_The base designs of the count de Bellfleur occasion a melancholy change
in Louisa's way of life; the generous behaviour of monsieur du Plessis
on that occasion._
Had the agonies Louisa suffered been of very long continuance, she must
have sunk under them; but grief is easily dissipated in a young heart,
and she awoke more tranquil.--The principles of religion grew stronger
as her passion weaker, and she reflected that she ought to submit in
every thing to the will of heaven, which sometimes converts what seems
the greatest evil into good.--The offer of such a match as monsieur du
Plessis, a man she loved, and who was master of accomplishments which
might excuse the most violent passion, appeared indeed a happiness she
would have gloried in had she been really such as he took her for; but
then she had known him but a very short time, had no experience of his
principles or humour; and tho' he seemed all honour, could not assure
herself that the generosity which so much engaged her might not be all
artifice; at least she found to think so would most contribute to her
ease, therefore indulged it as much as she was able. She condemned
herself for having given monsieur du Plessis permission to continue his
visits, after having assured him he had nothing to hope from them,
because a further conversation might only serve to render both more
unhappy. She resolved however to give him no opportunity of talking to
her of his passion, and in order to avoid thinking of it herself as much
as possible, to go, as usual, into all company that came to Melanthe,
and partake of every diversion that offered itself.
Accordingly she forced herself to a gaiety, she was far from feeling,
vainly imagining that by counterfeiting a chearfulness, she should in
time be able to resume it; but du Plessis hung too heavy at her heart,
and when she affected the greatest shew of mirth, it was often
interrupted with sighs, which she was not always sensible of herself. He
visited her almost every day under one pretence or other; but she took
such care never to be alone at the times that she could possibly expect
him, that he had not the least opportunity to renew his addresses, any
otherways than by his looks, which, notwithstanding, were perfectly
intelligible to her, tho' she seemed not to observe them.
Melanthe, no longer able to keep the secret of her amour, finding
Louisa, as she thought, had entirely regained her former sprightliness,
acquainted her with all had passed between herself and count de
Bellfleur; which, tho' the other was no stranger to, she seemed
astonished at, and could not help telling her, that she feared the
consequence of an intrigue of that nature would one day be fatal to her
peace. Yet, said Melanthe, where one loves, and is beloved, it is hard
to deny oneself a certain happiness for the dread of an imaginary
ill.--In fine, my dear Louisa, I found I could not live without him; and
heaven will sure excuse the error of an inclination which is born with
us, and which not all our reason is of force to conquer.--But, added
she, you always seem to speak of the count, as of a man that wanted
charms to excuse the tenderness I have for him; and, I have observed,
deny him those praises which I have heard you bestow very freely on
persons that have not half his merit.
Louisa knowing how vain it was to contest with inclination, in persons
who are resolved to indulge it, and also that all advice was now too
late, began to repent of what she said. If, madam, replied she, after a
little pause, I have seemed unjust to the count's perfections, it was
only because I feared you were but too sensible of them; for otherwise,
it must be owned, he has a person and behaviour extremely engaging; but
as the carnival will put an end to all the acquaintance we have
contracted here, it gives me pain to think how you will support a
separation.
Perhaps it may not happen so soon as you imagine, said Melanthe:--tho'
the carnival, and with it all the pleasures of this place will soon be
over, our loves may be continued elsewhere:--suppose, Louisa, we go to
France, added she with a significant smile, that shewed it was her
intention to do so.
Some company coming in, prevented any farther discourse on this head for
the present; but afterward she confirmed what she had now hinted at, and
told Louisa, that she had resolved to pass some little time in seeing
those places which were in her way to France, and afterwards meet the
count at Paris, on his return from the campaign. Louisa, unable to
determine within herself whether she ought to rejoice, or be sad at this
intended journey, fell into a sudden thoughtfulness, which the other at
that time took no notice of, but it served afterwards to corroborate the
truth of something she was told, and proved of consequence little to
be foreseen.
The inconstant count, in the mean time, satieted with Melanthe, and as
much in love with Louisa as a man of his temper could be, was contriving
all the ways his inventive wit could furnish him with to get handsomely
rid of the one, and attain the enjoyment of the other. As he had spent
many years in a continual course of gallantry, and had made and broke a
thousand engagements, he easily found expedients for throwing off his
intercourse with Melanthe, but none that could give him the least
prospect of success in his designs on Louisa while they lived together
and continued friends: to part them therefore was his aim, and to
accomplish it the following method came into his head.
