Entreaty, gave him a short Vision of her Face which, then dress’d in an
obliging smile, caused another fit of Transport, which lasted till she
was gone out of Sight. Aurelian gathered up his Spirits, and walked
slowly towards his Lodging, never remembring that he had lost
Hippolito, till upon turning the Corner of a Street, he heard a noise
of Fighting; and coming near, saw a Man make a vigorous Defence against
two, who pressed violently upon him. He then thought of Hippolito, and
fancying he saw the glimmering of Diamond Buttons, such as Hippolito
had upon the Sleeves of his Habit, immediately drew to his Assistance;
and with that Eagerness and Resolution, that the Assailants, finding
their unmanly odds defeated, took to their Heels. The Person rescued by
the Generous Help of Aurelian, came toward him; but as he would have
stoop’d to have saluted him, dropp’d, fainting at his feet. Aurelian,
now he was so near him, perceiv’d plainly Hippolito’s Habit, and step’d
hastily to take him up. Just as some of the Guards (who were going the
Rounds, apprehensive of such Disorders in an Universal Merriment) came
up to him with Lights, and had taken Prisoners the Two Men, whom they
met with their Sword’s drawn; when looking in the Face of the Wounded
Man, he found it was not Hippolito, but his Governour Claudio, in the
Habit he had worn at the Ball. He was extreamly surpriz’d, as were the
Prisoners, who confess’d their Design to have been upon Lorenzo;
grounding their Mistake upon the Habit which was known to have been
his. They were Two Men who formerly had been Servants to him, whom
Lorenzo had unfortunately slain.
They made a shift to bring Claudio to himself; and part of the Guard
carrying off the Prisoners, whom Aurelian desired they would secure,
the rest accompanied him bearing Claudio in their Arms to his Lodging.
He had not patience to forbear asking for Hippolito by the Way; whom
Claudio assured him, he had left safe in his Chamber, above Two Hours
since. That his coming Home so long before the Divertisements were
ended, and Undressing himself, had given him the Unhappy Curiosity, to
put on his Habit, and go to the Pallace; in his Return from whence, he
was set upon in the Manner he found him, which if he recovered, he must
own his Life indebted to his timely Assistance.
Being come to the House, they carried him to his Bed, and having sent
for Surgeons Aurelian rewarded and dismissed the Guard. He stay’d the
dressing of Claudio’s Wounds, which were many, though they hop’d none
Mortal: and leaving him to his Rest, went to give Hippolito an Account
of what had happened, whom he found with a Table before him, leaning
upon both his Elbows, his Face covered with his Hands, and so
motionless, that Aurelian concluded he was asleep; seeing several
Papers lie before him, half written and blotted out again, he thought
to steal softly to the Table, and discover what he had been employed
about. Just as he reach’d forth his Hand to take up one of the Papers,
Hippolito started up so on the suddain, as surpriz’d Aurelian and made
him leap back; Hippolito, on the other hand, not supposing that any
Body had been near him, was so disordered with the Appearance of a Man
at his Elbow, (whom his Amazement did not permit him to distinguish)
that he leap’d hastily to his Sword, and in turning him about,
overthrew the Stand and Candles. Here were they both left in the Dark,
Hippolito groping about with his Sword, and thrusting at every Chair
that he felt oppose him. Aurelian was scarce come to himself, when
thinking to step back toward the Door that he might inform his Friend
of his Mistake, without exposing himself to his blind Fury; Hippolito
heard him stir, and made a full thrust with such Violence, that the
Hilt of the Sword meeting with Aurelian’s Breast beat him down, and
Hippolito a top of him, as a Servant alarm’d with the noise, came into
the Chamber with a Light. The Fellow trembled, and thought they were
both Dead, till Hippolito raising himself, to see whom he had got under
him, swoon’d away upon the discovery of his Friend. But such was the
extraordinary Care of Providence in directing the Sword, that it only
past under his Arm, giving no Wound to Aurelian, but a little Bruise
between his Shoulder and Breast with the Hilt. He got up, scarce
recovered of his Fright, and by the help of the Servant; laid Hippolito
upon the Bed; who when he was come to himself could hardly be
perswaded, that his Friend was before him and alive, till he shew’d him
his Breast, where was nothing of a Wound. Hippolito begg’d his Pardon a
Thousand Times, and curs’d himself as often, who was so near to
committing the most Execrable Act of Amicide.
