires, new Life, -and added Vigour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Marquess <i>D’Sanguillier</i> was no less happy -in imagination than the Count, and it was the force -of that Passion which had rouz’d him so early that -Morning, and made him wait impatiently for his -Guests coming out of their Chambers, for he wou’d -not disturb them: As soon as they were all come into -the Drawing-Room, I know not Messiures, said he, -with a Voice and Eyes wholly chang’d from those -he wore the Day before, whether you have ever Experienc’d -the force of Love to that Degree that I -have, but I dare believe you have Generosity enough -to rejoyce in the good Fortune I am going to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span> -possess’d of; and when I shall inform you how I have -long languish’d in a Passion, perhaps, the most extravagant -that ever was, you will confess the Justice of that -God, who soon or late, seldom suffers his faithful -Votaries to miss their Reward: The Count cou’d -not force himself to a Reply to these Words, but -<i>Frankville</i> and <i>Camilla</i>, who were entirely Ignorant -of the Cause of them, heartily Congratulated him. I -am Confident, resum’d the Marquess, that Despair has -no Existance but in weak and timerous Minds, all -Women may be won by Force or Stratagem, and -tho’ I had, almost, invincible Difficulties to struggle -with, Patience, Constancy, and a bold and artful -Management has at length surmounted them: Hopeless -by Distant Courtship to obtain the <i>Heart</i> of my -Adorable, I found means to make my self Master of -her <i>Person</i>, and by making no other use of the Power -I had over her, than humbly Sighing at her Feet, convinc’d -her my Designs were far from being Dishonourable; -and last Night, looking on me, with more -kindness than she had ever done before: My Lord, -said she, your Usage of me has been too Noble, not -to vanquish what ever Sentiments I may have been -possest with to your Prejudice, therefore since you -have Company in the House, who may be Witness -of what I do, I think I cannot chuse a fitter time, -than this, to bestow my self, before them, on him -who most Deserves me: I will not now, continu’d -he, delay the Confirmation of my Happiness so long, -as to go about to describe the Extacy I felt, for this -so wish’d, and so unhop’d a Condescension, but when, -hereafter, you shall be told the whole History of my -Passion, you will be better able to conceive it; the -Marquess had scarce done speaking, when his Chaplain -came into the Room, saying, he believ’d it was -the Hour his Lordship order’d him to attend; it is! -it is, cry’d the transported Marquess. Now my worthy -Guests you shall behold the lovely Author of my -Joys; with these Words he left them, but immediately -return’d, leading the intended Bride: Monsieur<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span> -<i>Frankville</i>, tho’ he had not seen his Sister in some Years, -knew her at the first Glimpse, and the Surprize of -meeting her----Meeting her in so unexpected a manner -was so great, that his Thoughts were quite confounded -with it, and he cou’d no otherwise Express -it, than by throwing his Eyes wildly, sometimes on -her, sometimes on the Count, and sometimes on the -Marquess; the Count tho’ appris’d of this, felt a Consternation -for the Consequence little inferior to his, and -both being kept silent by their different Agitations, -and the Marquess, by the sudden Change, which he -perceiv’d in their Countenances, <i>Melliora</i> had liberty -to explain her self in this manner. I have kept my -Word, my Lord, said she to the Marquess, this Day -shall give me to him who best deserves me; but who -that is, my Brother and Count <i>D’elmont</i> must determine, -since Heaven has restor’d them to me, all Power -of disposing of my self must cease; ’tis they must, -henceforth, rule the will of <i>Melliora</i>, and only their -consent can make me yours; all Endeavours wou’d be -vain to represent the Marquess’s confusion at this sudden -Turn, and ’tis hard to say whether his Astonishment, -or Vexation was greatest; her Brother he wou’d -little have regarded, not doubting but his Quality, -and the Riches he was possest of, wou’d easily have -gain’d his Compliance; but Count <i>D’elmont</i>, tho’ he -knew him not (having, for some disgust he receiv’d -at Court, been many Years absent from <i>Paris</i>,) yet he -had heard much talk of him; and the Passion he had -for <i>Melliora</i>, by the Adventure of <i>Alovysa</i>’s Death, -had made too great a Noise in the World not to have -reach’d his Ears; he stood Speechless for some time, -but when he had a little recover’d himself, have you -then Deceiv’d me, Madam, Said he? No, answer’d she, -I am still ready to perform my promise, whenever these -Gentlemen shall command me.