therefore I must beg your Favour to satisfie it.’ ‘You may command any
thing of me,’ replied he, ‘Madam; but I am not so thoroughly inform’d of
his Adventures, to undertake the relating them to you; and I believe
’twere better I engage him into a Recital of them himself.’ He left me,
and went immediately to Embrace him, with the greatest Civilities and
Tenderness: Don Frederic de Cardonne, and Don Esteve de Carvajal, had
already accosted him, as their old Acquaintance; and when Don Fernand
had joyn’d them, they all earnestly intreated him to come with them when
Mass was over. He as earnestly excused himself; but being told, I was a
Stranger, and much importuned, that I might learn from himself, what had
oblig’d him to turn Hermit; he at length consented, on condition I would
permit him to bring one of his Friends, who was perfectly knowing in
what related to him: ‘Do us Justice,’ continued he, ‘and judge whether
’tis fit for me to relate such Particularities in this Habit I wear.’
They found he had Reason, and pray’d him to bring his Friend, which he
did a while after I was at my Lodgings: He presented a very fine
Cavalier to me; and taking leave of us very civilly, he told him, ‘He
should be oblig’d to him, if he would satisfie the Curiosity which Don
Fernand de Toledo had giv’n me, of knowing the Spring of his
Misfortunes.’ This Gentleman took place by me, and began in these Terms:
‘I think myself very Happy, Madam, that my Friend has chosen me to
satisfie the Desire you have of knowing his Adventures; but I fear I
shall not acquit myself so well as I would: The Person whose History you
wou’d learn, has been one of the finest Gentlemen in the World; it would
be hard to make a Judgment of him now; he is buried, as it were in his
Hermit’s Habit. He was an exceeding graceful Person, well shaped, of an
excellent Meine, and Noble Air: And in fine, had all the
Accomplishments, both Natural and Acquired, of a Person of Quality,
being liberal, witty and brave. He was born at Cagliari, Capital of the
Isle of Sardogne, one of the most illustrious and richest Families of
all that Country.
‘He was brought up with one of his Cousin-Germans; and the sympathy
which was found in their Humours, and Inclinations, was so great, that
they were more strictly united by Friendship than Blood: they had no
Secret from each other. And when the Marquess Barbaran was married
(which was his Cousin’s Name,) their Friendship continued in the same
force.
‘He married one of the finest Women in the World, and the most
Accomplisht; she was then not above Fourteen: She was Heiress to a very
Noble Estate and Family. The Marquess every day discovered new Charms in
the Wit and Person of his Wife, which likewise increased every day his
Passion. He speaks without ceasing, of his Happiness, to Don Lewis de
Barbaran; which is the Name, Madam, of my Friend; and when any Affairs
oblig’d the Marquess to leave her, he conjured him to stay with the
Marchioness, thereby to lessen the Trouble of his Absence. But alas! how
hard is it when one is at an Age uncapable of serious Reflections, to
see continually so fine a Woman, so young and aimable; and to see her
with Indifference! Don Lewis was already desperately in Love with the
Marchioness, and thought then ’twas only for her Husband’s sake: Whilst
he was in this Mistake, she fell dangerously sick; at which he grew so
dreadful melancholly, that he then knew, but too late, this was caus’d
by a Passion which would prove the greatest Misfortune of his whole
Life. Finding himself then in this condition, and having not strength to
resist it, he resolv’d to use the utmost Extremity, and to fly and avoid
a place where he was in danger of dying with Love, or breaking through
the Bonds of Friendship. The most cruel Death wou’d have seem gentler
than the Execution of this Design: When the Marchioness beginning to
grow better, he went to her to bid her Adieu, and see her no more.