They dismiss’d the Fellow, and with many Embraces, congratulated their
fortunate Delivery from the Mischief which came so near them, each
blaming himself as the Occasion: Aurelian accusing his own
unadvisedness in stealing upon Hippolito; Hippolito blaming his own
temerity and weakness, in being so easily frighted to Disorder; and
last of all, his blindness, in not knowing his dearest Friend. But
there he gave a Sigh, and passionately taking Aurelian by the Hand,
cry’d, Ah! my Friend, Love is indeed blind, when it would not suffer me
to see you—There arose another Sigh; a Sympathy seiz’d Aurelian
immediately: (For, by the Way, sighing is as catching among Lovers, as
yawning among the Vulgar.) Beside hearing the Name of Love, made him
fetch such a Sigh, that Hippolito’s were but Fly-blows in Comparison,
that was answered with all the Might Hippolito had, Aurelian ply’d him
close till they were both out of Breath.
Thus not a Word pass’d, though each wondred why the t’other sigh’d, at
last concluded it to be only Complaisance to one another.
Aurelian broke the Silence, by telling him the Misfortune of his
Governour. Hippolito rejoic’d as at the luckiest Accident which could
have befall’n him. Aurelian wondred at his unseasonable Mirth, and
demanded the Cause of it; he answer’d, It would necessitate his longer
Stay in Florence, and for ought he knew be the Means of bringing a
happy Period to his Amour.
His Friend thought him to be little better than a Madman, when he
perceiv’d him of a suddain snatch out of his Bosom a Handkerchief,
which having kiss’d with a great deal of Ardour, he took Aurelian by
the Hand, and smiling at the Surprize he saw him in;
‘Your Florentine Cupid is certainly (said he) ‘the most Expert in the
World. I have since I saw you beheld the most Beautiful of Women. I am
faln desperately in Love with her, and those Papers which you see so
blotted and scattered, are but so many Essays which I have made to the
Declaration of my Passion. And this Handkerchief which I so zealously
Caress, is the Inestimable Token which I have to make my self known to
her. ‘O Leonora! (continued he) ‘how hast thou stamp’d thine Image on
my Soul! How much dearer am I to my self, since I have had thy Heavenly
Form in keeping! Now, my Aurelian, I am worthy thee; my exalted Love
has Dignified me, and rais’d me far above thy poor former Despicable
Hippolito.
Aurelian seeing the Rapture he was in, thought it in vain to expect a
settled Relation of the Adventure, so was reaching to the Table for
some of the Papers, but Hippolito told him, If he would have a little
patience he would acquaint him with the whole Matter; and thereupon
told him Word for Word how he was mistaken for Lorenzo, and his
Management of himself. Aurelian commended his Prudence, in not
discovering himself; and told him, If he could spare so much time from
the Contemplation of his Mistress, he would inform him of an Adventure,
though not so Accidental, yet of as great Concern to his own future
Happiness. So related all that had happened to him with his Beautiful
Incognita.
Having ended the Story, they began to consider of the Means they were
to use toward a Review of their Mistresses. Aurelian was Confounded at
the Difficulty he conceived on his Part. He understood from Hippolito’s
Adventure, that his Father knew of his being in Town, whom he must
unavoidably Disoblige if he yet concealed himself, and Disobey if he
came into his Sight; for he had already entertain’d an Aversion for
Juliana, in apprehension of her being Imposed on him. His Incognita was
rooted in his Heart, yet could he not Comfort himself with any Hopes
when he should see her: He knew not where she lived, and she had made
him no Promise of a second Conference. Then did he repent his
inconsiderate Choice, in preferring the momentary Vision of her Face,
to a certain Intelligence of her Person. Every thought that succeeded
distracted him, and all the Hopes he could presume upon, were within
compass of the Two Days Merriment yet to come; for which Space he hop’d
he might excuse his remaining conceal’d to his Father.
