of my not Writing to you all this while. I have not been one moment
alone for this Fortnight past, but condemn'd to entertain a mix'd
company, all of different Humours, different ways of Living, and of
Conversing; so that 'twas almost impossible to please one without
Contradicting anothers Humour. You may judge how uneasie this was to me;
for I've often told you, I had rather be all my Life alone, than with a
Company that is not chosen: That I sometimes prefer Solitude even to the
best, and that I had now retir'd to avoid the World: But I find one
never enjoys any thing without disturbance that one places one's
happiness in; and I was to blame to expect a singular Fate shou'd be cut
out for me. But whatever Accident deprives me of any thing else I Love,
I can never be unfortunate, if _Cleander_ continues to be my Friend. You
may remember I broke off my last, where I had resolv'd to see
_Cloridon_, as he desir'd. We met as often as we cou'd, extreamly to
both our satisfactions: He told me all his little uneasinesses, and had
so great a Confidence, in me, that he discover'd some Intreagues of
State to me, that are yet unknown to some that think they are not
strangers to the most secret transactions of the Court; and he never
undertook any of his own Affairs of greatest moment, without asking my
Advice. Thus we liv'd for two Months, and nothing past that gave me
Reason to repent an Action, that was not ill in it self; but might be
so by the Consequences of it, till one day, when he had been telling me
several things which concern'd him nearly: _But there's one Secret_,
says he, Olinda, _that I have never told you yet, tho' it takes up all
my Heart: But 'tis that I believe you know it too well already_. I said,
I cou'd not so much as guess at it. _What_, Olinda _interrupted, is it
possible you shou'd be Ignorant, that I am the most in Love of any Man
in the World? How cou'd you imagine, I that knew you so well cou'd have
only a Cold Respect or Friendship for you? No no_, Olinda, _I Love you;
I love you Ardently; I cannot live unless you give me leave to tell you
so; and to hope that you will one day return it_. I was so amaz'd at
this Discourse, I did not know what to Answer: It vex'd me to be oblig'd
to alter my way of Living with him; but I did not find my self so Angry
at his Love as I ought. However, I disguis'd my thoughts, and put on all
the Severity that is needful in such Cases. I have more Reason to be
displeas'd with such a Declaration from you my Lord, _said I_, than any
other: You that say you knew me so well; What have you seen in me to
Encourage it? Have I ever given you occasion to suspect my Virtue? Or is
it that you are tired with my Conversation, and therefore take this most
effectual means to be freed from it? _Inhumane Fair!_ said he, _Must you
hate me because I love you? can you Resolve not to let me see you, only
because you know I desir'd it more than before?_ In short, he said the
most passionate things that a Lover can imagine; and tho' I found he
mov'd my Heart too much, I dissembled well enough to hide it from him.
Nothing he said, cou'd prevail with me to see him, and I hop'd Absence
wou'd help me to forget him. He Writ many melancholly Letters to me,
telling me all the Court took notice of his Grief; that it would shortly
be his death, if I would not see him; and beg'd me to live with him as I
had done, and he wou'd never speak to me of his Love. But still I
refus'd, tho' unwillinglly. I was Angry at my self for thinking of him,
and for being pleas'd, when some told in Company where I was, that he
had been so out of Humour for some time, that no Body durst speak to him
of Business. I lov'd to think it was for me, and ask'd a hundred
Questions about him. But now the Publick Affairs oblig'd him to go to
_Flanders_, where he perform'd Actions Worthy of himself. His Valour,
Generosity, and Liberality were talk'd of everywhere, which still more
and more engag'd me. I cou'd not but have some Inclination for so fine a
Man, when I consider'd that he lov'd me too: However, I believ'd I had
only that Esteem for him which I thought due to his Merit, and that