On his first acquaintance with these ladies his design was wholly on
Louisa, but meeting a rebuff from her, his vanity rather than his
inclinations had made him turn his devoirs to Melanthe, who too easily
yielding to his suit, served but to heighten his desires for the other:
the extravagant fondness of that unhappy woman rendering her visibly
uneasy at even the ordinary civilities she saw him behave with to any
other, discovered to him that jealousy was not the least reigning foible
of her foul, and the surest means to make her hate that person whom it
was not the interest of his passion she should continue to love. When
they were alone together one day at the place of their usual rendezvous,
in the midst of the most tender endearments, he asked suddenly if she
had ever made Louisa the confident of his happiness. She was a little
surprized at the question, but answered that she had not, and desired to
know the reason of that demand; because, cried he, I am very certain she
is no friend to our loves; and by the manner in which she behaves to me,
whenever she has the least opportunity of shewing her ill humour, I
imagined she either knew or suspected the affair between us.
Melanthe, conscious she had hid nothing from her, and also sensible of
the little approbation she gave to her intrigue, was very much picqued
that she should have done any thing to make the count perceive
it;--whatever she suspects, cried she, haughtily, she ought not to treat
with any ill manners a person whom I avow a friendship for. Vanity,
answered he, sometimes gets the better of discretion in ladies of her
years:--she knows herself handsome, and cannot have a good opinion of
the man who prefers any charms to her own.--I imagine this to be the
cause why she looks on me with such disdain, and, whenever you are not
witness of her words, is so keen in satyrical reflections.--On our first
acquaintance she looked and spoke with greater softness, and I can
impute it to no other motive than the pride of beauty, that this sudden
change has happened.
All the time he was speaking, the soul of Melanthe grew more and more
fired with jealousy.--It is natural for every one to imagine whatever
they like is agreeable to others. The distaste which Louisa had on many
occasions testified for the count, seemed now to have been only
affected:--the melancholy she had been in, and the deep resvery she
remembered she had fallen into when first she informed her of their
amour, joined to convince her, that the advice she gave proceeded from a
motive very different from what she pretended.
The wily count saw into the workings of her soul; and while he seemed as
if he would not discover the whole of his sentiments for fear of
disobliging her, threw out the plainest hints, that Louisa had made him
advances which would have been very flattering to a heart not
pre-engaged, till Melanthe, not able to contain her rage, broke out into
the fevered invectives against the innocent Louisa.--The ungrateful
wretch! cried she, how dare she presume to envy, much less to offer an
interruption to my pleasures!--What, have I raised the little wretch to
such a forgetfulness of herself, that she pretends to rival her mistress
and benefactress! In the height of her resentment, she related to the
count in what manner she had taken her into her service; but that
finding her, as she imagined, a girl of prudence, she had made her a
companion during her travels, and as such treated her with respect, and
made others do so too;--but, said she, I will reduce her to what she
was, and since she knows not how to prize the honour of my friendship,
make her feel the severities of servitude.
Nothing could be more astonishing, and at the same time more pleasing to
count Bellfleur than this discovery: what he felt for Louisa could not
be called love, he desired only to enjoy her; and the knowledge of her
meanness, together with Melanthe's resentment, which he doubted not but
he should be able to improve to the turning her out of doors, made him
imagine she would then be humbled enough to accept of any, offers he
might make her.
Pursuant to this cruel aim, he told Melanthe, that now not thinking
himself under any obligation to conceal the whole of the affair, he must
confess Louisa had not only made him advances, but gone so far as to
discover a very great passion for him.--As I had never, said he, given
her the least room to hope I was ambitious of any favours from her of
that nature, I could not help thinking she was guilty of some
indecencies ill-becoming a woman of condition, as well as infidelity to
her friendship for you, whom she might well see I adored:--but alas! I
little suspected the obligations she had to you, and now I know what she
is, am in the utmost consternation at her ingratitude, impudence and
stupidity. Heavens! added he, could she have the vanity to imagine that
the genteel garb you had put her in, could raise her to such an
equality, as to make me hesitate one moment if I should give the balance
of merit on her side, and quit the amiable Melanthe for the pert charms
of her woman?
Melanthe, believing every thing he said on this occasion, was ready to
burst with indignation; which impatient to give vent to, parted from her
lover much sooner than she was accustomed, in order to wreak on the poor
Louisa all that rage and malice could suggest.
That innocent maid, little suspecting the misfortune that was falling on
her, was at ombre with some ladies who came to visit them, when the
furious Melanthe came home, and taking this opportunity of heightening
her intended revenge by making it more public,--so, minx, said she to
her, after having made her compliments to the company, you ape the woman
of fashion exceeding well, as you imagine; but hereafter know yourself,
and keep the distance that becomes you. With these words she gave her a
push from the table in so rough a manner, that the cards fell out of
her hand.