Hippolito on the other side (though Aurelian thought him in a much
better Way) was no less afflicted for himself. The Difficulties which
he saw in his Friend’s Circumstances, put him upon finding out a great
many more in his own, than really there were. But what terrified him
most of all, was his being an utter Stranger to Leonora; she had not
the least knowledge of him but through mistake, and consequently could
form no Idea of him to his Advantage. He look’d upon it as an unlucky
thought in Aurelian to take upon him his Name, since possibly the Two
Ladies were acquainted, and should they communicate to each other their
Adventures; they might both reasonably suffer in their Opinions, and be
thought guilty of Falshood, since it would appear to them as One Person
pretending to Two. Aurelian told him, there was but one Remedy for
that, which was for Hippolito, in the same Manner that he had done, to
make use of his Name, when he writ to Leonora, and use what arguments
he could to perswade her to Secrecy, least his Father should know of
the Reason which kept him concealed in Town. And it was likely, though
perhaps she might not immediately entertain his Passion; yet she would
out of Generosity conceal, what was hidden only for her sake.
Well this was concluded on, after a great many other Reasons used on
either Side, in favour of the Contrivance; they at last argued
themselves into a Belief, that Fortune had befriended them with a
better Plot, than their regular Thinking could have contriv’d. So soon
had they convinc’d themselves, in what they were willing to believe.
Aurelian laid himself down to rest, that is, upon the Bed; for he was a
better Lover than to pretend to sleep that Night, while Hippolito set
himself again to frame his Letter design’d for Leonora. He writ
several, at last pitched upon one, and very probably the worst, as you
may guess when you read it in its proper Place.
It was break of Day when the Servant, who had been employed all the
foregoing Day in procuring Accoutrements for the Two Cavaliers, to
appear in at the Tilting, came into the Room, and told them all the
Young Gentlemen in the Town were trying their Equipage, and preparing
to be early in the Lists. They made themselves ready with all
Expedition at the Alarm: and Hippolito having made a Visit to his
Governour, dispatch’d a Messenger with the Letter and Directions to
Leonora. At the Signal agreed upon the Casement was opened and a String
let down, to which the Bearer having fastned the Letter, saw it drawn
up, and returned. It were a vain attempt to describe Leonora’s
Surprize, when she read the Superscription.—The Unfortunate Aurelian,
to the Beautiful Leonora—After she was a little recovered from her
Amaze, she recollected to her self all the Passages between her and her
supposed Cousin, and immediately concluded him to be Aurelian. Then
several little Circumstances which she thought might have been
sufficient to have convinced her, represented themselves to her; and
she was in a strange Uneasiness to think of her free Carriage to a
Stranger.
She was once in a Mind to have burn’d the Letter, or to have stay’d for
an Opportunity to send it again. But she was a Woman, and her Curiosity
opposed it self to all thoughts of that Nature: at length with a firm
Resolution, she opened it, and found Word for Word, what is
underwritten.
The Letter.
MADAM,
If your fair Eyes, upon the breaking up of this, meet with somewhat too
quick a Surprize, make thence, I beseech you, some reflection upon the
Condition I must needs have been in, at the suddain Appearance of that
Sun of Beauty, which at once shone so full upon my soul. I could not
immediately disengage my self from that Maze of Charms, to let you know
how unworthy a Captive your Eyes had made through mistake. Sure, Madam,
you cannot but remember my Disorder, of which your Innocent (Innocent,
though perhaps to me Fatal) Error made a Charitable (but wide)
Construction. Your Tongue pursued the Victory of your Eyes, and you did
not give me time to rally my poor Disordered Senses, so as to make a
tolerable Retreat. Pardon, Madam, the Continuation of the Deceipt, and
call it not so, that I appear’d to be other than my self; for Heaven
knows I was not then my self, nor am I now my own. You told me
something that concern’d me nearly, as to a Marriage my Father design’d
me, and much more nearly in being told by you. For Heaven’s sake,
disclose not to any Body your Knowledge of me, that I may not be forced
to an immediate Act of Disobedience; for if my future Services and
inviolate Love, cannot recommend me to your Favour, I shall find more
comfort in the cold Embraces of a Grave, than in the Arms of the never
so much admired (but by me dreaded) Juliana. Think, Madam, of those
severe Circumstances I lie under; and withal I beg you, think it is in
your Power, and only in your Power, to make them happy as my Wishes, or
much more miserable than I am able to imagine. That dear, inestimable
(though undesign’d) Favour which I receiv’d from you, shall this Day
distinguish me from the Crowd of your Admirers; that which I really
applied to my inward bleeding Wound, the welcom Wound which you have
made, and which, unless from you, does wish no Cure; then pardon and
have pity on, O Adored Leonora, him, who is your’s by Creation as he is
Heaven’s, though never so unworthy. Have pity on
Your
Aurelian.