Gratitude which the Obligations I had to him requir'd. But I grew
insensibly more Melancholy than Usual. One Evening that my Mother and I
were taking a serious Walk by the Canal in St. _James_'s Park, a
Gentleman of her Country, and Acquaintance, seeing us at a distance,
came to bear us Company: The Air being pretty Cool, we wore our Masks,
and after we had made two or three Turns, he saw a Friend of his, of the
same Nation, coming towards us. _That_, says he, _is_ Antonio, _Son to
my Lord ---- He is a very well Accomplish'd Gentleman, and has a good
Estate, I wish he were Married to_ Olinda. I know the Family, and have
hear'd of him, _Replyed my Mother_, I shou'd not dislike the Match. By
this time he was come up to us, and after having beg'd Pardon for
intruding, and leave to Walk with us, he turn'd of my side. He had not
seen my Face, for it was duskish, and I only made a Fashion of lifting
my Mask upon our first Compliments; but yet he said abundance of fine
things, of my Beauty and Charms. After half an Hours Conversation we
were going home, and they would needs wait upon us, but one of his
Servants met him, and told him he had been looking for him a long time;
some Friends of his that were going out of _England_ the next day, staid
for him in the Mall, and must speak with him immediately. So he left us
to the tothers Care, and went back. The first time _Antonio_ met with
his Friend, with whom he had seen us; he told him, he was so Charm'd
with the Ladies Conversation, that he could not rest till he saw her
again. He Answer'd, that he wou'd not like her if he had seen her, but
he wou'd carry him to Visit one, whose Beauty wou'd soon make him forget
her. _Antonio_ said that Wit and good Humour had far greater Charms for
him, than the finest Face in the World: But that you mayn't think me
obstinate, I will see her upon condition, that if her Eyes have not that
influence which you expect, you will make me acquainted with that Lady
whose Wit has engag'd me more perhaps than you imagine. He promis'd he
wou'd, and so left him, and came to our Lodging: He gave us an Account
of this Conversation, and desir'd us to continue the Humour, and not let
him know we had seen him before; for he fancy'd a great deal of Pleasure
in seeing me Rival my self. We agreed to it, and when they came, I
entertain'd him with the greatest simplicity imaginable: For you must
know I had an Aversion for him, which I cou'd give no Reason for (that
Passion is as unaccountable as Love) and therefore I was pleas'd he
shou'd think me a Fool, that he might not desire to see me again. I was
glad to perceive he was uneasie in my Company, and to make him the more
so, I talk'd very much, and very little to the purpose. When he was
gone, he said to his Friend, _That if_ Olinda _had the other Ladies
Soul, she wou'd be a dangerous Person; but that as she was, he cou'd no
more Love her than a fair Picture: That her Folly had only made him the
more eager to see the unknown, and therefore he claim'd his Promise_. He
_Answer'd_, that he did not know what a second sight of _Olinda_ might
do; but however not to be worse than his Word, he wou'd endeavour to
contrive a Meeting, but he cou'd not promise he shou'd see her Face, for
she was very shy of that, as she had some Reason. I was extreamly averse
to seeing him again, but this Gentleman was so earnest with me, and my
Mother said so much for it, for she was desirous to have us acquainted,
that I was almost forc'd to go; but Resolv'd not to shew my Face. He
carry'd _Antonio_ to the Park, at an appointed hour, when he said, he
heard the Lady say she wou'd be there; and we met 'em as if by chance.
We had a Conversation that wou'd have been diverting enough, if my
Hatred for him had not made me think, all he did or said disagreeable:
He told me I had been continually in his thoughts since he saw me, and
that I had made such an Impression in his Heart, as cou'd never be
alter'd. I said he must have a strange Opinion of my Credulity if he
thought I cou'd believe he was in Love with a Woman he never saw. _Ah!
