at what he read, and after a little consultation with ANARET, they
concluded he should go to speak to her, as being the best Sollicitor
in his own Cause. As he came down the Walk, AMENA saw him thro’ the
Glass, and the sight of that beloved Object, bringing a thousand past
Endearments to her Memory, made her incapable of retiring from the
Window, and she remain’d in a languishing and immoveable Posture, leaning
her Head against the Shutter, ’till he drew near enough to discern she
saw him. He took this for no ill Omen, and instead of falling on his
Knees at an humble Distance, as some Romantick Lovers would have done,
redoubled his Pace, and Love and Fortune which on this Occasion were
resolv’d to befriend him, presented to his View a large Rolling-Stone
which the Gardiner had accidentally left there; the Iron-work that held
it was very high, and strong enough to bear a much greater weight than
his, so he made no more to do, but getting on the top of it, was almost
to the Waste above the bottom of the Casement. This was a strange Trial,
for had she been less in Love, good Manners would have oblig’d her to
open it; however she retain’d so much of her former Resolution, as to
conjure him to be gone, and not expose her to such Hazards; that if her
Father should come to know she held any clandestine Correspondence with
him, after the Commands he had given her, she were utterly undone, and
that he never must expect any Condescensions from her, without being
first allow’d by him. D’ELMONT, tho’ he was a little startled to find her
so much more Mistress of her Temper than he believ’d she could be, yet
resolv’d to make all possible use of this Opportunity, which probably
might be the last he shou’d ever have, look’d on her as she spoke,
with Eyes so piercing, so sparkling with Desire, accompany’d with so
bewitching softness, as might have thaw’d the most frozen reservedness,
and on the melting Soul stamp’d Love’s Impression. ’Tis certain they were
too irresistable to be long withstood, and putting an end to AMENA’S
grave Remonstrances, gave him leave to reply to ’em in this manner. Why
my Life, my Angel, said he, my everlasting Treasure of my Soul, shou’d
these Objections now be rais’d? How can you say you have given me your
Heart? Nay, own you think me worthy that inestimable Jewel, yet dare
not trust your Person with me a few Hours: What have you to fear from
your adoring Slave? I want but to convince you how much I am so, by a
thousand yet uninvented Vows. They may be spar’d, cry’d AMENA, hastily
interrupting him, one Declaration to my Father, is all the Proof that he
or I demands of your Sincerity. Oh! Thou Inhuman and Tyrannick Charmer,
answer’d he, (seizing her Hand, and eagerly kissing it) I doubt not
but your faithful ANARET has told you, that I could not without the
highest Imprudence, presently discover the Passion I have for you to the
World. I have, my Lord, said that cunning Wench who stood near him, and
that ’twas only to acquaint her with the Reasons why, for some Time,
you would have it a Secret, that you much desir’d to speak with her.
Besides (rejoyn’d the COUNT) consider my Angel how much more hazardous
it is for you to hold Discourse with me here, than at a farther distance
from your Father; your denying to go with me is the only way to make
your Fears prove true; his jealousie of you may possibly make him more
watchful than ordinary, and we are not sure but that this Minute he may
tear you from my Arms; whereas if you suffer me to bear you hence, if
he should happen to come even to your Door, and hear no noise, he will
believe you sleeping, and return to his Bed well satisfy’d. With these
and the like Arguments she was at last overcome, and with the assistance
of ANARET, he easily lifted her down. But this rash Action, so contrary
to the Resolution she thought herself a few moments before so fix’d in,
made such a confusion in her Mind, as render’d her insensible for some
Time of all he said to her. They made what haste they could into the
_Tuilleries_, and D’ELMONT having plac’d her on one of the most pleasant
Seats, was resolv’d to loose no time; and having given her some Reasons
for his not addressing to her Father, which tho’ weak in themselves, were
easily believ’d by a Heart so willing to be deceiv’d as hers, he began
to press for a greater confirmation of her Affection than Words; and
’twas now this inconsiderate Lady found herself in the greatest Strait
she had ever yet been in; all Nature seem’d to favour his Design, the
pleasantness of the Place, the silence of the Night, the sweetness of the
Air, perfum’d with a thousand various Odours, wafted by gentle Breezes
from adjacent Gardens, compleated the most delightful Scene that ever
was, to offer up a Sacrifice to Love; not a breath but flew wing’d with
desire, and sent soft thrilling Wishes to the Soul; CYNTHIA herself, cold
as she is reported, assisted in the Inspiration, and sometimes shone with
all her brightness, as it were to feast their ravish’d Eyes with gazing
on each others Beauty; then veil’d her Beams in Clouds, to give the
Lover boldness, and hide the Virgins blushes. What now could poor AMENA
do, surrounded with so many Powers, attack’d by such a charming Force