----The one my Brother, -the other my Guardian, obtain but their Consent, -and----Mine, he can never have, Interrupted <i>Frankville</i> -hastily, and laying his Hand on his Sword. Nor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span> -mine, cry’d the Count, while I have Breath to form -Denials, or my Arm strength to Guard my Beauteous -Charge; hold Brother,----Hold, my Lord, said <i>Melliora</i>, -fearing their Fury wou’d produce some fatal Effects, -the <i>Marquess</i> has been so truly Noble, that you -rather ought to Thank, than resent his Treatment of -me, and tho’ I see Rage in <i>your</i> Eyes, and all the -Stings of disappointment glowing fierce in <i>his</i>, yet I -have Hopes, a general Content may Crown the End.----Appear! -Continu’d she, raising her Voice, appear! -Thou lovely faithful Maid! Come forth and Charm -thy roving Lovers Heart again to Constancy, to Peace, -and thee! She had no sooner spoke, then <i>Charlotta</i> entred, -drest like a Bride indeed, in a Suit of Cloaths, -which she had brought with her, in case any happy -Opportunity shou’d arise for her to discover herself: -If the <i>Marquess</i> was before confounded, how much -more so was he now? That injur’d Ladies Presence, -just at this juncture, and the Surprize by what means -she came there, made him utterly unable to resolve on -any thing, which she observing, and taking advantage -of his Confusion, run to him, and catching hold of -his Hand; wonder not my Lord, said she, to see <i>Charlotta</i> -here, nothing is impossible to Love like mine, -tho’ slighted and abandon’d by you, still I pursue your -Steps with Truth, with Tenderness, and Constancy -untir’d!---Then, perceiving he still was silent, come, -my Lord, continu’d she, you must at last take Pity on -my Sufferings, my Rival, Charming as she is, wants -a just sensibility of your Deserts, and is by that, less -worthy even than I; Oh, then remember, if not to -me, what ’tis you owe your self your own exhalted -Merits, and you will soon determine in my Favour, -and confess that she, who knows you best, ought most -to have you; she spoke these Words in so moving an -Accent, and they were accompany’d with so many -Tears, that the most rocky Heart must have relented, -and that the Marquess was sensibly touch’d with ’em, -his Countenance Testify’d, when sighing, and turning -his Head a little away, not with disdain, but Remorse,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span> -for the Infidelity he had been guilty of: Oh, -cease, said he, this Flood of Softness, it gives me Pains -I never felt before, for ’tis impossible you can forgive---Oh -Heaven! cry’d the transported <i>Charlotta</i>, -all you have done, or ever can do of Unkindness, -is by one tender Word made full amends for; see at -your Feet, (continued she, falling on her Knees) thus -in this humble Posture, which best becomes my prostrate -Soul, I beg you to accept the Pardon which I -bring, to banish from your Mind all Thoughts that -you have injured me, and leave it free from all the -generous Joys, the making others happy, must create: -This Action of <i>Charlotta</i>’s, join’d to the Reflection, -how strangely every Thing happen’d to prevent -his Designs on the other, won him entirely, and -raising her with a tender Embrace, put it out of her -Power to regret his ever being False, since his Return -gave her a Taste of Joys, which are not, but -in Reconciliation to be found.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Count, Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>, and the two -Ladies who had waited all this while in an impatient -Expectation for the end of this Affair, now paid their -several Congratulations, all highly applauding the Constancy -of <i>Charlotta</i>, and the timely Repentance of -the Marquess: These Ceremonies being over, the Marquess -desir’d <i>Charlotta</i> to acquaint him by what means -she had gain’d Admittance to his House unknown -to him; which Curiosity she immediately satisfying, -engag’d a new, the Praises of the whole Company, -and more endear’d herself to her belov’d Marquess’s -Affections.