About 150 years since, there was in France one Captain Coney, a gallant
gentleman of ancient extraction, and Governor of Coney Castle. He fell in
love with a young gentlewoman and courted her for his wife. There was
reciprocal love between them, but her parents, understanding it, by way of
prevention, shuffled up a forced match between her and one Mr. Fayel, who
was heir to a great estate. Hereupon Captain Coney quitted France in
discontent, and went to the wars in Hungary against the Turks, where he
received a mortal wound, near Buda. Being carried to his quarters he
languished four days, but a little before his death, he spoke to an old
servant, of whose fidelity and truth he had ample experience, and told him
he had a great business to trust him with, which he conjured him to
perform; that after his death he should cause his body to be opened, take
out his heart, put it in an earthen pot, and bake it to a powder, then put
the powder into a handsome box, with the bracelet of hair he had long worn
about his left wrist, (which was a lock of Madame Fayel's hair,) and put
it amongst the powder with a little note he had written to her with his
own blood, and after he had given him the rites of burial, to make all
speed to France and deliver the box to Madame Fayel. The old servant did
as his master had commanded him, and so went to France; and coming one day
to Monsieur Fayel's house, he suddenly met him with one of his servants,
who knowing him to be Captain Coney's servant, examined him; and finding
him timorous, and to falter in his speech, he searched him, and found the
said box in his pocket, with the note which expressed what it contained;
then he dismissed the bearer, with injunction that he should come no more
thither. Monsieur Fayel, going in, sent for his cook, and delivered him
the powder, charging him to make a well relished dish of it, without
losing a jot, for it was a very costly thing, and enjoined him to bring it
in himself, after the last course at supper. The cook bringing in his dish
accordingly, Monsieur Fayel commanded all to leave the room, and began a
serious discourse with his wife. That ever since he had married her, he
observed she was always melancholy, and he feared she was inclining to
consumption, wherefore he had provided a very precious cordial, which he
was well assured would cure her, and for that reason obliged her to eat up
the whole dish: she afterwards much importuned him to know what it was,
when he told her she had eaten Coney's heart, and drew the box out of his
pocket, and showed her the note and the bracelet. After a sudden shout of
joy, she with a deep-fetched sigh said, "This is a precious cordial
indeed," and so licked the dish, adding, "it is so precious that it is a
pity ever to eat anything after it." She then went to bed, where in the
morning she was found dead.