Don _Henrique_ was a Person of great Birth, of a great Estate, of a
Bravery equal to either, of a most generous Education, but of more
Passion than Reason: He was besides of an opener and freer Temper than
generally his Countrymen are (I mean, the _Spaniards_) and always
engag'd in some Love-Intrigue or other.
One Night as he was retreating from one of those Engagements, Don
_Sebastian_, whose Sister he had abus'd with a Promise of Marriage, set
upon him at the Corner of a Street, in _Madrid_, and by the Help of
three of his Friends, design'd to have dispatch'd him on a doubtful
Embassy to the Almighty Monarch: But he receiv'd their first
Instructions with better Address than they expected, and dismiss'd his
Envoy first, killing one of Don _Sebastian's_ Friends. Which so enrag'd
the injur'd Brother, that his Strength and Resolution seem'd to be
redoubled, and so animated his two surviving Companions, that
(doubtless) they had gain'd a dishonourable Victory, had not Don
_Antonio_ accidentally come in to the Rescue; who after a short Dispute,
kill'd one of the two who attack'd him only; whilst Don _Henrique_, with
the greatest Difficulty, defended his Life, for some Moments, against
_Sebastian_, whose Rage depriv'd him of Strength, and gave his Adversary
the unwish'd Advantage of his seeming Death, tho' not without
bequeathing some bloody Legacies to Don _Henrique_. _Antonio_ had
receiv'd but one slight Wound in the left Arm, and his surviving
Antagonist none; who however thought it not adviseable to begin a fresh
Dispute against two, of whose Courage he had but too fatal a Proof, tho'
one of 'em was sufficiently disabled. The Conquerors, on the other Side,
politickly retreated, and quitting the Field to the Conquer'd, left the
Living to bury the Dead, if he could, or thought convenient.
As they were marching off, Don _Antonio_, who all this while knew not
whose Life he had so happily preserv'd, told his Companion in Arms, that
he thought it indispensibly necessary that he should quarter with him
that Night, for his further Preservation. To which he prudently
consented, and went, with no little Uneasiness, to his Lodgings; where
he surpriz'd _Antonio_ with the Sight of his dearest Friend. For they
had certainly the nearest Sympathy in all their Thoughts, that ever made
two brave Men unhappy: And, undoubtedly, nothing but Death, or more
fatal Love, could have divided them. However, at present, they were
united and secure.
In the mean time, Don _Sebastian's_ Friend was just going to call Help
to carry off the Bodies, as the ---- came by; who seeing three Men lie
dead, seiz'd the fourth; who as he was about to justify himself, by
discovering one of the Authors of so much Blood-shed, was interrupted by
a Groan from his supposed dead Friend Don _Sebastian_; whom, after a
brief Account of some Part of the Matter, and the Knowledge of his
Quality, they took up, and carried to his House; where, within a few
Days, he was recovered past the Fear of Death. All this While _Henrique_
and _Antonio_ durst not appear, so much as by Night; nor could be found,
tho' diligent and daily Search was made after the first; but upon Don
_Sebastian's_ Recovery, the Search ceasing, they took the Advantage of
the Night, and, in Disguise, retreated to _Seville_. 'Twas there they
thought themselves most secure, where indeed they were in the greatest
Danger; for tho' (haply) they might there have escap'd the murderous
Attempt of Don _Sebastian_, and his Friends, yet they could not there
avoid the malicious Influence of their Stars.
This City gave Birth to _Antonio_, and to the Cause of his greatest
Misfortunes, as well as of his Death. Dona _Ardelia_ was born there,
a Miracle of Beauty and Falshood. 'Twas more than a Year since Don
_Antonio_ had first seen and loved her. For 'twas impossible any Man
should do one without the other. He had had the unkind Opportunity of
speaking and conveying a Billet to her at Church; and to his greater
Misfortune, the next Time he found her there, he met with too Kind a
Return both from her Eyes and from her Hand, which privately slipt a
Paper into his; in which he found abundantly more than he expected,
directing him in that, how he should proceed, in order to carry her off
from her Father with the least Danger he could look for in such an
Attempt; since it would have been vain and fruitless to have asked her
of her Father, because their Families had been at Enmity for several
Years; tho' _Antonio_ was as well descended as she, and had as ample a
Fortune; nor was his Person, according to his Sex, any way inferior to
her's; and certainly, the Beauties of his Mind were more excellent,
especially if it be an Excellence to be constant.
