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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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