‘He found her busied in choosing among several Stones of great price,
those which were the finest, which she intended to have set in a Ring,
Don Lewis was scarce entred the Chamber, but she desired him, with that
Air of Familiarity usual among Relations, to go and fetch her other
Stones which she moreover had in her Cabinet. He ran thither, and by an
unexpected good hap, found among what he lookt for, the Picture
enamell’d of the Marchioness, in little, set with Diamonds, and
incircled with a Lock of her Hair; it was so like, that he had not the
power to withstand the desire he had of stealing it: “I am going to
leave her,” said he, “I shall see her no more; I sacrifice all my quiet
to her Husband: Alas! is not this enough? And may I not without a Crime,
search in my Pain a Consolation so innocent as this.” He kist several
times this Picture; he put it under his Arm, he carefully hid it, and
returning towards her with these Stones, he tremblingly told her the
Resolution he had taken of Travelling. She appear’d much amazed at it,
and chang’d her colour. He lookt on her at this moment; he had the
pleasure of perceiving it; and their Eyes being of Intelligence, spake
more than their Words: “Alas! What can oblige you, Don Lewis,” said she
to him, “to leave us? Your Cousin loves you so tenderly; I esteem you;
we are never pleas’d without you; he cannot live from you: Have you not
already travelled? You have without doubt some other Reason for your
Departure, but at least do not hide it from me.” Don Lewis, pierc’d
through with sorrow, could not forbear uttering a deep Sigh, and taking
one of the delicate Hands of the Charming Person, on which he fixt his
Mouth, “Ah, Madam, What do you ask me?” said he to her, “What would you
have me say to you? And indeed, What can I say to you, in the Condition
I am in?” The Violence he used, to conceal his Sentiments, caus’d him
such a great Weakness, that he fell half dead at her Feet. She remained
troubled and confused at this sight: She oblig’d him to sit down by her;
she dared not lift up her Eyes to look on him; but she let him see
Tears, which she could not forbear shedding, nor resolve to conceal from
him.
‘Scarcely were they come to themselves, when the Marquess entred into
the Chamber. He came to embrace Don Lewis with all the Testimonies of a
perfect Friendship, and he was in the greatest trouble, when he
understood he parted for Naples. He omitted no Arguments to perswade him
from it, prest his stay with the greatest Earnestness, but all in vain.
He there immediately took his leave of the Marchioness, and saw her no
more. The Marquess went out with him, he left him not till the moment of
his Departure. This was an Augmentation of Don Lewis’s Sorrow; he would
have willingly remained alone to have an intire Liberty of afflicting
himself.
‘The Marchioness was sensibly afflicted at this Separation: She had
perceived he loved her, before he had known thus much himself; and she
had found in him such singular Merit, that for her part too she had
loved him without knowing it; but she found this to her Cost after his
Departure: Recovering but lately from a dangerous Sickness, of which she
was not perfectly cured, this unhappy Accident made her fall into a
languishing Indisposition, as soon rendred her quite another body; her
Duty, her Reason, her Vertue equally persecuted her: She was greatly
sensible of her Husband’s Respects to her, and she could not suffer but
with great Sorrow, that another should take up her Thoughts, and have so
great a place in her Affections. She dared not any more mention the Name
of Don Lewis; she never made any Enquiries after him; she made it an
indispensable Duty to forget him: This Violence which she used on
herself, was like a continual Martyrdom; she made one of her Women, In
whom she most confided, the Repository of this Secret: “Am I not very
unhappy?” said she, “I must wish never again to see a Man, towards whom
it is impossible for me to be in a state of Indifference; his Person is
always before mine Eyes; nay, I think sometimes I see him in the Person
of my Husband; the Resemblance which is between them, serves only to
nourish my Affection towards him. Alas! Mariana, I must die, to expiate
this Crime, although it be an involuntary one; I have only this means to
get rid of a Passion of which I cannot hitherto be Mistress: Alas, what
have I not done to stifle it, this Passion which yet is dear to me.” She
accompany’d these Words with a thousand Sighs: She melted into Tears;
and though this Woman had had a great deal of Wit and Affection to her
Mistress, yet she could say nothing to her could yield her any Comfort.
‘The Marquess in the mean time, every day reproacht his Wife with her
Indifferency to Don Lewis: “I cannot suffer,” said he to her, “that you
should think so little on the Man I love above all the World, and who
had so much Complaisance and Friendship for you: I must needs say, this
is a kind of Hardness, which would make one judge untowardly of the
Tenderness of your Heart: At least, you must grant, Madam, that he was
scarcely gone, but you forgot him.” “What good would my remembring him
do him?” said the Marchioness with a languishing Air, “Do not you see he
avoids us? Would he not have been still with us, if he had any real
Kindness for us? Believe me, my Lord, he deserves a little that we
should forsake him in our turn.” Whatever she could say, repel’d not the
Marquess; he still importun’d her to write to Don Lewis to Return. One
Day among the rest, she was gotten into his Closet to speak to him about
some Affairs; she found him busied in reading a Letter of D. Lewis,
which he lately receiv’d.