Madam_, says he _how much more Charming are you Veil'd as you are than a
Beautiful Fool that can only please ones Eyes: Such a one as my Friend
here made me Visit the other day; and then he gave me a long Description
of_ Olinda, _and Related all her Discourse; which indeed was very
insipid_. We made some Satyrical Remarks upon the poor Lady, and then we
parted, tho' _Antonio_ wou'd fain have gone home with us; but we wou'd
not permit him. He was very importunate with his Friend after this, to
make him acquainted with the unknown; but he said, he durst not carry
him to see her without her leave; but he wou'd try to gain it, if he
continu'd to desire it, after seeing _Olinda_ two or three times. He
Reply'd, he wou'd endure so much Mortification, in hopes of so great a
Blessing as he promis'd him, but it must be speedy, for a Lover was
impatient; and he shou'd be better satisfied with seeing the Ugliest
Face he could imagine; than with that doubt he was in. In short, he
brought him to our Lodgings several times, and still I acted the Foolish
part; but yet he confess'd to his Friend, that I had mov'd him a little;
and he Refus'd to see me again for fear he said, that he shou'd Love a
Woman that he cou'd not Esteem: But one moments interview with his other
Charmer wou'd deprive _Olinda_ of that little part she had gain'd of his
Heart. A little after some young Ladies that I knew, were going to the
Play, and begg'd me to go with them: I was so chagrin, I cou'd not think
of any diversions; but that made them the more pressing, urging it wou'd
cure my Melancholy. So I went with them, and the first sight I saw was
_Antonio_ and his Friend. The last seeing a Lady that was not handsome
with me; it came into his thoughts to say, that was she that _Antonio_
was in Love with. He gaz'd upon her with the greatest eagerness
imaginable, for a long time; then turning to another that was with them;
which of those two, _says he_, (pointing to her and me) do you like
best? You amaze me with that Question, _Returned he_, for I think there
is too great a Disparity between them, to leave any doubt that it must
be _Olinda_: (for he new my Name.) You wou'd alter your Opinion, says
_Antonio_, if you knew them both as well as I; for _Olinda_'s Beauty is
more than doubly Valu'd by the others Wit, and solid Judgment. But
_Olinda_ has both, _Replyed the Gentleman_; which I believe you can't
but know if you have ever talk'd with, or heard of her: For every body
gives her that Character. They Wrong her extreamly, says _Antonio_, for
she is really Foolish to deserve Pity; I never Conversed with a Woman
whose Company was so tiresome; she talks Eternally, and not one Word of
Common Sense. 'Tis impossible your Friend here, who is a very good
Judge, has often said such things of her to me, that I must think you
mistake the Woman. I have been too often with her for that, says
_Antonio_, you may rather believe my Friend Jear'd her. Then they
question'd him about it; but he Laugh'd, and said, He never saw a pretty
Woman, but he thought she had Wit enough; so that they did not know what
to make of him; but _Antonio_, who would not have been sorry to find as
much Wit in _Olinda_, as he imagin'd in one, whose outside did not
please him so well; took some pleasure in fancying himself deceiv'd;
tho' when he consider'd it seriously, he could not believe it. However
he enquired diligently of all that cou'd inform him any thing of me,
which did more confound him: For they agreed, that I was far from being
a Fool, and he cou'd not imagine to what end I shou'd pretend it: But
was Resolv'd to find it out. He came often to see us, and still found me
the same Fool, till one day when we had a great deal of Company, I was
extreamly put to it; for I did not care for making my self ridiculous to
so many; and 'twas not good Manners to be silent; however, I chose
rather to be Rude, than undeceive him: I often made as if I did not hear
when I was spoke to; but I was obliged to Answer, when one said to me,
what's the matter with you _Olinda_, that you are Dumb of a sudden? I am
sure you ought not; for if it were pardonable in any Woman to talk
always, 'twould be in you, that do it so well. I was so confused at this
Compliment, that came so _male a propos_; that I believe I did not
Answer it over wisely; but as my ill Fate would have it, a Lady in the
Company took a Paper out of her Pocket, saying, _I am resolved to make_
Olinda _speak whether she will or not; and I will leave you to judge,
whether she does not do it well in this Song_. So she read one that I
had Writ at her desire; for she sung very well. I would fain have denyed
it, but I saw it was in vain, for Wit will out one way or other.
_Antonio_ seemed overjoyed at this Discovery, and I was as much grieved:
For no Woman had ever a greater desire to be thought Wise, than I to be
thought otherwise. He came to see me every day from that time, and when
his Friend told him, that he hoped he would not dispute _Olinda_'s Power
any longer, since she made him so absolutely forget her, whom he had
once preferred so much to her; he said, that it was not the same
_Olinda_ whom he loved, for she had chang'd her Soul. Nor had he forgot
the other, for it was that Wit, that same turn of Thought, and agreeable