He had made several Attempts to take Possession of her; but all prov'd
ineffectual; however, he had the good Fortune not to be known, tho' once
or twice he narrowly escap'd with Life, bearing off his Wounds with
Difficulty.--(Alas, that the Wounds of Love should cause those of Hate!)
Upon which she was strictly confin'd to one Room, whose only Window was
towards the Garden, and that too was grated with Iron; and, once a
Month, when she went to Church, she was constantly and carefully
attended by her Father, and a Mother-in-Law, worse than a _Duegna_.
Under this miserable Confinement _Antonio_ understood she still
continued, at his Return to _Seville_, with Don _Henrique_, whom he
acquainted with his invincible Passion for her; lamenting the Severity
of her present Circumstances, that admitted of no Prospect of Relief;
which caus'd a generous Concern in Don _Henrique_, both for the
Sufferings of his Friend, and of the Lady. He proposed several Ways to
Don _Antonio_, for the Release of the fair Prisoner; but none of them
was thought practicable, or at least likely to succeed. But _Antonio_,
who (you may believe) was then more nearly engag'd, bethought himself of
an Expedient that would undoubtedly reward their Endeavours. 'Twas, that
Don _Henrique_, who was very well acquainted with _Ardelia's_ Father,
should make him a Visit, with Pretence of begging his Consent and
Admission to make his Addresses to his Daughter; which, in all
Probability, he could not refuse to Don _Henrique's_ Quality and Estate;
and then this Freedom of Access to her would give him the Opportunity of
delivering the Lady to his Friend. This was thought so reasonable, that
the very next Day it was put in Practice; and with so good Success, that
Don _Henrique_ was received by the Father of _Ardelia_ with the greatest
and most respectful Ceremony imaginable: And when he made the Proposal
to him of marrying his Daughter, it was embraced with a visible
Satisfaction and Joy in the Air of his Face. This their first
Conversation ended with all imaginable Content on both Sides; Don
_Henrique_ being invited by the Father to Dinner the next Day, when Dona
_Ardelia_ was to be present; who, at that Time, was said to be
indispos'd, (as 'tis very probable she was, with so close an
Imprisonment.) _Henrique_ returned to _Antonio_, and made him happy with
the Account of his Reception; which could not but have terminated in the
perfect Felicity of _Antonio_, had his Fate been just to the Merits of
his Love. The Day and Hour came which brought _Henrique_, with a private
Commission from his Friend, to _Ardelia_. He saw her;--(ah! would he had
only seen her veil'd!) and, with the first Opportunity, gave her the
Letter, which held so much Love, and so much Truth, as ought to have
preserved him in the Empire of her Heart. It contained, besides,
a Discovery of his whole Design upon her Father, for the compleating of
their Happiness; which nothing then could obstruct but her self. But
_Henrique_ had seen her; he had gaz'd, and swallowed all her Beauties at
his Eyes. How greedily his Soul drank the strong Poison in! But yet his
Honour and his Friendship were strong as ever, and bravely fought
against the Usurper Love, and got a noble Victory; at least he thought
and wish'd so. With this, and a short Answer to his Letter, _Henrique_
return'd to the longing _Antonio_; who, receiving the Paper with the
greatest Devotion, and kissing it with the greatest Zeal, open'd and
read these Words to himself:
_Don +Antonio+,_
_You have, at last, made Use of the best and only Expedient for my
Enlargement; for which I thank you, since I know it is purely the
Effect of your Love. Your Agent has a mighty Influence on my Father:
And you may assure yourself, that as you have advis'd and desir'd
me, he shall have no less on me, who am_
Your's entirely,
And only your's,
_ARDELIA_.
Having respectfully and tenderly kiss'd the Name, he could not chuse but
shew the _Billet_ to his Friend; who reading that Part of it which
concern'd himself, started and blush'd: Which _Antonio_ observing, was
curious to know the Cause of it. _Henrique_ told him, That he was
surpriz'd to find her express so little Love, after so long an Absence.