‘She would have retir’d; but he took this opportunity to oblige her to
do what he would have her; he told her very seriously, “That he could no
longer bear the Absence of his Cousin; that he was resolv’d to go find
him; that ’twas already two Years since he had been gone, without
intimating any desire of returning to his Friends and Country; that he
was perswaded he would yield a greater Deference to her Requests than
his; that he conjured her to write to him: And that in fine, she might
chuse either to give him this Satisfaction, or be content to see him
part for Naples, where Don Lewis was to make some stay.” She remain’d
surpriz’d, and perplext at this Proposal; but knowing he expected with
great Impatience her Determination, “What would you have me say to him,
my Lord?” said she to him with a sorrowful Countenance, “Dictate this
Letter to me, I will write it; I can do no more; and I believe this is
more than I ought.” The Marquess, transported with Joy, most
affectionately embrac’d her; he thank’d her for her Compliance, and made
her write these Words:
“If you have any Kindness for us, defer not your Return; I have very
urgent Reasons to desire it. I am not a little concern’d that you shew
such Indifference towards us, which is an unquestionable Indication that
you take no Delight in our Company. Return, Don Lewis, I earnestly wish
it; I intreat you: And if it were fit for me to use more urgent Terms, I
would say, perhaps, I Command you to do it.”
‘The Marquess made a single Pacquet of this fatal Letter, to the end Don
Lewis might not think ’twas by his Order the Marchioness had wrote it;
and having sent it to the Currier, he expected the Success with
extraordinary Impatience. What became of this Lover at the sight of so
dear and unexpected an Order! Although he had remarkt Dispositions of
Tenderness in the Countenance of this fair Person, yet he dared not
promise himself she could desire his Return; his Reason revolted against
his Joy: “How Unhappy a Wretch am I?” said he, “I Adore the most Aimable
of all Women, and yet I dare not offer to please her! She has a Kindness
for me, yet Honour and Friendship with-hold me from making the least
Advantage of it. What shall I do then, O Heavens! What shall I do! I
flatter’d my self, that Absence would Cure me: Alas! this is a Remedy
which I have fruitlesly tried; I have never cast mine Eyes on her
Picture, but have found myself more in Love, and more Miserable than
when I saw her every day. I must obey her, she commands my Return; she
desires to see me, and she cannot be ignorant of my Passion: When I took
my Leave of her, my Eyes declared to her the Secret of my Heart: And
when I call to mind what I saw in hers, all my Reflections then are to
no purpose; for I resolve rather to die at her Feet, than to live remote
from her.”
‘He parted without any delay, and without taking leave of his Friends.
He left a Gentleman to Excuse him towards them, and to order his
Affairs. He was in such great haste to see the Marchioness, that he used
such Diligence to be with her, that no body but he could have done: In
arriving at Cagliary, Capital of Sardagne, he understood that the
Marquess and his Wife were at a stately Country-house, where the
Vice-Roy was gone to give them a Visit, with all his Court. He learnt
moreover, that the Marquess de Barbaran prepared for him a great Feast,
where there were to be held Justs or Turnaments, after the Ancient
Manner of the Mores: He was the Defendant, and was to maintain, “That a
Husband beloved, is Happier than a Lover.”
‘Several Gentlemen that were not of this Opinion, were preparing
themselves to go and dispute the Prize, which the Marchioness, at the
Vice-Queen’s Intreaty, was to give to the Conquerour; ’Twas a Scarf
embroidered with her own Hands, wrought with Cyphers: No one was to
appear but maskt and disguised, to the end all might be freer and more
gallant.
‘Don Lewis had a secret Despight, in comprehending the Marquess so well
satisfied: “He is belov’d,” said he, “I cannot but look on him as my
Rival, and as an Happy Rival; but we must endeavour to disturb his
Happiness, in triumphing over his vain Glory.” Having formed this
Design, he would not appear in Town; he caus’d to be made a Suit of
strip’d Green Satin, embroidered with Gold, and all his Liveries were of
the same Colour, to denote his new Hopes.
‘When he entred into the Lissts, everybody had their Eyes on him; his
Magnificence and his Air gave Emulation to the Cavaliers, and great
Curiosity to the Ladies. The Marchioness felt a secret Emotion, of which
she could not discover the Cause: He was placed very near the Balcony,
where she sate with the Vice-Queen; but there was no Lady there which
did not lose all her Lustre near that of the Marchioness; her youthful
Air, which exceeded not eighteen Years, her lovely white and red Cheeks,
her Eyes so sweet and graceful, her Scarlet and little Mouth, agreeable
Smiles, and her Shape, which surpast the Fairest, made her the
Admiration of all the World.