Conversation which he admir'd in her, that he ador'd in _Olinda_. I do
not know, whether he ever knew, that they were both one Person, but he
did not desire to see the other. When he discovered his Love to me, I
entertained it so coldly, that he could have little hopes, but that is
the last thing that quite forsakes a Lover: And it did not hinder him
from persisting. He watched his opportunity, when he saw any thing had
pleased me, but still he was Repulsed with greater Scorn. I took delight
when he was with me, to Repeat often those Words in _Sophonisba; The
Fort's impregnable, break up your Siege, there is one for you too mighty
entered in; the Haughtiest, Bravest, foremost Man on Earth_. He
importuned me extreamly to know who this Happy Man was; and Vowed if I
would tell him, he'd never mention his Passion to me again; but I told
him, if there was such a Man, it was the same Reason he should trouble
me no more, as if he knew who he was; since that could make no
alteration in my heart: And perhaps it was a Secret; however, that I
would hear no more of his Love. He Begg'd, and Sigh'd, and Whin'd, an
Hour or two to make me Reverse my Doom; but in vain; and I was pleas'd
that he believed me in Love, tho' I did not think it my self. He
continued to Visit me without saying any thing of particular to me; and
without suspecting the Object of my Love; 'till my Mother and some
Company were talking of the great Actions _Cloridon_ had done; just as
they Named him, he looked at me, (by chance it may be) but I being a
little Guilty, thought it was designed, Blushed, looked down, and was
confused, which made me blush the more; and that was enough to fix a
Jealousie that had long possest him, and that Watched for the least
shadow of Reason to place it upon any particular person. I was so
ashamed of my self, that I was not able to stay in the Room, and when I
was gone, _Antonio_ kept up the Discourse of _Cloridon_; begun to praise
his Person, and ask'd my Mother what she thought of him. She said, 'twas
so long since she had seen him, that she had almost forgot him; but that
her Daughter had seen him lately, (and so told upon what occasion) and
that she Extolled him for the finest Man she ever saw. This confirmed
his Jealousie; and the first Opportunity he had with me, he told me some
News of _Cloridon_: And then asked me if I had ever seen him, and how I
liked him. I knew nothing of what my Mother had said; and not being
willing he should believe what I found he suspected; I answered, that I
had seen him two or three times in Walks at a distance: That I thought
he was well enough, but not so handsome as Fame had made him. There
needed no more to remove all doubt that he was his Rival; but how to
know the particular Terms we were in, was the difficulty; he knew his
Character, and thought me Virtuous, and therefore could not fear any
thing Criminal betwixt us; but he resolved to try if my Affections were
strongly engaged; and to that end he shew'd me a Letter from _Flanders_,
wherein it was told him, that _Cloridon_ (to the great wonder of all
there) had a young Lady disguised in Men's Cloaths with him all the
Campagne, and that it was discovered by an Accident, which he gave a
large Account of. I found my self seized with an unusual I know not
what, and did all my endeavours to conceal it, but I changed Colour two
or three times, and he having his Eyes continually upon me 'twas
impossible but he must observe my concern: However, he said nothing of
it to me, and I forced my self to talk of things indifferent. As soon as
I was alone, I examined my self upon the matter. Why should this trouble
me (said I within my self) who would not entertain his Love, when it was
offered me, and I have often Resolved never to see him, even when I
thought him Constant? How comes it then, that I am so Grieved and Angry
that he loves another? And that I wish with such impatience for his
Return? In fine, I discovered, that what I had called Esteem and
Gratitude was Love; and I was as much ashamed of the Discovery, as if it
had been known to all the World. I fancyed every one that saw me, read
it in my Eyes; And I hated my self, when Jealousie would give me leave
to Reason, for my extravagant thoughts and wishes: Mean while _Antonio_
would not be Idle, he thought this was the time for him; when my Anger
was Raised against _Cloridon_; that that and my Obedience to my Mother
(if he could get her of his side, which he did not much doubt) would
induce me to Marry him; and then he did not fear, but Reason and Duty
would overcome my Love. Accordingly he had my Mother's Consent, and
entreated her to intercede for him; but all this was so far from having
that effect which he expected, that I hated him the more: I was so
unjust as to look upon him as the Cause of my Affliction, and I was so
Angry to see him take such Measures, as I foresaw must make me very
uneasie, that I treated him ill, even to Rudeness. But I will leave him
and _Olinda_ equally unhappy, till the next Post; and then give you an
Account of some Alteration in their Affairs, which if it gave her ease,
I believe a little encreased his pains. In the mean time believe, that I
remain
_Your Friend_, Olinda.
[Decoration]
LETTER V.