without, betray’d by tenderness within: Virtue and Pride, the Guardians
of her Honour, fled from her Breast, and left her to her Foe, only a
modest Bashfulness remain’d, which for a time made some Defence, but with
such weakness as a Lover less impatient than D’ELMONT, would have little
regarded. The heat of the Weather, and her Confinement having hindred her
from dressing that Day; she had only a thin silk Night Gown on, which
flying open as he caught her in his Arms, he found her panting-Heart
beat measures of Consent, her heaving Breast swell to be press’d by his,
and every Pulse confess a wish to yeild; her Spirits all dissolv’d, sunk
in a Lethargy of Love; her snowy Arms, unknowing, grasp’d his Neck, her
Lips met his half way, and trembled at the touch; in fine, there was
but a Moment betwixt her and Ruin; when the tread of some Body coming
hastily down the Walk, oblig’d the half-bless’d Pair to put a stop to
farther Endearments. It was ANARET, who having been left Centinel in
the Garden, in order to open the Door when her Lady should return, had
seen Lights in every Room in the House, and heard great Confusion, so
ran immediately to give ’em notice of this Misfortune. These dreadful
Tidings soon rous’d AMENA from her Dream of Happiness, she accus’d the
influence of her Amorous Stars, upbraided ANARET, and blam’d the Count
in Terms little differing from distraction, and ’twas as much as both of
’em could do to perswade her to be calm. However, ’twas concluded that
ANARET should go back to the House, and return to ’em again, as soon as
she had learn’d what accident had occasion’d this Disturbance. The Lovers
had now a second Opportunity, if either of ’em had been inclin’d to make
use of it, but their Sentiments were entirely chang’d with this Alarm;
AMENA’s Thoughts were wholly taken up with her approaching Shame, and
vow’d she wou’d rather die than ever come in to her Father’s Presence, if
it were true that she was miss’d; the Count, who wanted not good Nature,
seriously reflecting on the Misfortunes he was likely to bring on a young
Lady, who tenderly lov’d him, gave him a great deal of real Remorse,
and the Consideration that he should be necessitated, either to own an
injurious Design, or come into Measures for the clearing of it, which
would in no way agree with his Ambition, made him extreamly pensive, and
wish AMENA again in her Chamber, more earnestly than ever he had done, to
get her out of it; they both remain’d in a profound Silence, impatiently
waiting the approach of ANARET; but she not coming as they expected, and
the Night wearing away apace, very much encreas’d the Trouble they were
in; at length the Count, after revolving a thousand Inventions in his
Mind, advis’d to walk toward the Garden, and see whether the Door was yet
open. ’Tis better for you, Madam, said he, whatsoever has happen’d, to
be found in your own Garden, than in any Place with me. AMENA comply’d,
and suffer’d herself to be led thither, trembling, and ready to sink
with Fear and Grief at every Step; but when they found all fast, and
that there was no hopes of getting Entrance, she fell quite senseless,
and without any signs of Life, at her Lover’s Feet; he was strangely at
a loss what to do with her, and made a thousand Vows if he got clear of
this Adventure, never to embark in another of this Nature; he was little
skill’d in proper Means to recover her, and ’twas more to her Youth and
the goodness of her Constitution that she ow’d the Return of her Senses,
than his awkard Endeavours; when she reviv’d, the piteous Lamentations
she made, and the perplexity he was in how to dispose of her, was very
near reducing him to as bad a Condition as she had been in; he never till
now having had occasion for a Confident, render’d him so unhappy as not
to know any one Person at whose House he cou’d, with any Convenience,
trust her, and to carry her to that where he had Lodgings, was the way to
be made the talk of all _Paris_. He ask’d her several times if she would
not command him to wait on her to some Place where she might remain free
from Censure, till she heard from her Father, but cou’d get no Answer but
upbraidings from her. So making a Virtue of Necessity, he was oblig’d to
take her in his Arms, with a design to bring her (tho’ much against his
Inclinations) to his own Apartment: As he was going thro’ a very fair
Street which led to that in which he liv’d, AMENA cry’d out with a sort
of Joy, loose me, my Lord, I see a Light in yonder House, the Lady of
it is my dearest Friend, she has power with my Father, and if I beg her
Protection, I doubt not but she will afford it me, and perhaps find some
way to mitigate my Misfortunes; the _Count_ was overjoy’d to be eas’d
of his fair Burthen, and setting her down at the Gate, was preparing
to take his leave with an indifference, which was but too visible to
the afflicted Lady. I see, my Lord, said she, the pleasure you take in
getting rid of me, exceeds the trouble for the Ruin you have brought upon
me; but go, I hope I shall resent this Usage as I ought, and that I may
be the better enabled to do so, I desire you to return the Letter I writ
this fatal Night, the Resolution it contain’d will serve to remind me of
my shameful Breach of it.