It is hard to say whether Louisa herself, or the ladies who were
present, were most astonished at this behaviour; every one looked one
upon another without speaking for some time: at last Louisa, who wanted
not spirit, and on this occasion testified an uncommon presence of
mind,--if I have seemed otherways than what I am, madam, said she, it
was your commands obliged me to it:--I never yet forgot myself, and
shall as readily resume what distance you are pleased to enjoin me.
Insolent, ungrateful wretch, cried Melanthe, vexed to the soul to find
her seem so little shocked at what she had done, if I permitted you any
liberties, it was because I thought you merited them;--but get out of my
sight, and dare not to come into it again till I send for you. I shall
obey you, madam, replied Louisa, and perhaps be as well pleased to be
your servant as companion.
This resignation and seeming tranquility under an insult, she expected
would have been so mortifying, was the greatest disappointment could be
given to Melanthe, and increased her rage to such a degree, that she
flew to her as she was going out of the room, and struck her several
blows, using at the same time expressions not decent to repeat, but
such, as in some unguarded moments, women of quality level themselves
with the vulgar enough to be guilty of. This is a behaviour, madam,
which demeans yourself much more than me, said Louisa, and when reason
gets the better of your passion, I doubt not but you will be just enough
to acknowledge you have injured me.
She got out of the room with these words, but heard Melanthe still
outrageous in her reproaches; but determined not to answer, made what
haste she could into her own chamber, where having shut herself in, she
gave a loose to the distraction so unexpected an event must
naturally occasion.
Pride is a passion so incident to human nature, that there is no breast
whatever that has not some share of it; and it would be to describe
Louisa such as no woman ever was, or ever can be, especially at her
years, to say she was not sensibly touched at the indignity she had
received from a person, but a few hours before, had treated her as
pretty near an equality with herself.--Nor was her amazement inferior to
her grief, when after examining, with the utmost care, all her words and
actions, she could find nothing in either that could possibly give
occasion for this sudden turn.
From the present, she cast thoughts back on the past accidents of her
life, and comparing them together, how cruelly capricious is my fate,
said she, which never presents me with a good but to be productive of an
adequate evil!--How great a blessing was the protection and tenderness I
found from Dorilaus, yet how unhappy did the too great increase of that
tenderness render, me!--What now avails all the friendship received from
Melanthe, but to make me the less able to support her ill usage!--And
what, of what advantage is it to me that I am beloved by a man the most
worthy to be loved, since I am of a condition which forbids me to give
any encouragement to his, or my own wishes!
In this manner did she pour forth the troubles of her soul, till the
hour of supper being arrived, Melanthe's woman knocked at the chamber,
and Louisa having opened it, she told her that she was sorry to see such
an alteration in the family, but it was her ladyship's pleasure that she
should eat at the second table. It is very well, said Louisa, resolving,
whatever she endured, not to let Melanthe see any thing she could do
disturbed her too much, and in saying so, went with her into the hall
and sat down to table, but with what appetite I leave the reader
to guess.
Melanthe, who now hated her to a greater degree than ever she had loved
her, gave to the ladies who were with her the whole history of Louisa,
as far as she knew of it, and rather aggravated, than any way softened
the mean condition from which she had relieved her; but when they asked
her what that unhappy creature had done to forfeit a continuance of her
goodness, she only answered in general, that she had found her to be an
ungrateful and perfidious wretch.
As she mentioned no particular influence on which this accusation was
grounded, every one was at liberty to judge of it as they pleased.--The
accomplishments Louisa was mistress of, made every one convinced she had
been educated in no mean way, tho' by some accidents she might have been
reduced to the calamities Melanthe had so largely expatiated upon, and
more there were who pitied her than approved the behaviour of her
superior:--some indeed, who had envied the praises they had heard
bestowed on her, were rejoiced at her fall, and made it a matter of
mirth wherever they came;--and others again thought themselves affronted
by having a person, who they now found was no more than a servant,
introduced into their company, and would never visit Melanthe afterward
the whole time she stayed in Venice.
The affair, however, occasioned a great deal of discourse: monsieur du
Plessis heard of it the next day related after different fashions. The
concern he was in was conformable to the passion he had for the fair
occasion, and both beyond what is ordinarily to be found in persons of
his sex. Impatient to know the truth he went to Melanthe's, and she
happening to be abroad, he desired to speak to Louisa, but was told she
was indisposed, and could see no company. These orders had been given by
Melanthe, but were very agreeable to Louisa herself, who desired to
avoid the sight of every one she had conversed with in a different
manner from what she could now expect; but of the whole world this
gentleman she most wished to shun.
He concealed the trouble he was in as well as he was able, and affecting
a careless air, told the person who answered him, that he only came to
ask if she had heard the last new song, and that he would send it
to her.