'TIS not possible for you to imagine, much less for me to express what I
endur'd, by my own Jealousie, and _Antonio_'s Persecution: Either of 'em
wou'd have been grievous enough, but together they were intolerable; and
I cou'd expect no Remedy, for I knew not what I wou'd have. I did not
continue one moment in the same Mind; I long'd for _Cloridon_'s Return,
and yet I resolv'd not to see him, tho' when I thought that perhaps he
would not desire it, I almost dy'd with the Fear; but that was soon
over, for a Week after _Antonio_ had shew'd me the Letter I mention'd in
my last, he came to Town, and sent me a Letter the first Night, fill'd
with the tenderest expressions of Love, and Vows, that all his Fortune
and Conquests abroad could not give him the least Joy, whilst I remained
inexorable; and a hundred Entreaties to see him once, and he shou'd die
contented. This was some satisfaction to me; but 'twas but imperfect:
Sometimes I believ'd all he said, and presently after call'd him false
and Perjur'd: One while I resolv'd not to answer him, and the next
Minute chang'd my Mind; but I was long before I cou'd fix upon what to
say. At last I writ with a great deal of affected coldness, only I gave
him some dark Hints of the Lady I had heard was with him, which in his
Answer he said, he did not understand. He writ several times to me by
private Direction, which I had given him when I believ'd he was only my
Friend; but a little after he sent to our Lodgings, to tell me, that he
had a Place at his disposal, which if I had any Friend that wou'd accept
of it, was at my Service. My Mother made me return him Thanks, and tell
him, that I had a Relation who was very fit for the Employment, who
shou'd wait upon him, but he was not now in Town. _Cloridon_, who
desir'd no better occasion, sent me word, that if I wou'd let him see
me, he wou'd tell me what was to be done in it; for it was not a thing
to be neglected, because there were a great many pretended to it, who
might get it by some other means, since it did not wholly depend on him.
I did not know what pretence to make to hinder my going, for I durst not
tell my Mother of our Meeting without her knowledge: And perhaps I was
glad of the necessity of seeing him, since it took away the Fault, and
serv'd for an excuse both to my self and him; tho' I was sorry to be
forc'd to receive new Obligations from him. I never saw a Man in such an
extasie of Joy, as he appear'd to be in at this Interview: He was
Speechless and Motionless for a long time, and when he spoke, 'twas with
so passionate and charming Words and Air, that I was not able to say
those severe things I design'd. I check'd him for obliging me to see
him, after I had refus'd him so often, that he might know 'twas contrary
to my Inclinations; but (as he told me since) he saw something in my
Eyes which made him think, I was not very Angry with him: And when I
explain'd that part of my Letter which hinted of the Lady, I did it in
such a manner, that he believ'd me Jealous. At first he seem'd amaz'd at
what I told him, but afterwards he deny'd it so coldly, and took so
little pains to perswade me 'twas false, that I was enrag'd; which still
discover'd my Weakness the more. He found one pretence or other for
delaying the Business, and for seeing me two or three times, and took
pleasure in heightning my Jealousie; till he thought, if he trifled with
me any longer, he might lose me for ever: And then he begun to protest
seriously, There was no such thing, that it must be the invention of
some particular Enemy of his; for if I wou'd give my self the trouble to
enquire, I should find it was no general Report, and 'twere impossible
it shou'd not be known by every Body, if what I had heard was true. We
easily believe what we wish; and when I consider'd from whom I had the
Story, I much doubted the truth of it: And whilst I saw him, and heard
him Swear, he had never had the least inclination for any other Woman
since he saw me. I was firmly perswaded of his Fidelity; but my
suspicions return'd a little, as soon as I left him. He told me, he
cou'd willingly forgive the Invention, since it had occasion'd the
discovery of my Sentiments, which were to his Advantage; but reply'd,
That he need not much boast of what my Weakness had reveal'd; for tho' I
cou'd not now deny that my Heart took too great a part in what concern'd
him, yet since he knew it, nothing shou'd prevail with me to see him
again; and so I left him: But I cou'd not forbear saying at parting,
that he had made me very unhappy, and I wish'd I had never seen him,
tho' I condemn'd my self a hundred times for it afterwards. I ask'd of
all I knew that had been in _Flanders_, or had any Correspondence there,
if they heard of _Cloridon_'s having a Lady Disguis'd with him; but they
assur'd me, there was not so much as the least Report of it, which
pretty well satisfied me as to that: For every Action of a Man of his
Quality, and in his Post, is so narrowly observ'd, that a thing so
extraordinary cou'd not have been a Secret; but yet I was very desirous
to know upon what ground that Letter was writ to _Antonio_. However I
wou'd not examine him about it, because I saw he suspected my Love
already, tho' he had never told me; but still continued my most
assidious Humble Servant and Tormentor: And I think I was not much in
his Debt, for I really treated the poor Man Barbarously. My Mother gave
him all the opportunities she could, and one day that she had some
business that would keep her out till Night; she left me at home, and
gave Orders that no body should be admitted to see me but _Antonio_. I
was so vexed at this Command, that I resolved to revenge my self upon