‘Don Lewis was so ravish’d in seeing her so charming, and to observe yet
in her Countenance a languishing sorrowful Air, that he flattered
himself to have therein a part; and this was the first Moment wherein he
thought himself Happy. When his turn came, he ran against the Marquess,
and smote him so dexterously, that he got the Advantage all along of
him: so that in a word, he gain’d the Prize with a general Applause, and
with every one’s good-liking. He threw himself at the Marchioness’s
Feet, to receive it at her Hands; he altered the Tone of his Voice, and
speaking to her with his Mask on, low enough not to be heard but only by
her: “Divine Person,” said he to her, “be pleas’d to observe what
Fortune decides in favour of Lovers.” He dar’d not say more to her; and
without knowing him, she gave him the Prize, with this natural Grace
with which all her Actions were accompanied.
‘He suddenly withdrew himself, for fear of being known; for this might
have been an occasion of Quarrel between the Marquess and him; and
without doubt he would not have easily pardon’d the Victory he obtain’d
over him. This oblig’d him to keep himself still conceal’d for some
Days. The Vice-Roy and his Lady return’d to Cagliari, and the Marquess
and Marchioness accompanied them thither, with the whole Court.
‘Don Lewis then shew’d himself; he pretended he just then arriv’d, and
made as if he knew not what had past in the Field. The Marquess de
Barbaran was transported with Joy in seeing him; and Absence had not at
all altered the Affection he had for this dear Relation. He had no
difficult task to find a favourable moment wherein to entertain his
aimable Marchioness; he had as much liberty in their Lodgings as in his
own; and you may well judge, Madam, that he forgot not to mention the
Prize he had receiv’d from her fair Hands. “How wretched am I,” said he
to her, “that you did not know me? Alas, Madam, I flattered myself, that
by some secret Pre-sentiments you would learn, that no one but I could
sustain with such Passion the Cause of Lovers against Husbands.” “No my
Lord,” said she to him, with an Angry and Disdainful Air, to take away
all Hope from him, “I could never have imagin’d that you could have been
Patron of so foul a Cause; and I could not have believ’d you could have
taken such strong Engagements at Naples, that you should come as far as
Sardagne to Triumph over a Friend who maintain’d my Interests as well as
his own.” “I shall die with Regret, Madam,” said Don Lewis, “if I have
displeas’d you in what I have done; and were you more favourably
disposed, and I might dare to make you my Confident, it would be no hard
matter for me to persuade you, that it is not at Naples I have left the
Object of my Vows.”
‘The Marchioness apprehending lest he should speak more than she was
willing to hear, and appear livelily toucht with the Reproach she made
him, she put on a more pleasing Countenance, and turning the
Conversation into a Tone of Raillery, answer’d him, “He took too
seriously what she had said to him.” He dared not make use of this
occasion to declare his Love to her; for though he lov’d her above all
things, yet he respected her no less.
‘When he had left her, he began to blame himself for his Fearfulness:
“Shall I,” said he, “always suffer without seeking any Remedy!” It was
some time before he could meet with a favourable occasion, because the
Marchioness studiously avoided him; but being come one Night where she
was, he found her alone in an inward room, lying on a Bed in a most
lovely manner, and most becoming Undress, her Hair being fastened with
Knots of Diamonds, hung carelesly about her Breasts: The Trouble she
felt in seeing Don Lewis, appear’d on her Countenance, and rendred her
yet more lovely: He drew near her with an Awful and Respectful Air, fell
down on his Knees by her; he lookt on her for some time, not daring to
speak, but becoming a little more bold, “If you consider, Madam,” said
he to her, “the piteous Condition whereto you have reduced me, you will
easily comprehend that it is no longer in my power to keep Silence: I
could not avoid such inevitable Stroaks as you have given me; I have
adored you as soon as I saw you: I have endeavour’d to Cure myself in
flying from you; I have offered the greatest Violence to myself, in
endeavouring to master my Passion. You have recall’d me, Madam, from my
Voluntary Exile, and I die a thousand times a Day, uncertain of my
Destiny: If you be Cruel enough to refuse me your Pity, suffer at least,
that having made known to you my Passion, I may die with Grief at your
Feet.” The Marchioness was some time without resolving to answer him;
but at length, gaining Assurance, “I acknowledge,” said she, “Don Lewis,
that I am not wholly ignorant of one part of your Sentiments, but I was
willing to perswade myself ’twas the Effects of an Innocent Affection:
Make me not a Partner of your Crime; you commit one, when you betray the
Friendship due to my Husband: But, alas, you will pay but too dearly for
this; for I know that Duty forbids you to Love me; and in my Respect, it
does not only forbid me to love you, but to fly from you: I will do it,
Don Lewis, I will avoid you; and I do not know, whether I ought not to
Hate you: But, alas, it seems impossible to me to do it.” “What do you
then, Madam,” answer’d he, interrupting her, being full of Grief and
Despair, “when you pronounce the Sentence of my Death? You cannot Hate
me, say you; Do you not Hate me, and do you not do me all the Mischief
you are able, when you resolve to avoid me? Make an end, Madam, make an
end, leave not your Vengeance imperfect; sacrifice me to your Duty, and
your Husband; for my Life cannot but be odious, if you take from me the
Hopes of pleasing you.” She lookt on him at this instant with Eyes full
of Languishment: “Don Lewis,” said she to him, “you reproach me with
what I would deserve.” In ending these words, she arose, fearing
greatly, lest her Affection should triumph over her Reason; and
notwithstanding his endeavours to with-hold her, she past into a Chamber
where her Women were.