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tranquility</span> now reign’d in those Hearts, -which lately heav’d with various and disturb’d Emotions, -and Joy sate smiling upon every Cheek, entirely -happy in their several Wishes: They could now -talk of past Woes with Pleasure, and began to enter -into a very delightful Conversation, when <i>Frankville</i> -on a sudden missing <i>Camilla</i>, and asking for her, one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span> -of the Servants told him she was gone to the Sick Page’s -Chamber, this News gave him some little alarm, and -the rather, because he had observ’d she expressed a more -than ordinary Tenderness and Care for this Page, all -the Time of their Journey; he ran immediately to -the Room where he heard she was, and found her -lying on the Bed, with her Arms round <i>Fidelio</i>’s -Neck, and her Face close to his; this shocking Sight -had certainly driven the Rashness of his Temper to -commit some Deed of Horror, if the Amazement -he was in had not prevented it; he drew his Sword -half out, but then, as if some Spell had charm’d his -Arm, remain’d in that Posture, fix’d and motionless -as Marble: <i>Camilla</i> half blinded with the Tears which -fell from her Eyes, saw not the Confusion he was in, -nor considered the seeming Reason he had to be so, -but raising her Head a little to see who it was that -came into the Chamber, Oh <i>Frankville</i>! said she, see -here the Ruins of Love, behold the Tyranny of that -fatal Passion in this expiring Fair! But haste, contin’d -she, finding him ready to faint, let Count <i>D’elmont</i> -know, the faithful, generous <i>Violetta</i>! Dies---she -dies for him, and asks no other Recompence, than a -last Farewell--<i>Violetta</i>! interrupted <i>Frankville</i>, what -means <i>Camilla</i>? This, this is <i>Violetta</i>, resum’d she, -who like a Page disguis’d, has followed the too lovely -Count, and lost herself: The Rage which at his first -Entrance had possest the Heart of <i>Frankville</i>, now -gave Way to Grief, and coming near the Bed, he began -to testify it, by all the Marks which an unfeign’d -Concern cou’d give; but this unfortunate Languisher, -finding her Strength decay, prevented him from -making any long Speeches, by renewing that Request -which <i>Camilla</i> had already made known, of -seeing her dear Lord before she dy’d, which <i>Frankville</i> -making haste to fulfil, she call’d to him as loud -as her Weakness would permit to come back, and as -soon as he was, <i>Camilla</i>, said she, has inform’d me -of my Lord’s good Fortune in meeting with the -Charmer of his Soul, I would not deprive him of a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span> -Moments Happiness. I therefore beg she’d give a -dying Rival, leave to wish her Joy, and as neither -my Death, nor the Cause of it can be a Secret to -any of the Company here, I desire they all may be -Witnesses, with what Pleasure I welcome it; <i>Frankville</i>, -Fiery as he was, had a vast deal of Compassion -in his Nature, and could not see so beautiful a young -Lady, and one whom he had so many Obligations -to, on the Account of his Affair with <i>Camilla</i>, in -this despairing and dying Condition, without being -seiz’d with an Anguish inexpressible; but all the Pangs -he felt were nothing when compar’d to those he gave -<i>D’elmont</i> in the Delivery of her Message; he ran into -the Room like a Man distracted, and in the Hurry -of his Grief forgot even the Complaisance he ow’d -to <i>Melliora</i>, but she was too generous to disapprove -his Concern, immediately followed with her Brother, -the Marquess and <i>Charlotta</i>: What is it that I hear -Madam, cry’d the Count, throwing himself on the -Bed by her? Can it be possible that the admir’d <i>Violetta</i> -cou’d forsake her Father,---Country,---Friends,---forego -her Sexes Pride,---the Pomp of Beauty,---gay -Dresses, and all the Equipage of State and -Grandeur; to follow in a mean Disguise, a Man unworthy -her Thoughts? Oh! no more, said she, weeping, -you are but too, too worthy Adoration; nor do -I yet believe my Love a Crime, tho’ the Consequence -is so: I might in <i>Rome</i>, with Honour and Innocence -have died, but by my shameful Flight, I was the -Murderer of my Father---that---that’s a Guilt, -which all these Floods of Penitence can never wash -away---Yet, bear me Witness Heaven, how little -I suspected the sad Event, when