him, and when I heard the Noise of one coming up Stairs, I prepared to
give him the rudest Reception I could: I sate Reading with my back
towards the Door, and did not rise when he came in, till I saw a Man
kneeling by my side; and then without looking towards him, I got up and
walked to the other end of the Room. _What, Madam_, says he, _is my
Offence so great? Or do you hate me so much, that you will not hear me
ask for Pardon?_ I found something in the Voice soft, and moving, which
struck me like one I was accustomed to be pleased with; and turning
about, I was amazed, Good God, _cryed I_, is it possible? Are you
_Cloridon_; or do I Dream? How could you come here?----, _How could I
forbear coming so long?_ interuppted he, _or how can I live a moment
from you? I must see you_ Olinda, _whatever I hazard, and since you
refused to let me a securer way, how could I neglect so favourable an
opportunity_? Then I desired to know by what means he knew, that I was
alone; and he told me, that since the last time he saw me, and that I
had been so good as to own my self sensible of his Love, he had had a
hundred Plots and Contrivances to see me; but found none so feasible as
that, which he had put in Execution. He sent a Servant whom he confided
much in, and Ordered him to try all means possible to know my Motions
when I went out, and when I was at home alone; and he had found the way
to gain the favour of a Servant that belonged to the Landlord of the
House, (no doubt he feted her well,) and she had engaged to be secret,
and to send him word when I was alone; but she did not know for whom she
did this Service; only he had told her, that it was a Man of Quality
that was in Love with me, and desired to see me privately, to know how I
was affected towards him, before he declared himself publickly. He came
to her that morning, and she told him, my Mother was gone out, and that
she heard her say, she should not come Home 'till Night; so that if he
would come with the Person that was to see me, she would be at the Door
to conduct him to me: When they came, she told them, that a Gentleman
that courted me had been there just now, but she denied that I was at
home on purpose to oblige him. I was angry that he should take so little
care of my Reputation; but he said, that it was not at all in danger,
for no body knew of it but that Servant who would not tell it for her
own sake; or if she did, she saw that 'twas all without my Knowledge.
That if I would not give my Consent to see him abroad, he should do
something more extravagant that might expose both me and him: But if I
would, he'd promise never to speak of his Love to me. In sine, by
Threatnings and Intreaties, and my own Inclination, I was prevailed
with, after I had made him swear not to mention his pretended Passion.
Forgive my Frailty, dear _Cleander_, it was not possible for me to
refuse the Man I loved any thing that could admit of excuse, and I found
or made Arguments enough to sooth my Inclination, and persuade me it was
no Fault only to see him. I hastned him away for fear he should be seen
with me, but he lingred on for two or three hours and just as he was
going I heard _Antonio_'s Voice asking for me, so that he could not go
out without meeting him. I was extreamly vexed, but this was no time to
fret or chide. I desired him to step into a Closet, which I had in the
Room; where I kept my Books, and told him I would contrive a way to be
rid of the other quickly. When I had Locked him in, I took my Hoods and
seemed to be putting them on, in order to go abroad, so that _Antonio_
could not in good Manners stay; but he desired, since he was so unhappy
as to be deprived of that satisfaction he expected in my Company, that I
would lend him some Book to divert his Melancholy. I told him, that he
would have found so little in my Company, that he needed not much mourn
for the loss of it: But as my ill Fate would have it, he was so pressing
to borrow a Book, that I knew not how to refuse it; I turned the
Discourse and sat down, and said, I had altered my Resolution, and would
stay at home. _Antonio_ wondred at this mighty Favour, he was so unused
to receive any from me, that he was Transported at it: He thanked me for
it a hundred times, and I believe presaged no little good Fortune for
him from such a Change, tho' my way of entertaining him, gave him no
great encouragement. If I should give you a particular Account of our
Conversation, it would be as impertinent to you, as it was troublesome
to me; I will only tell you, I never passed an Hour with half so much
pain as that, having for addition to the usual uneasiness his Company
made me endure, that of the unseasonableness of the time. Whilst I was
fretting at this unhappy Accident, and fearing he would not go away till
my Mother came home, our Landlord's Maid came to tell me, there was one
below would speak with me: I went down and saw it was that Servant of
_Cloridon_'s, which he had spoke of to me; he told me, that the King had
sent twice for his Lord, and desired me to tell him, that he must of
necessity go presently, for the business was of importance. This was a
new Vexation; and I staid some time to deliberate what I should do, and
at last, resolved to say I was sent for by a Lady that was Sick, that so
_Antonio_ might be obliged to leave me. But how was I surprized, when I
returned and found _Cloridon_ in the Room! I needed not dissemble an
astonishment, for I was as much amazed to see him there, as if I had not
known he was in the House. He advanced towards me, with a Ceremonious
Bow, saying, _You have Reason, Madam, to wonder, and to be Angry at me?