The moment he came home he sat down and wrote the following billet.
_To the ever charming_ LOUISA.
"That invincible bar you mentioned, yet
made so great a secret of, is at last revealed,
and I should be unworthy of the blessing I aspire
to, if I were unable to surmount it.
Cruel Louisa! you little know me, or the force
of that passion you have inspired, to imagine
that any difference which chance may have put
between us, can make the least alteration in my
sentiments!--It is to your own perfections I
have devoted my heart, not to the merit or
grandeur of your ancestors. What has my love
to do with fortune, or with family!--Does a
diamond lose any thing of its intrinsic value for
being presented by an unknown, or an obscure
hand?--My eyes convince me of the charms
of my adored Louisa; my understanding shews
me those of her mind; and if heaven vouchsafes
to bless me with so rich a jewel, I never shall
examine whence it came.--If therefore I am
not so unhappy as to be hated by you, let not
vain punctilloes divide us, and, as the first proof
of my inviolable passion, permit me to remove
you from a place where you have met with such
unworthy treatment:--I hope you wrong me
not so far as to suspect I any other designs
on you than such as are consistent with the
strictest honour; but to prevent all scruples of
that nature from entering your gentle breast, I
would wish to place you in a convent, the
choice of which shall be your own, provided it
may be where I sometimes may be allowed to
pay my vows to you thro' the grate, till time
shall have sufficiently proved my fidelity, and
you shall prevail on yourself to recempence my
flame, by bestowing on me your hand and heart:--the
one I would not ask without the other;
but both together would render the happiest of
mankind.
_Your eternally devoted_
Du Plessis.
_P.S._ As I perceive it will be next to an impossibility
to gain a sight of you while you continue
with that ungenerous woman, I entreat
to know by a line how I stand in your opinion,
and if the offers I make you, in the sincerity
of my soul, may be thought worthy
your acceptance."
This epistle he ordered his valet de chambre to give to her own hand, if
there were a possibility of it; and the fellow so well executed his
commission, being acquainted with Melanthe's servants, that he was
carried directly up to her chamber. She was a little surprized to see
him, because she knew it was contrary to Melanthe's commands that any
one should see her; and doubted not but to find she was treated with any
kind of respect, would enhance her ill humour to her. But she said
nothing that discovered her sentiments on this point, and with all the
appearance of a perfect ease of mind, asked what he had to deliver to
her. Only a song, mademoiselle, answered he, which my master ordered me
to give you, and to desire you will let him know how you like it:--he
says it might be turned into an admirable duetto, and begs you would
employ your genius on that score and send it by me.
Poor Louisa, who took his words literally, and thought her present
circumstances too discordant for the fulfilling his request, opened the
supposed piece of music with an aking heart; but when she had perused
it, and found the artifice her lover had made use of to communicate his
generous intentions to her, it is extremely fine, said she to the valet,
and I will do what he requires to the best of my power, but fear I shall
not be able to give it such a turn as he may expect. If you please,
continued she, to wait a little, I shall not be long before I dispatch
you. In speaking these words she went into her closet, and read over and
over the offers he had made, in which, with the strictest examination,
she could find nothing but what indicated the most perfect love, honour,
and generosity. In the first transports of her soul she was tempted to
comply; but her second thoughts were absolutely against it.--Those very
reasons which would have prevailed with almost any other woman, made her
obstinate to refuse:--the more she found him worthy, the less could she
support the thoughts of giving him a beggar for a wife; and the more she
loved him, the less could she content to be obliged to him; so she took
but a small time for consideration, before she returned an answer in
these terms:
_To the most accomplished, and most generous monsieur_ DU PLESSIS.
"As it was not owing to my pride or vanity,
but merely compliance with the will of
Melanthe, that my real meanness was made a
secret, I find it revealed without any mortification;
but, monsieur, the distance between us
is not shortened by being known: as the consciousness
of my unworthiness remains with
me, and ever must do so, I again repeat the
impossibility of accepting your too generous passion,
and, after this, you will not wonder I
should refuse those other obliging offers you are
so good to make.--I left my native country
with Melanthe, devoted myself to her service
while she was pleased to continue me in it, and
only wait her commands for my doing so, or to
return to England.--I believe, by what her
woman told me this day, the latter will be my
fate.--Think not, however, most truly worthy
of your whole sex, that I want eyes to distinguish
your merits, or a heart capable of being
influenced by them, perhaps too deeply for my
own future peace:--this is a confession I would
not have made, were I ever to see you more;
but as I am determined to shut myself from all
the world during my abode at Venice, I thought
I owed this little recompence to the generous
affection you express for me, and had rather you
should think any thing of me, than that I am
ungrateful.