first, unable to support -your Absence, I contriv’d this Way, unknown, -to keep for ever in your Sight; I lov’d, ’tis true, but -if one unchaste Wish, or an impure Desire e’er -stain’d my Soul, then may the purging Fire to which -I am going, miss its Effect, my Spots remain, and -not one Saint vouchsafe to own me: Here the Force -of her Passion, agitating her Spirits with too much<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span> -Violence for the Weakness of her Body, she sunk -fainting in the Bed: And tho’ the Count and <i>Camilla</i> -felt the most deeply her Afflictions, the one because -they proceeded from her Love to him, and -the other as having long been her Friend, and Partner -of her Secrets, yet those in the Company who -were most Strangers to her, participated in her Sufferings, -and commiserated the Woes they could not -heal; and as soon as she recovered from her Swoon, -the generous <i>Melliora</i> (not in the least possest with -any of those little Jealousies, which Women of narrow -Souls harbour on such Occasions) came nearer to -the Bed, and taking her kindly by the Hand, Live -and be comforted, said she, a Love so innocent shall -never give me any Disquiet.---Live and Enjoy the -Friendship of my Lord, and if you please to favour -me with yours, I shall esteem it as it deserves, a Blessing. -No Madam, answered the now almost Expiring -<i>Violetta</i>, Life, after this shameful Declaration, -wou’d be the worst of Punishments, but, not to be -Ungrateful to so generous an Offer, for a few Moments -I accept it, and like Children, placing their -darling Play things on their Pillow, and then contented -to go to Sleep, so I would keep your Lord, -would view him still while I awake to Life, then -drop insensibly into a Slumber of eternal Peace. This -mournful Tenderness pierc’d <i>D’elmont</i>, to the very -Soul, and putting his Arm gently under her Head, -which, he perceiv’d she was too weak to raise when -she endeavoured it, and laying his Face on one of her -Hands, cou’d not forbear washing it in Tears, she -felt the cordial Drops, and, as if they gave her a new -Vigour, exerting her Voice to the utmost of her -Strength; this is too kind, said she, I now can feel -none of those Agonies which render Death the King -of Terrors, and thus, thus happy in your Sight,------your -Touch------your tender Pity, I can but be -Translated from one Heaven to another, and yet, -forgive me Heaven, if it be a Sin, I cou’d wish, -methinks, to know no other Paradise than you, to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span> -be permitted to hover round you, to Form your -Dreams, to sit upon your Lips all Day, to mingle -with your Breath, and glide in unfelt Air into your -Bosom: She wou’d have proceeded, but her Voice -faultered in the Accent, and all she spoke distinguishable -was, Oh <i>D’elmont</i>! receive in this one Sigh, my -latest Breath-----it was indeed her last, she died that -Moment, died in his Arms, whom more than Life -she priz’d, and sure there are none who have liv’d -in the Anxieties of Love, who wou’d not envy such -a Death!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was not in this noble Company, one -whose Eyes were dry, but Count <i>D’elmont</i> was for -some Time inconsolable, even by <i>Melliora</i>; he forbore -the celebrating of his so eagerly desired Nuptials, as -did the Marquess and Monsieur <i>Frankville</i> theirs, in -Complaisance to him, ’till after <i>Violetta</i> was interr’d, -which the Count took Care should be in a Manner -becoming her Quality, her Merit, and the Esteem -he profess’d to have born her: But when this melancholly -Scene was past, a Day of Joy succeeded, and -one happy Hour confirm’d the Wishes of the three -longing Bridegrooms; the Weddings were all kept -in a splendid Manner at the Marquess’s, and it was not -with out a great deal of Reluctance, that he and <i>Charlotta</i> -suffered the Count, Monsieur <i>Frankville</i>, and -their Ladies to take leave of them. When they came -to <i>Paris</i>, they were joyfully received by the Chevalier -<i>Brillian</i> and <i>Ansellina</i>, and those, who in the -Count’s Absence had taken a Liberty of censuring and -condemning his Actions, aw’d by his Presence, and -in Time, won by his Virtues, now swell his Praises -with an equal Vehemence: Both he and <i>Frankville</i> -are still living, blest with a numerous and hopeful Issue, -and continue with their fair Wives, great and lovely -Examples of conjugal Affection.