To which his Friend reply'd for her, That, doubtless, she had not Time
enough to attempt so great a Matter as a perfect Account of her Love;
and added, that it was Confirmation enough to him of its Continuance,
since she subscrib'd her self his entirely, and only his.--How blind is
Love! Don _Henrique_ knew how to make it bear another Meaning; which,
however, he had the Discretion to conceal. _Antonio_, who was as real in
his Friendship, as constant in his Love, ask'd him what he thought of
her Beauty? To which the other answer'd, that he thought it irresistable
to any, but to a Soul preposses'd, and nobly fortify'd with a perfect
Friendship:--Such as is thine, my _Henrique_, (added _Antonio_;) yet as
sincere and perfect as that is, I know you must, nay, I know you do love
her. As I ought to do, (reply'd _Henrique_.) Yes, yes, (return'd his
Friend) it must be so; otherwise the Sympathy which unites our Souls
would be wanting, and consequently our Friendship were in a State of
Imperfection. How industriously you would argue me into a Crime, that
would tear and destroy the Foundation of the strongest Ties of Truth and
Honour! (said _Henrique_.) But (he continu'd) I hope within a few Days,
to put it out of my Power to be guilty of so great a Sacrilege. I can't
determine (said _Antonio_) if I knew that you lov'd one another, whether
I could easier part with my Friend, or my Mistress. Tho' what you say,
is highly generous, (reply'd _Henrique_) yet give me Leave to urge, that
it looks like a Trial of Friendship, and argues you inclinable to
Jealousy: But, pardon me, I know it to be sincerely meant by you; and
must therefore own, that 'tis the best, because 'tis the noblest Way of
securing both your Friend and Mistress. I need not make use of any Arts
to secure me of either, (reply'd _Antonio_) but expect to enjoy 'em both
in a little Time.
_Henrique_, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this Nature,
diverted it, by reflecting on what had pass'd at _Madrid_, between them
two and Don _Sebastian_ and his Friends; which caus'd _Antonio_ to
bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos'd his Friend, by
appearing daily, tho' in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don _Sebastian_ would
pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These Thoughts put him upon
desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten the Performance of his
Attempt; and accordingly, each Day Don _Henrique_ brought _Antonio_
nearer the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into
the lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which
_Antonio_ expected to be bless'd in her Love, Don _Henrique_ had a long
and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then with her
alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had for some
Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don _Henrique_ in much
Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes stedfastly
fix'd on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he could see
nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege of her
Sex, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:--Has any Thing
happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder which
is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your continued
Silence? Speak, I beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I have any Way
unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed he) my Friendship is
now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery; for To-morrow I
must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying the generous
Confidence which your noble Father has plac'd in me: To-morrow (added
he, with a piteous Sigh) I must deliver you into the Hands of one whom
your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing myself the Honour of
becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days more.--But--I will consider
and remind myself, that I give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my
Friend, that loves you better than his Life, which he has often expos'd
for your Sake; and what is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love
more than any Consideration on Earth.--And must this be done? (she
ask'd.) Is it inevitable as Fate?--Fix'd as the Laws of Nature, Madam,
(reply'd he) don't you find the Necessity of it, _Ardelia_? (continued
he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it? Think, you are
going to your dear _Antonio_, who alone can merit you, and whom only you
can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I should yet be
unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and infinitely
more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don _Henrique_
(continued she) I could with greater Satisfaction return to my miserable
Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace of your Mind, or
occasion one Moment's Interruption of your Quiet.--Would to Heaven you
did not, (sigh'd he to himself.) Then addressing his Words more
distinctly to her, cry'd he, Ah, cruel! ah, unjust _Ardelia_! these
Words belong to none but _Antonio_; why then would you endeavour to
persuade me, that I do, or even can merit the Tenderness of such an
Expression?--Have a Care! (pursued he) have a Care, _Ardelia_! your
outward Beauties are too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have
such a Sweetness that they attract the very Soul that is not strongly
prepossessed with the noblest Friendship, and the highest Principles of
Honour: Why then, alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents?
Why--ah, Don _Henrique_! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so
charming in your Person, so great in your Friendship, and so illustrious
in your Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit,
continually fill my Ears and Thoughts with noble Characters and glorious
Ideas, which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable
Original!--But--(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don _Henrique_, why
will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your Alliance, and me of
those glorious Hopes with which you had bless'd my Soul, by casting me
away from you to _Antonio_!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting) what said you,
Madam? What did _Ardelia_ say? That I had bless'd your Soul with Hopes!
That I would cast you away to _Antonio_!--Can they who safely arrive in
their wish'd-for Port, be said to be shipwreck'd? Or, can an abject
indigent Wretch make a King?--These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I
must not think to expound 'em. No, (said she) let it alone, Don
_Henrique_; I'll ease you of that Trouble, and tell you plainly that I
love you. Ah! (cry'd he) now all my Fears are come upon me!--How! (ask'd
she) were you afraid I should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then?