She read the Letter over and over, then flung it by, then read it
again; the Novelty of the Adventure made her repeat her Curiosity, and
take more than ordinary Pains to understand it. At last her Familiarity
with the Expressions grew to an Intimacy, and what she at first
permitted she now began to like. She thought there was something in it
a little more serious, than to be barely Gallantry. She wondred at her
own Blindness, and fancy’d she could remember something of a more
becoming Air in the Stranger than was usual to Lorenzo. This thought
was parent to another of the same kind, till a long Chain successively
had Birth, and every one somewhat more than other, in Favour of the
supposed Aurelian. She reflected upon his Discretion, in deferring the
Discovery of himself, till a little time had, as it were, weaned her
from her perswasion, and by removing her farther from her Mistake, had
prepared her for a full and determinate Convincement. She thought his
Behaviour, in personating a Sick Man so readily, upon the first hint
was not amiss, and smil’d to think of his Excuse to procure her
Handkerchief; and last of all, his sifting out the Means to write to
her, which he had done with that Modesty and Respect, she could not
tell how to find fault with it.
She had proceeded thus far in a maze of Thought, when she started to
find her self so lost to her Reason, and would have trod back again
that path of deluding Fancy; accusing her self of Fondness, and
inconsiderate Easiness, in giving Credit to the Letter of a Person
whose Face she never saw, and whose first Acquaintance with her was a
Treachery, and he who could so readily deliver his Tongue of a Lye upon
a Surprize, was scarce to be trusted when he had sufficient Time
allow’d him to beget a Fiction, and Means to perfect the Birth.
How did she know this to be Aurelian, if he were? Nay farther, put it
to the Extremity, What if she should upon farther Conversation with him
proceed to Love him? What Hopes were there for her? Or how could she
consent to Marry a Man already Destined for another Woman? nay, a Woman
that was her Friend, whose Marrying with him was to compleat the happy
Reconciliation of Two Noble Families, and which might prevent the
Effusion of much Blood likely to be shed in that Quarrel: Besides, she
should incurr share of the Guilt, which he would draw upon him by
Disobedience to his Father, whom she was sure would not be consenting
to it.
’Tis strange now, but all Accounts agree, that just here Leonora, who
had run like a violent Stream against Aurelian hitherto, now retorted
with as much precipitation in his Favour. I could never get any Body to
give me a satisfactory reason, for her suddain and dextrous Change of
Opinion just at that stop, which made me conclude she could not help
it; and that Nature boil’d over in her at that time when it had so fair
an Opportunity to show it self: For Leonora it seems was a Woman
Beautiful, and otherwise of an excellent Disposition; but in the Bottom
a very Woman. This last Objection, this Opportunity of perswading Man
to Disobedience, determined the Matter in Favour of Aurelian, more than
all his Excellencies and Qualifications, take him as Aurelian, or
Hippolito, or both together.
Well, the Spirit of Contradiction and of Eve was strong in her; and she
was in a fair Way to Love Aurelian, for she lik’d him already; that it
was Aurelian she no longer doubted, for had it been a Villain, who had
only taken his Name upon him for any ill Designs, he would never have
slip’d so favourable an Opportunity as when they were alone and in the
Night coming through the Garden and broad Space before the Piazza. In
short, thus much she resolv’d, at least to conceal the Knowledge she
had of him, as he had entreated her in his Letter, and to make
particular Remarks of his Behaviour that Day in the Lists, which should
it happen to Charm her with an absolute liking of his Person, she
resolv’d to dress her self to the best Advantage, and mustering up all
her Graces, out of pure Revenge to kill him down right.