Madam (answer’d he coldly, but with great Complaisance) you have said
enough to make a Lover less obedient, refuse; but because I am sensible
of the Accidents that happen to Letters, and to shew that I can never
be repugnant even to the most rigorous of your Commands, I shall make
no scruple in fulfilling this, and trust to your Goodness for the
re-settling me in your Esteem, when next you make me so happy as to see
you. The formality of this Compliment touch’d her to the Quick, and the
thought of what she was like to suffer on his account, fill’d her with
so just an Anger, that as soon as she got the Letter, she knock’d hastily
at the Gate, which being immediately open’d, broke off any further
Discourse, she went in, and he departed to his Lodging, ruminating on
every Circumstance of this Affair, and consulting with himself how he
shou’d proceed. ALOVISA (for it was her House which AMENA by a whimsical
effect of Chance had made choice of for her Sanctuary) was no sooner told
her Rival was come to speak with her, but she fell into all the Raptures
that successful Malice could inspire, she was already inform’d of part of
this Night’s Adventure; for the cunning CHARLO who by her Orders had been
a diligent Spy on Count D’ELMONT’S Actions, and as constant an Attendant
on him as his shadow, had watch’d him to Monsieur SANSEVERIN’S Garden,
seen him enter, and afterwards come with AMENA into the _Tuilleries_;
where perceiving ’em Seated, ran Home, and brought his Lady an Account;
Rage, Jealousie and Envy working their usual Effects in her; at this
News, made her promise the Fellow infinite Rewards if he would invent
some Stratagem to separate ’em, which he undertaking to do, occasion’d
her being up so late, impatiently waiting his return; she went down to
receive her with great Civility, mix’d with a feign’d surprize to see
her at such an Hour, and in such a Dishabilee; which the other answering
ingeniously, and freely letting her into the whole Secret, not only of
her Amour, but the coldness she observ’d in D’ELMONT’S Behaviour at
parting, fill’d this cruel Woman with so exquisite a Joy, as she was
hardly capable of dissembling; therefore to get liberty to indulge it,
and to learn the rest of the particulars of CHARLO, who she heard was
come in, she told AMENA she would have her go to Bed, and endeavour to
compose her self, and that she would send for Monsieur SANSEVERIN in
the Morning, and endeavour to reconcile him to her. I will also added
she, with a deceitful smile, see the Count D’ELMONT, and talk to him
in a manner as shall make him truly sensible of his Happiness; nay,
so far my Friendship shall extend, that if there be any real Cause for
making your Amour a Secret, he shall see you at my House, and pass for
a Visitor of mine; I have no body to whom I need be accountable for
my Actions and am above the Censures of the World. AMENA, thank’d her
in Terms full of gratitude, and went with the Maid, whom ALOVISA had
order’d to conduct her to a Chamber prepar’d for her; as soon as she
had got rid of her, she call’d for CHARLO, impatient to hear by what
contrivance this lucky Chance had befallen her. Madam, said, he, tho’ I
form’d a thousand Inventions, I found not any so plausible, as to alarm
Monsieur SANSEVERIN’S Family, with an out-cry of Fire. Therefore I rang
the Bell at the fore-gate of the House, and bellow’d in the most terrible
accent I could possible turn my Voice to, Fire, Fire, rise, or you will
all be burnt in your Beds. I had not repeated this many times, before
I found the Effect I wish’d; the Noises I heard, and the Lights I saw
in the Rooms, assur’d me there were no Sleepers left; then I ran to the
_Tuilleries_, designing to observe the Lover’s proceedings, but I found
they were appriz’d of the Danger they were in, of being discover’d, and
were coming to endeavour an entrance into the Garden. I know the rest,
interrupted ALOVISA, the Event has answer’d even beyond my Wishes, and
thy Reward for this good Service shall be greater than thy Expectations.