but when you know, that it is the general Frailty of Mankind that
brought me hither, your goodness sure will pardon me: I mean Love,
Madam, Love which makes the Wisest Men guilty of the greatest
Irregularities_. I blushed at what he said, not apprehending his design,
and told him his being there, and his Discourse were both so mysterious
to me, that I did not know what to answer him. He said, he thought
himself obliged to tell the Truth, since my Reputation would be in
danger by concealing it: But first he must beg me to pardon the Servant
of the House, and not to let her Master know of it; for he having taken
a fancy to her, had wheedled her into a Consent, to let him come and see
her, tho' the Wench was very honest: That our Family being all abroad,
she had brought him into that Room, and hearing me returned, she had put
him into the Closet, believing I would go out again: But finding I staid
long, he had entertained himself with my Books, and in removing some had
thrown down others, the noise of which had made _Antonio_ open the Door;
and since it was his Fortune to be discovered in a Foolish thing, he
hop'd the Gentleman and I, would let it go no further. We gave him our
Word for it; and when he was gone, we both sat silent for a long time,
each expecting what t'other would say: At last he begun. _Cloridon_ was
hard put to it, to be forced to discover such a secret; he that has
acquired the Reputation of Chast, found out to be so little Nice, as to
take such pains, for one of so mean Quality, and one that has not many
things to recommend her. You have the Luck, _said I_, to find out
_Cloridon_'s Intreagues, when no body else knows any thing of 'em: And
he may thank his Good Stars his secret falls into such hands; if you are
as careful of this, as you have been of that in _Flanders_, which no
body but you has ever heard of. _I shall certainly conceal it Madam_,
replyed he, _for your Fame sake; for the malicious World would be apt to
fancy his thoughts were something higher than a Dirty Wench, when he was
put into your Closet: But I am to believe what you please, and if you
tell me you never saw him before, but in Walks at a distance, I won't
doubt of it_. I am not much concerned what you, or any thinks of me,
_says I_, my satisfaction does not depend upon Opinion: And I shall be
always happy, as long as I am innocent; whether you believe me so or
not. However I owe so much to Truth, to assure you, that whatever
designs _Cloridon_ had, I knew no more of his coming here than you did,
and that I am very Angry at him for it. _If you had not told me so
Madam, I should, it may be, have thought you would rather have lent me a
Book, than endured my Company so long (which you always used to avoid)
but that you feared I should see him, if you opened the Closet; but I am
very glad, you will have me interpret your staying with me more to my
advantage._ I was vexed he should think it was to oblige him; and since
I found he was Master against my Will, of the greatest part of my
Secret, I thought it best to make him a Confident of it, which would
prevent his Addresses to me, and engage him to the greater Fidelity. I
told him then, all that was betwixt us; and he gave me some good
Counsels, not to cherish a Love, or entertain a Correspondence that
might in the end prove dangerous, considering his Circumstances; but I
was too far gone to take them, and besides, coming from a Rival, I did
not make much Reflexion upon them. Advices by an interested Person, tho'
never so reasonable, are not minded, or at least are much suspected,
especially when they contradict the inclination of the Advised. I did
not tell him, I had consented to see _Cloridon_, because I resolved not
to tell him any thing, but what I could not conceal. I did not see
_Antonio_ in a Month after, but he sent often to ask how we did, and
said, _he was very ill himself_. He Writ once to me, to tell me he was
endeavouring to overcome a Passion, which he found was displeasing to
me, and which therefore must make him very unhappy; and to beg me, if he
could effect it, to accept him as a Friend, and not continue that hatred
for him then, which I had for my Lover. Mean while, the too Charming
_Cloridon_ and I met together often: At first we entertained one another
with all the News, and little Intreagues of the Town; he put so entire a
Confidence in me, was so pleased to see me, and so obliging to me, and
my Relations upon all Occasions, that I then thought my self happy, to a
degree that left no Room for Wish; for he gave me the greatest evidences
of his Love, without speaking of it to me, which was all I could desire
from a Man, whose Love I preferred to every thing but Virtue; and who I
could not hear talk of it without a Crime: But how easily are we drawn
in by such steps as these, to things we had made the strongest
Resolutions against. In some time he made Complaints to me, and spoke of