‘She thought she had gained much on herself in forcing her way out of
this Conversation without answering so favourably as her Heart could
have wisht; but Love is a Seducer, which must not be in any sort
hearkened to, if one will not be totally overcome by him. From that day
Don Lewis began to think himself Happy, though he wanted many things to
compleat his Felicity. The Marchioness, in effect, had a Principle of
Vertue which opposed itself always with Success to the desires of her
Lover.
‘He had no longer those Scruples of Friendship for the Marquess de
Barbaran which had so greatly disturbed his Mind; Love had perfectly
banisht Friendship; nay, he even secretly hated him.
‘In fine, Don Lewis flattering himself, that perhaps he might find a
favourable moment to affect the Marchioness’s Heart with some Pity; he
carefully sought it; and to find it, one day when ’twas very hot,
knowing that the Marchioness was wont to retire to Repose herself after
Dinner, as it is customary in that Country, he came to her, doubting not
but every body was asleep in the House.
‘She was in a Ground-Room which lookt into the Garden; all was fast and
shut close, save a little Window, whereby he saw on her Bed this
charming Creature: She was in a profound Sleep, half undrest; he had the
time to discover such Beauties as still augmented the force of his
Passion. He approacht so softly to her, that she did not awake: It was
already some moments that he had lookt on her with all the Transports of
a Man amazed, when seeing her naked Breasts, he could not forbear
kissing them. She arose on a sudden; she had not her Eyes open; the
Chamber was dark, and she could never have believ’d Don Lewis could have
been so bold. I have already told you, Madam, that he resembled the
Marquess de Barbaran; She did not doubt then but it was he, and calling
him several times, “her dear Marquess and Husband,” she tenderly
embrac’d him. He well knew his Error; whatever Pleasure it procured him,
he could have wished to have ow’d this only to his Mistress’s Favours.
But, O Heavens, how unfortunately it hapned! The Marquess came in this
dangerous moment; and ’twas not without the greatest fury he saw the
Liberty Don Lewis took with his Wife. At the noise he had made in
entring, she had turn’d her Eyes towards the Door, and seeing her
Husband enter, whom she thought she had already in her arms, it is
impossible to represent her Affliction and Astonishment.
‘Don Lewis amaz’d at this Accident, flatter’d himself, that perhaps he
was not known: He past immediately into the Gallery, and finding a
Window was opened into the Garden, he threw himself out of it, and
immediately past through a Back-door. The Marquess pursued him, without
being able to overtake him: In returning the same way he came, he
unhappily found the Marchioness’s Picture, which Don Lewis had dropt as
he ran; he immediately made most cruel Reflections hereupon: This
Picture of his Wife, which Don Lewis had let fall, and the sight of her
embracing him, all this made him no longer doubt of his Wives Falshood:
“I am betray’d,” Cry’d he, “by her whom I loved dearer than my own Life:
Was there ever a more Unhappy Man in the World?” In ending these Words,
he returned to his Wives Chamber. She immediately threw herself at his
Feet, and melting into Tears, would have justify’d herself, and make
known to him her Innocency; but the Spirit of Jealousie had so fully
possest him, that he violently represt her: He harkned only to the
Transports of his Rage and Despair, and turning away his Eyes, that he
might not see so lovely an Object, he had the Barbarity to strike his
Dagger into the Breast of the most Beautiful and most Vertuous Woman in
the World. She offered herself to be slaughtered as an innocent
Sacrifice, and her Soul issued out in a stream of Blood.
“O God,” cryed I, “O Imprudent Don Lewis! Why did you leave this
Charming Lady to the Fury of an Amorous Husband, transported with
Jealousie! You might have snatch’d her out of his cruel Hands.” “Alas,
Madam,” replied this Gentleman, “he know not what he did; for what would
he have done at another time to have prevented such a Misfortune.”