Yes, when misplac'd (reply'd he;) but 'twas your Falshood that I fear'd:
Your Love was what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my
Life, nay, even of my future Happiness, I fear, had you not been
engag'd: strongly oblig'd to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and
Vows, as well as by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For
which (said she) I do not hate him, tho' his Father kill'd my Uncle:
Nay, perhaps (continu'd she) I have a Friendship for him, but no more.
No more, said you, Madam? (cry'd he;)--but tell me, did you never love
him? Indeed, I did, (reply'd she;) but the Sight of you has better
instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Passion
for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue
your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It
must not be (return'd Don _Henrique_) my Honour, my Friendship forbids
it. No (she return'd) your Honour requires it; and if your Friendship
opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid Foundation. Female
Sophistry! (cry'd _Henrique_;) but you need no Art nor Artifice,
_Ardelia_, to make me love you: Love you! (pursu'd he:) By that bright
Sun, the Light and Heat of all the World, you are my only Light and
Heat--Oh, Friendship! Sacred Friendship, now assist me!--[Here for a
Time he paus'd, and then afresh proceeded thus,]--You told me, or my
Ears deceiv'd me, that you lov'd me, _Ardelia_. I did, she reply'd; and
that I do love you, is as true as that I told you so. 'Tis well;--But
would it were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?--Why,
I could wish I did not love you, _Ardelia_! But that were impossible--At
least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then (he went on) to shew you that
I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any regard to
my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don _Antonio_; and as a Proof of
your Love to me, I expect your ready Consent to it. To let you see, Don
_Henrique_, how perfectly and tenderly I love you, I will be sacrificed
To-morrow to Don _Antonio_, and to your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest
Obligation!--cry'd _Henrique_: To-morrow then, as I have told your
Father, I am to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who
dares not appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and
therefore cannot be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I could
not but think it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make
him happy in the Sight of my beautiful Choice, e'er yet she be my Bride.
I hope (said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compassion; and
that at last, e'er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering,
I mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old _Roman_ Ceremony) that
you or some other pitying Angel, will snatch me from the Altar. Ah, no
more, _Ardelia_! say no more (cry'd he) we must be cruel, to be just to
our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and they walked into the House,
where they found the good old Gentleman and his Lady, with whom he
stay'd till about an Hour after Supper, when he returned to his Friend
with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]
_Antonio_ was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching Day;
which tho' it brought Don _Henrique_ and his dear _Ardelia_ to him,
about five o'Clock in the Evening, yet at the same Time brought his last
and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a She Relation's of his,
above three Miles from _Seville_, which was the Place assigned for their
fatal Interview. He saw her, I say; but ah! how strange! how altered
from the dear, kind _Ardelia_ she was when last he left her! 'Tis true,
he flew to her with Arms expanded, and with so swift and eager a Motion,
that she could not avoid, nor get loose from his Embrace, till he had
kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which all the Strength of his
Mind could not restrain; whether they were the Effects of Joy, or
whether (which rather may be feared) they were the Heat-drops which
preceded and threaten'd the Thunder and Tempest that should fall on his
Head, I cannot positively say; yet all this she was then forced to
endure, e'er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to breathe. But as soon
as she had freed herself from the loving Circle that should have been
the dear and lov'd Confinement or Centre of a Faithful Heart, she began
to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from her Eyes; which that Mouth
that he had just before so tenderly and sacredly kiss'd, seconded with
whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every Sentence, pointed with the
keenest Affliction that ever pierc'd a Soul. _Antonio_, (she began) you
have treated me now as if you were never like to see me more: and would
to Heaven you were not!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting and staring wildly on
her;) What said you, Madam? What said you, my _Ardelia_? If you like the
Repetition, take it? (reply'd she, unmoved) _Would to Heaven you were
never like to see me more!_ Good! very Good! (cry'd he, with a Sigh that
threw him trembling into a Chair behind him, and gave her the
Opportunity of proceeding thus:)--Yet, _Antonio_, I must not have my
Wish; I must continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by
the strictest and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don
_Henrique_, your Friend, commands it; Don _Henrique_, the dearest Object
of my Soul, enjoins it; Don _Henrique_, whose only Aversion I am, will
have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry'd Don _Henrique_.) Lead me,
lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse, I beseech you
(said Don _Antonio_) that I may see your Meaning! for hitherto 'tis
Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with your best Faculties (pursu'd
_Ardelia_) and know, That I do most sincerely and most passionately love
Don _Henrique_; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I have this Day
consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake in the
least, _Antonio_, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of my Life to
his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her self to
Don _Henrique_) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute your own most
dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts never can meet.