I would not have the Reader now be impertinent, and look upon this to
be force, or a whim of the Author’s, that a Woman should proceed so far
in her Approbation of a Man whom she never saw, that it is impossible,
therefore ridiculous to suppose it. Let me tell such a Critick, that he
knows nothing of the Sex, if he does not know that Woman may be taken
with the Character and Description of a Man, when general and
extraordinary, that she may be prepossess’d with an agreeable Idea of
his Person and Conversation; and though she cannot imagine his real
Features, or manner of Wit, yet she has a general Notion of what is
call’d a fine Gentleman, and is prepar’d to like such a one who does
not disagree with that Character. Aurelian, as he bore a very fair
Character, so was he extreamly deserving to make it good, which
otherways might have been to his prejudice; for oftentimes, through an
imprudent Indulgence to our Friends merit, we give so large a
Description of his excellencies, that People make more room in their
Expectation, than the Intrinsick worth of the Man will fill, which
renders him so much the more despicable as there is emptyness to spare.
’Tis certain, though the Women seldom find that out; for though they do
not see so much in a Man as was promised, yet they will be so kind to
imagine he has some hidden excellencies; which time may discover to
them, so are content to allow, him a considerable share of their
esteem, and take him into Favour upon Tick. Aurelian as he had good
Credit, so he had a good Stock to support it, and his Person was a good
promising Security for the payment of any Obligation he could lie under
to the Fair Sex. Hippolito, who at this time was our Aurelian, did not
at all lessen him in appearing for him: So that although Leonora was
indeed mistaken, she could not be said to be much in the wrong. I could
find in my Heart to beg the Reader’s pardon for this Digression, if I
thought he would be sensible of the Civility; for I promise him, I do
not intend to do it again throughout the Story, though I make never so
many, and though he take them never so ill. But because I began this
upon a bare Supposition of his Impertinence, which might be somewhat
impertinent in me to suppose, I do, and hope to make him amends by
telling him, that by the time Leonora was dress’d, several Ladies of
her acquaintance came to accompany her to the place designed for the
Tilting, where we will leave them drinking Chocholate till ’tis time
for them to go.
Our Cavaliers had by good Fortune provided themselves of two curious
Suits of light Armour, finely enammelled and gilt. Hippolito had sent
to Poggio Imperiale for a couple of fine led Horses which he had left
there with the rest of his Train at his entrance into Florence. Mounted
on these and every way well Equipt, they took their way, attended only
by two Lacqueys, toward the Church di Santa Croce, before which they
were to perform their Exercises of Chivalry. Hippolito wore upon his
Helm a large Plume of Crimson Feathers, in the midst of which was
artificially placed Leonora’s Handkerchief. His Armour was gilt, and
enammell’d with Green and Crimson. Aurelian was not so happy as to wear
any token to recommend him to the notice of his Mistress, so had only a
Plume of Sky-colour and White Feathers, suitable to his Armour, which
was Silver enammelled with Azure. I shall not describe the Habits of
any other Cavaliers, or of the Ladies; let it suffice to tell the
Reader they were all very Fine and very Glorious, and let him dress
them in what is most agreeable to his own Fancy.
Our Gallants entred the Lists, and having made their Obeysance to his
Highness, turned round to salute and view the Company. The Scaffold was
circular, so that there was no end of the Delightful Prospect. It
seem’d a Glory of Beauty which shone around the admiring Beholders. Our
Lovers soon perceived the Stars which were to Rule their Destiny, which
sparkled a lustre beyond all the inferiour Constellations, and seem’d
like two Suns to distribute Light to all the Planets in that Heavenly
Sphere. Leonora knew her Slave by his Badge and blushed till the Lilies
and Roses in her cheeks had resemblance to the Plume of Crimson and
White Handkerchief in Hippolito’s Crest. He made her a low bow, and
reined his Horse back with an extraordinary Grace, into a respectful
retreat. Aurelian saw his Angel, his beautiful Incognita, and had no
other way to make himself known to her, but by saluting and bowing to
her after the Spanish mode; she guess’d him by it to be her new Servant
Hippolito, and signified her apprehension, by making him a more
particular and obliging return, than to any of the Cavaliers who had
saluted her before.