</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><i>FINIS.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/header-catalogue.jpg" width="700" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOKS Printed for, and Sold -by <span class="smcap">D. Browne</span>, without -<i>Temple-Bar</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p>1. A Collection of Poems on various Subjects. -By Sir <i>Richard Blackmore</i>, Kt. -M. D. Fellow of the Royal Colledge of Physicians.</p> - -<p>2. The Art of <i>English</i> Poetry. Containing, -1st, Rules for making Verses. 2d, A Collection -of the most natural, agreeable, and -sublime Thoughts, <i>viz.</i> Allusions, Similies, -Descriptions and Characters of Poems and -Things that are to be found in the best <i>English</i> -Poets. 3d, A Dictionary of Rhymes. By -<i>Edward Byshe</i>, Gent. The 6th Edition Corrected -and Enlarged, in 2 Vol. 120.</p> - -<p>3. A Collection of Poems, <i>viz.</i> The Temple -of Death, by the Marquis of <i>Normandy</i>, -an Epistle to the Earl of <i>Dorset</i>: By <i>Charles -Mountague</i>, Lord <i>Halifax</i>; the Duel of the -Stags by Sir <i>Robert Howard</i>. With several Original -Poems never before Printed; By the -Earl of <i>Roscommon</i>, the Earl of <i>Rochester</i>, the -Earl of <i>Orrery</i>, the Lord <i>Lansdowne</i>, Sir <i>Charles -Lesley</i>, Sir <i>George Etheredge</i>, Mr. <i>Stepney</i>, Mr. -<i>Dryden</i>, &c.</p> - -<p>4. The Dramatick and Poetical Works of -<i>Nicholas Rowe</i>, Esq; late Poet Laureat; Containing -all his Plays and Poems, in three neat -Pocket Volumes, with Cutts.</p> - -<p>5. The Works of Mr. <i>John Oldham</i>, together -with his Remains, in 2 Vol. in 120. To -this Edition are added, Memoirs of his Life -and explanatory Notes upon some obscure -Passages of his Writings, adorn’d with Cutts. -Price 6 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>6. The Poetical Works of <i>Samiel Daniel</i>, -Author of the <i>English</i> History. To which -is prefix’d Memoirs of his Life and Writing, -in 2 Vol. 120.</p> - -<p>7. Poems by the Earl of <i>Roscommon</i>, to -which is added an Essay on Poetry by the -Earl of <i>Mulgrave</i>, now Duke of <i>Buckingham</i>, -together with Poems. By Mr. <i>Rich. Duke</i>.</p> - -<p>8. Letters of Gallantry. By M. de <i>Fontenelle</i>; -translated into <i>English</i>. By Mr. <i>Ozell</i>.</p> - -<p>9. The Lover and Reader. By Sir <i>Richard -Steele</i>. The Second Edition.</p> - -<h3>BOOKS Printed for <i>W. Chetwood</i>.</h3> - -<p>1. The Voyages, Travels, and dangerous -Adventures of Capt. <i>Richard Falconer</i>. -Containing the Laws, Customs and -Manners of the <i>Indians</i>, in several Parts of -<i>America</i>, his Shipwrecks, his being left on -Shore on the Island of <i>Dominica</i>, where to -save his Life, he was obliged to Marry an -<i>Indian</i> Wife; his narrow Escape from thence -after his Wife was Kill’d; Intermix’d with the -Voyages of <i>Thomas Randal</i>, a West <i>Indian</i> Pilot, -his being cast away in the <i>Baltick</i>, &c., -being the only Man sav’d upon an uninhabited -Island, <i>&c.</i> With a curious Frontispiece -Bound 5 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>2. The Seige of <i>Damascus</i>: A Tragedy. -By the late Mr. <i>Hughes</i>.</p> - -<p>3. Spartan Dame, a Tragedy, by Mr. <i>Southern</i>. -Price 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>4. Ximena, or the Heroick Daughter, -Written by Mr. <i>Cibber</i>, Dedicated to Sir -<i>Richard Steele</i>. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>5. Bond-man, or Love and Liberty, a Tragedy, -1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>6. Earl of <i>Warwick</i>, or the British Exile, -a Tragedy. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>7. Love in a Veil, a Comedy, by Mr. Savage. -1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>8. Traytor, a Tragedy. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>9. Two Harlequins in <i>French</i> and <i>English</i>, -a Comedy. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>10. Fair of St. Germains, a Comedy. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>11. Antiochus and Stratonice, a Novel, -by Mr. <i>Theobald</i>. Bound 2 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>12. <i>Crawford</i>’s Novels Compleat, Bound -2 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>13. Orpheus and Eurydice, by Mr. <i>Weaver</i>. -1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>14. The Chevalier de St. <i>George</i>, a Heroick-comical -Poem. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>15. Cynegetica, or the Force and Pleasure -of Hunting, by Mr. <i>Morgan</i>. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>16. Richard the Third, a Tragedy, by -Mr. <i>Cibber</i>. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>17. Distress’d Mother by Mr. <i>Ambrose Philips</i>. -1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>18. Sir Walter Raleigh by Mr. <i>Sewel</i>. -1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>19. Jane Shore, a Tragedy, by Mr. <i>Rowe</i>. -1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>20, Jane Gray by the same Author. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>21. The Spaniard, or don Zara del Fogo, -a Novel. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>22. Amorous Widow, or the wanton Wife. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>23. The most entertaining History of <i>Hyppolito</i> -and <i>Aminta</i>, being a Collection of delightful -Novels. Price Bound 2 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>24. The Pastoral Amours of Daphnis and -Chloe, with Cutts curiously engrav’d. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>25. <i>Steel</i>’s Christian Heroe. 1 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>26. Amours and Letters of Abelard and -Heloise. 1 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> - -<p>27. <i>Etheridge</i>’s Plays Compleat or Single.</p> - -<p>28. <i>Rowe</i>’s Works Compleat, in 3 Vol. -with Cutts. Bound 10 <i>s.</i></p> - -<p>29. Letters of Love and Gallantry, in 2 -Vol. with Cutts. 5 <i>s.</i></p> - -<h3>BOOKS Printed for <i>S. Chapman</i>.</h3> - -<p>1. Fables and Dialogues of the Dead; Written -in <i>French</i> by the late Archbishop of -<i>Cambray</i>, Author of <i>Telemachus</i>, and done -into <i>English</i> from the <i>Paris</i> Edition of 1718. -Then Corrected and Revised, with the Authors -own Original Manuscript.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">------<i>De Te</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>Fabula Narratur</i>.-----</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>2. <i>Roma Illustrata</i>, or a Description of the -most beautiful pieces of Painting, Sculpture -and Architecture, Antique and Modern, at -and near <i>Rome</i>.</p> - -<p>3. The fair <i>Circassian</i>, a Dramatick Performance; -Done from the Original by a Gentleman -Commoner of <i>Oxford</i>,---<i>Sine me, liber, -ibis in urbem</i>. Ovid. The Second Edition -corrected: To which are added, the following -Poems by the same Author.</p> - -<p>The <i>Midsummer</i> Wish. <i>Sylvia</i> to <i>Sylvia</i>. -Heathen Priestcraft. The naked Truth. On -<i>Florida</i>, seen while she was Bathing.</p> - -<p>4. The pastoral Amours of <i>Daphnis</i> and -<i>Chloe</i>; Translated from the <i>Greek of Longus</i>, -with nine curious Cutts.</p> - -<p>5. <i>Plautus</i>, three Comedies; Translated -by Mr. <i>Echard</i>.</p> - -<p>6. The Spartan Dame by Mr. <i>Southern</i>, the -Fifth Edition; to which is added above 400 -Lines left out in the Representation. The 1st -Edition.</p> - -<p>7. <i>Sophonisba</i>; or <i>Hannibal</i>’s Overthrow. -A Tragedy; by Mr. <i>N. Lee</i>.</p> - -<p>8. The Country Wit, or Sir Mannerly -Shallow, a Comedy; by Mr. <i>Crown</i>.</p> - -<p>9. Don <i>Carlos</i>, a Tragedy. <i>Venice</i> preserv’d, -a Tragedy; the Orphan, or the unhappy -Marriage, a Tragedy. By Mr. <i>Otway</i>.</p> - -<p>10. The Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh and -Twelfth Parts of the <i>Arabian</i> Nights Entertainment, -in 2 Vol. in 12ᵒ. never before -Translated into <i>English</i>.</p> - -<p>11. Sir <i>Walter Rawleigh</i>, a Tragedy: By -Mr. <i>Sewell</i>.</p> - -<p>12. <i>Les Deux</i> Harlequins, a Comedy in -<i>French</i> and <i>English</i>, being one of the most -admir’d of the <i>French</i> Plays, and Recommended -by the most Eminent Masters of <i>London</i>, -for the use of those who desire to attain -to the perfection of the <i>French</i> Language.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>With all Sorts of Plays, Novels</i>, &c.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>FINIS.</i></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE IN EXCESS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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