All this to try me! It's too much, _Ardelia_--(said _Antonio_:) And then
turning to Don _Henrique_, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not
Apostate to our Friendship! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil
has been tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a Man of Honour once.
And when I forfeit my just Title to that (interrupted Don _Henrique_)
may I be made most miserable!--May I lose the Blessings of thy
Friendship!--May I lose thee!--Say on then, _Henrique_! (cry'd
_Antonio_:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of Friendship,
say, Is this a Trial of me? Is't Illusion, Sport, or shameful murderous
Truth?--Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can bear no longer!--Tell!
Speak! Say on!--[Here, with folded Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on
_Henrique_, he stood like a Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes,
when his swelling Heart raised his over-charged Breast.] After a little
Pause, and a hearty Sigh or two, _Henrique_ began;--Oh, _Antonio_! Oh my
Friend! prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!--I am
(pursu'd he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that e'er
till now offended:--I love her, _Antonio_,--I love _Ardelia_ with a
Passion strong and violent as thine!--Oh! summon all that us'd to be
more than Man about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which
nothing but a Resolution like thine can bear! I know it by myself.--Tho'
there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted
_Antonio_) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I will, (returned
Don _Henrique_) tho' I feel my own Words have the same cruel Effects on
me. I say, again, my Soul loves _Ardelia_: And how can it be otherwise?
Have we not both the self-same Appetites, the same Disgusts? How then
could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate
just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the
Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or
Passion could have seen, and not have lov'd her! Then how should I,
whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had
prevail'd on you?--And now, to let you know, 'tis no Illusion, no Sport,
but serious and amazing woeful Truth, _Ardelia_ best can tell you whom
she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven (cry'd she) 'tis
you, Don _Henrique_, whom I only love, and who alone can give me
Happiness: Ah, would you would!--With you, _Antonio_, I must remain
unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my Hell; Don _Henrique_ is my
Heaven. And thou art mine, (returned he) which here I part with to my
dearest Friend. Then taking her Hand, Pardon me, _Antonio_, (pursued he)
that I thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your
_Ardelia_, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss'd her Hand, and gave
it to Don _Antonio_; who received it, and gently pressed it close to his
Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had caus'd there.]
Be happy, _Antonio_, (cry'd _Henrique_:) Be very tender of her;
To-morrow early I shall hope to see thee.--_Ardelia_ (pursued he) All
Happiness and Joy surround thee! May'st thou ne'er want those Blessings
thou can'st give _Antonio_!--Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah
(cry'd she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake
me.--Yet do not go!--Ah, cruel! (continu'd she, seeing him quit the
Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned away in Don
_Antonio's_ Arms; who, though he was happy that he had her fast there,
yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and _Ardelia's_ Attendants, e'er
she could be perfectly recovered. In the mean while Don _Henrique_ had
not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but wandred to and fro
about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able longer to refrain
her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his Ears, he came again
into the Room where he left her with Don _Antonio_, just as she revived,
and called him, exclaiming on his Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But
when, turning her Eyes towards the Door, she saw him; Oh! with what
eager Haste she flew to him! then clasped him round the Waist, obliging
him, with all the tender Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a
Woman's too, is capable of uttering, not to leave her in the Possession
of Don _Antonio_. This so amaz'd her slighted Lover, that he knew not,
at first, how to proceed in this tormenting Scene; but at last,
summoning all his wonted Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her,
He would put her out of his Power, if she would consent to retreat for
some few Hours to a Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from
thence, till he had discoursed his Friend, Don _Henrique_ something more
particularly than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily
agreed, upon the Promise that Don _Henrique_ made her, of seeing her
with the first Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent,
where she was kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but
it was not long before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and
more afflicting Circumstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it
was almost dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour's
Absence; and the better to palliate their Design, _Henrique_ told her,
that he would make use of her Father Don _Richardo's_ Coach, in which
they came to Don _Antonio's_, for so small a Time: which they did,
leaving only _Eleonora_ her Attendant with her, with out whom she had
been at a Loss, among so many fair Strangers; Strangers, I mean, to her
unhappy Circumstances: Whilst they were carry'd near a Mile farther,
where, just as 'twas dark, they lighted from the Coach, Don _Henrique_,
ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their Return from their
private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field that belong'd to the
Convent. Here Don _Antonio_ told Don _Henrique_, That he had not acted
honourably; That he had betray'd him, and robb'd him at once both of a
Friend and Mistress. To which t'other returned, That he understood his
Meaning, when he proposed a particular Discourse about this Affair,
which he now perceived must end in Blood: But you may remind your self
(continued he) that I have kept my Promise in delivering her to you.