his Passion in a third Person, so that I might understand him, but I
could not be angry with him; and I knew not how insensibly, and by
degrees I accustomed my self to hear of his Love; at first defending my
self against it, and chiding him for breaking his Word; but his Excuses
seemed to me stronger Reason than my Accusations; and at last I
suffered it with Pleasure, and without Reluctancy. Thus my unwary Heart
entangled it self more and more, pleasing it self with its own Folly,
without looking backward or forward; happy for the present on all sides,
for now I was no longer troubled with _Antonio_. He after a Months
absence came to see me, and told me, he desired nothing of me now but my
Friendship, and to convince me, he was not my Lover, he would tell me a
secret in favour of _Cloridon_, if I would promise to forgive him; I
told him I would, and then he gave me that Account which I have given
you, of his first suspecting my Love, and how to try it, he had feigned
that Letter which he shewed me; that he had resolved to undeceive me, as
soon as he had discovered what Sentiments I had for him; but when he saw
how it affected me, Jealousie would not give him leave, and love
prompted him to make use of it to his own Advantage. He added, that tho'
Love had made him guilty of Treachery so much contrary to his Nature,
yet I should always find him the most sincere, and the most faithful of
his Friends. Tho' I believed before that Story to be an invention; you
cannot imagine how much I was pleased, to be sure of it now. I easily
pardon'd him, since I had promised it, and since I thought he deserved
it, having told it voluntary. From that time I received him more
favourably than I used to do, and took some pleasure in his
Conversation, because he was the only Man that knew of my Love, and that
I could talk with freely of _Cloridon_. But now my Mother perceived I
had some more complaisance than before for _Antonio_; she wondred he
talked nothing of Marriage to her, and told me her thoughts, which put
me upon new contrivances, how I might shun her Anger, and yet _Antonio_
come off with Honour. I found him raise scruples against all the Methods
I would invent, and often he asked me, if I design'd never to Marry,
and what Reasons I could always give for not doing it; which made me
apprehend he was not altred so much as he seemed; and fear I should have
some trouble in this Affair, he had told me, that when he was very
young, his Father had contracted him to a kinswoman of his, that lived
in the House with them, who had a great Fortune, and he heard was
handsome, and witty; but he went to his Travels before it could be
known, whether she was either so; that he had never had any Love for
her: I had a great mind to let my Mother know this, for I knew she was
scrupulous in such things, and would not consent to Marry me to a Man,
that had any engagement to another; but I was loath to do it, without
his leave, since he was so sincere as to tell it me, and because I was
afraid to exasperate him. I took a great deal of Pains to flatter him
into a complyance; I told him my Mother could not have the worse Opinion
of him for it, since it was a thing done when he was so young, and that
he could have no other Reason to hinder him, now that he had no design
upon me, which if he had, I should find other ways to disappoint them,
tho' perhaps they might make me more uneasie. At last, with much
difficulty he agreed to it, and when I told it to my Mother, I found her
affected as I wish'd; which when _Antonio_ knew, he fetched a great
Sigh, and only said, _Have I lost all my hope then, Madam?_ and so went
away extreamly discomposed. A while after he came to take leave of us,
and said his Father had sent for him in haste, to go to his own Country;
but he told me in private, that he could stay no longer in a place,
where he grew every day more and more unhappy; and that now he had
resolved to leave it: He could not forbear telling me, that he had only
concealed his Love all this while, to get into my Favour, and in hopes
of finding something which might give him hopes. But since I had now
deprived him of all, he would not encrease his Misery, by seeing every
day the Objects of his Love, and of his Hate, his cruel Mistress, and
his happy Rival. I am told his Father presses him extreamly to Marry,
being his only Son, but he waves it. I should think I had given you a
Description of a Miracle of Constancy in spight of Rigours and Absence;
but that in this Age, kindness is a more effectual way to cure Love; an
unlucky thing, since no body will attempt it, that has that design; but
I, (or Fortune for me,) found you see, a less dangerous way to free my
self, with more ease than I could hope, and I think it is time to
deliver you now, and give you a little respite till next Post, when you
may expect the continuance of the History of
_OLINDA_.
[Decoration]
[Decoration]
LETTER VI.