As she said these Words she retir’d to her Chamber, more satisfy’d than
she had been for many Months. Quite different did poor AMENA pass the
Night, for besides the grief of having disoblig’d her Father, banish’d
her self his House, and expos’d her Reputation to the unavoidable
Censures of the unpitying World; for an ungrateful, or at best an
indifferent Lover. She receiv’d a vast addition of Afflictions, when
taking out the Letter which D’ELMONT had given her at parting, possible
to weep over it; and accuse her self for so inconsiderately breaking
the noble Resolution she had form’d, when it was writ. She found it was
ALOVISA’S Hand, for the _Count_ by mistake had given her the second he
receiv’d from that Lady, instead of that she desir’d him to return. Never
was Surprize, Confusion, and Dispair at such a height, as in AMENA’S Soul
at this Discovery; she was now assur’d by what she read, that she had
fled for Protection to the very Person she ought most to have avoided;
that she had made a Confident of her greatest Enemy, a Rival dangerous
to her Hopes in every Circumstance. She consider’d the High Birth and
vast Possessions that ALOVISA was Mistress of in opposition to her
Father’s scanted Power of making her a Fortune. Her Wit and Subtilty
against her Innocence and Simplicity: her Pride, and the respect her
grandeur commanded from the World, against her own deplor’d and wretch’d
State, and look’d upon her self as wholly lost. The violence of her
Sorrow is more easily imagin’d than express’d; but of all her melancholy
Reflections, none rack’d her equal to the belief she had that D’ELMONT
was not unsensible by this time whom the Letter came from, and had only
made a Court to her to amuse himself a while, and then suffer her to fall
a Sacrifice to his Ambition, and feed the Vanity of her Rival; a just
Indignation now open’d the Eyes of her Understanding, and considering
all the Passages of the _Count_’s Behaviour, she saw a thousand Things
which told her, his Designs on her were far unworthy of the Name of
Love. None that were ever touch’d with the least of those Passions which
agitated the Soul of AMENA, can believe they would permit Sleep to enter
her Eyes: But if Grief and Distraction kept her from repose; ALOVISA
had too much Business on her Hands to enjoy much more; She had promis’d
AMENA to send for her Father, and the _Count_, and found there were not
too many Moments before Morning, to contrive so many different forms of
Behaviour, as should deceive ’em all three, compleat the Ruin of her
Rival, and engage the Addresses of her Lover; as soon as she thought it
a proper Hour, she dispatch’d a Messenger to Count D’ELMONT, and another
to Monsieur SANSEVERIN, who full of Sorrow as he was, immediately obey’d
her Summons. She receiv’d him in her Dressing-room, and with a great deal
of feign’d Trouble in her Countenance, accosted him in this manner. How
hard is it, said she, to dissemble Grief, and in spite of all the Care,
which I doubt not you have taken to conceal it, in consideration of your
own, and Daughter’s Honour, I too plainly perceive it in your Face to
imagine that my own is hid: How, Madam, cry’d the impatient Father, (then
giving a loose to his Tears) are you acquainted then with my Misfortune?
Alas, answer’d she, I fear by the Consequences you have been the last to
whom it has been reveal’d. I hop’d that my Advice, and the daily Proofs
the _Count_ gave your Daughter of the little regard he had for her, might
have fir’d her to a generous Disdain, and have a thousand Pardons to ask
of you for Breach of Friendship, in concealing an Affair so requisite
you should have known: Oh! Madam resum’d he, interrupting her, I conjure
you make no Apologies for what is past, I know too well the greatness
of your goodness, and the favour you have always been pleas’d to Honour
her with; not to be assur’d she was happy in your Esteem, and only beg
I may no longer be kept in Ignorance of the fatal Secret. You shall be
inform’d of all, said she, but then you must promise me to Act by my
Advice; which he having promis’d, she told him after what manner AMENA
came to her House, the coldness the _Count_ express’d to her, and the
violence of her Passion for him. Now, said she, if you should suffer
your rage to break out in any publick Manner against the _Count_, it
will only serve to make your Daughter’s Dishonour the Table-Talk of
all _Paris_. He is too great at Court, and has too many Friends to be
compell’d to any Terms for your Satisfaction; besides, the least noise
might make him discover by what means he first became acquainted with
her, and her excessive, I will not say troublesome fondness of him,
since; which should he do, the shame wou’d be wholly her’s, for few wou’d
condemn him for accepting the offer’d Caresses of a Lady so young and