Yes, (cry'd _Antonio_) after you had practis'd foully and basely on her.
Not at all! (returned _Henrique_) It was her Fate that brought this
Mischief on her; for I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but
all in vain, to her. But don't you love her, _Henrique_? (the other
ask'd.) Too well, and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel
the cursed Effects of the same Inconstancy: However, I had quitted her
all to you, but you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir,
(cry'd _Antonio_, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here,
without more Words, they fell to Action; to bloody Action. (Ah! how
wretched are our Sex, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal
Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side
with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds
of their former Friendship; till Don _Antonio_ fell, and said, dying,
'Forgive me, _Henrique_! I was to blame; I could not live without
her:--I fear she will betray thy Life, which haste and preserve, for my
sake--Let me not die all at once!--Heaven pardon both of us!--Farewel!
Oh, haste! Farewel! (_returned Don +Henrique+_) Farewel, thou bravest,
truest Friend! Farewel thou noblest Part of me!--And Farewel all the
Quiet of my Soul.' Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he
found he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood,
for he had received two or three dangerous Wounds, besides others of
less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the convenient Haste he could to
the Coach, into which, by the Help of the Footmen, he got, and order'd
'em to drive him directly to Don _Richardo's_ with all imaginable Speed;
where he arriv'd in little more than half an Hour's Time, and was
received by _Ardelia's_ Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement
that is expressible, seeing him return'd without his Daughter, and so
desperately wounded. Before he thought it convenient to ask him any
Question more than to enquire of his Daughter's Safety, to which he
receiv'd a short but satisfactory Answer, Don _Richardo_ sent for an
eminent and able Surgeon, who probed and dress'd Don _Henrique's_
Wounds, who was immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of
his Recovery; but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Constitution!)
he rested pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the
Morning, _Ardelia's_ Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that
Night, came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who
watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short
Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circumstances of the
past Night's Adventure; of which Don _Henrique_ gave him a perfect and
pleasant Account, since he heard that Don _Antonio_, his mortal Enemy,
was killed; the Assurance of whose Death was the more delightful to him,
since, by this Relation, he found that _Antonio_ was the Man, whom his
Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don _Henrique_ had hardly
made an End of his Narration, e'er a Servant came hastily to give
_Richardo_ Notice, that the Officers were come to search for his
Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old Gentleman's wise
Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that they might as
reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had a Door made
of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close Apartment:
He went therefore boldly to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of
his House, with free Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which
they did, but to no Purpose; and Don _Henrique_ lay there undiscover'd,
till his Cure was perfected.
In the mean time _Ardelia_, who that fatal Night but too rightly guess'd
that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they did not
return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in which
her Father found her soon after he had clear'd himself of those who come
to search for a Lover. The Assurance which her Father gave her of
_Henrique's_ Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the Severity of
_Antonio's_ Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she could not but
retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added to her
Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that _Richardo_ was
constrain'd to leave her under the Care of the good Lady Abbess, and to
the diligent Attendance of _Eleonora_, not daring to hazard her Life in
a Removal to his own House. All their Care and Diligence was however
ineffectual; for she languished even to the least Hope of Recovery, till
immediately after the first Visit of Don _Henrique_, which was the first
he made in a Month's Time, and that by Night _incognito_, with her
Father, her Distemper visibly retreated each Day: Yet when at last she
enjoy'd a perfect Health of Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged
into a deep Melancholy; which made her entertain a positive Resolution
of taking the Veil at the End of her Novitiate; which accordingly she
did, notwithstanding all the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her
Father and Lover. But she soon repented her Vow, and often wish'd that
she might by any Means see and speak to Don _Henrique_, by whose Help
she promised to her self a Deliverance out of her voluntary
Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes wanting to the same Effect, tho' he
was forced to fly into _Italy_, to avoid the Prosecution of _Antonio's_
Friends. Thither she pursu'd him; nor could he any way shun her, unless
he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his Body: Which made him
take a fatal Resolution of returning to _Seville_ in Disguise, where he
wander'd about the Convent every Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul
was within, while his inanimate Trunk was without) till at last he found
Means to convey a Letter to her, which both surprized and delighted her.
The Messenger that brought it her was one of her Mother-in-Law's Maids,
whom he had known before, and met accidentally one Night as he was going
his Rounds, and she coming out from _Ardelia_; with her he prevail'd,
and with Gold obliged her to Secrecy and Assistance: Which proved so
successful, that he understood from _Ardelia_ her strong Desire of
Liberty, and the Continuance of her Passion for him, together with the
Means and Time most convenient and likely to succeed for her
Enlargement. The Time was the fourteenth Night following, at twelve
o'Clock, which just compleated a Month since his Return thither; at
which Time they both promised themselves the greatest Happiness on
Earth. But you may observe the Justice of Heaven, in their
Disappointment.
Don _Sebastian_, who still pursu'd him with a most implacable Hatred,
had traced him even to _Italy_, and there narrowly missing him, posted
after him to _Toledo_; so sure and secret was his Intelligence! As soon
as he arriv'd, he went directly to the Convent where his Sister _Elvira_
had been one of the Profess'd, ever since Don _Henrique_ had forsaken
her, and where _Ardelia_ had taken her repented Vow. _Elvira_ had all
along conceal'd the Occasion of her coming thither from _Ardelia_; and
tho' she was her only Confident, and knew the whole Story of her
Misfortunes, and heard the Name of Don _Henrique_ repeated a hundred
Times a Day, whom still she lov'd most perfectly, yet never gave her
beautiful Rival any Cause of Suspicion that she lov'd him, either by
Words or Looks: Nay more, when she understood that Don _Henrique_ came
to the Convent with _Ardelia_ and _Antonio_, and at other Times with her
Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing
him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to
him, had not her Brother Don _Sebastian_ put her upon the cruel
Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as I have
said before) found her with Dona _Ardelia_, whom he never remembred to
have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that was about six
Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she fell
passionately in Love with him, and continu'd her Passion till about the
fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate _Antonio_ first began
his Court to her. Don _Sebastian_ was really a very desirable Person,
being at that time very beautiful, his Age not exceeding six and twenty,
of a sweet Conversation, very brave, but revengeful and irreconcilable
(like most of his Countrymen) and of an honourable Family. At the Sight
of him _Ardelia_ felt her former Passion renew; which proceeded and
continued with such Violence, that it utterly defac'd the Ideas of
_Antonio_ and _Henrique_. (No Wonder that she who could resolve to
forsake her God for Man, should quit one Lover for another.) In short,
she then only wished that he might love her equally, and then she
doubted not of contriving the Means of their Happiness betwixt 'em. She
had her Wish, and more, if possible; for he lov'd her beyond the Thought
of any other present or future Blessing, and fail'd not to let her know
it, at the second Interview; when he receiv'd the greatest Pleasure he
could have wish'd, next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed
her Love to him, and presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her
Escape; but not finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those
Measures she had sent to Don _Henrique_, she communicates the very same
to Don _Sebastian_, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very
Night, wherein she had obliged Don _Henrique_ to attempt her
Deliverance: The Hour indeed was different, being determined to be at
eleven. _Elvira_, who was present at the Conference, took the Hint; and
not being willing to disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in
Vindication of her, either does not, or would not seem to oppose his
Inclinations at that Time: However, when he retired with her to talk
more particularly of his intended Revenge on Don _Henrique_, who he told
her lay somewhere absconded in _Toledo_, and whom he had resolved, as he
assured her, to sacrifice to her injur'd Honour, and his Resentments;
she oppos'd that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible
Arguments in a virtuous and pious Lady's Capacity, but in vain: so that
immediately upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity
of writing to Don _Henrique_ as follows, the fatal Hour not being then
seven Nights distant.
Don _Henrique_,
_My Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit of your Life; nay more, of
your Mistress, who has consented to make her Escape from the
Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means on which she
had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour is eleven.
I know, +Henrique+, your +Ardelia+ is dearer to you than your Life:
But your Life, your dear Life, is more desired than any Thing in
this World, by_