beautiful as AMENA. But is it possible, cry’d he (quite confounded at
these Words) that she should stoop so low to offer Love. Oh Heavens! Is
this the Effect of all my Prayers, my Care, and my Indulgence. Doubt not,
resum’d ALOVISA, of the Truth of what I say, I have it from herself, and
to convince you it is so, I shall inform you of something I had forgot
before. Then she told him of the Note she had slip’d into the Letter he
had forc’d her to write, and of sending ANARET to his Lodgings, which
she heighten’d with all the aggravating Circumstances her Wit and Malice
cou’d suggest; till the old Man believing all she said as an Oracle, was
almost senseless between Grief and Anger; but the latter growing rather
the most predominant, he vow’d to punish her in such a manner as should
deter all Children from Disobedience. Now, said ALOVISA, it is, that I
expect the performance of your Promise; these threats avail but little to
the retrieving your Daughter’s Reputation, or your quiet; be therefore
perswaded to make no Words of it, compose your Countenance as much as
possible to serenity, and think if you have no Friend in any Monastry
where you could send her till this Discourse, and her own foolish Folly
be blown over. If you have not, I can recommend you to one at _St._
DENNIS where the Abbess is my near Relation, and on my Letter will use
her with all imaginable Tenderness. Monsieur was extreamly pleas’d at
this Proposal, and gave her those thanks the seeming kindness of her
offer deserv’d. I would not, resum’d she, have you take her Home, or
see her before she goes; or if you do, not till all things are ready
for her Departure, for I know she will be prodigal of her _Promises_
of Amendment, ’till she has prevail’d with your Fatherly Indulgence
to permit her stay at _Paris_, and know as well she will not have the
Power to _keep_ ’em in the same Town with the _Count_. She shall, if
you please, remain conceal’d in my House, ’till you have provided for
her Journey, and it will be a great Means to put a stop to any farther
Reflections the malicious may make on her; if you give out she is
already gone to some Relations in the Country. As she was speaking,
CHARLO came to acquaint her, one was come to visit her. She made no doubt
but ’twas D’ELMONT, therefore hasten’d away Monsieur SANSEVERIN, after
having fix’d him in a Resolution to do every thing as she advis’d. It was
indeed Count D’ELMONT that was come, which as soon as she was assur’d of,
she threw off her dejected and mournful Air, and assum’d one all Gaiety
and good Humour, dimpl’d her Mouth with Smiles, and call’d the laughing
Cupids to her Eyes.
My Lord, said she, you do well by this early visit to retrieve your Sexes
drooping fame of Constancy, and prove the nicety of AMENA’S discernment,
in conferring favours on a Person, who to his excellent Qualifications,
has that of assiduity to deserve them; as he was about to reply, the
rush of somebody coming hastily down the Stairs which faced the Room
they were in, oblig’d ’em to turn that way. It was the unfortunate
AMENA, who not being able to endure the Thoughts of staying in her
Rivals House, distracted with her Griefs, and not regarding what should
become of her, as soon as she heard the Doors were open, was preparing
to fly from that detested Place. ALOVISA was vex’d to the Heart at the
sight of her, hoping to have had some Discourse with the _Count_ before
they met; but she dissembled it, and catching hold of her as she was
endeavouring to pass, ask’d where she was going, and what occasion’d the
Disorder she observ’d in her. I go, (answer’d AMENA) from a false Lover,
and a falser Friend, but why shou’d I upbraid you (continu’d she looking
wildly sometimes on the _Count_, and sometimes on ALOVISA) Treacherous
Pair, you know too well each others Baseness, and my Wrongs; no longer
then, detain a Wretch whose Presence, had you the least Sense of
Honour, Gratitude, or even common Humanity, wou’d fill your Consciences
with Remorse and Shame; and who has now no other wish, than that of
shunning you for ever. As she spoke this, she struggled to get loose
from ALOVISA’S Arms, who, in spite of the Amazement she was in, still
held her. D’ELMONT was no less confounded, and intirely ignorant of the
Meaning of what he heard, was at a loss how to reply, ’till she resum’d
her reproaches in this manner: Why, ye Monsters of barbarity, said she,
do you delight in beholding the Ruins you have made? Is not the knowledge
of my Miseries, my everlasting Miseries, sufficient to content you? And
must I be debarr’d that only Remedy for Woes like mine? Death! Oh cruel
Return for all my Love, my Friendship! and the confidence I repos’d in
you. Oh! to what am I reduc’d by my too soft and easie Nature, hard fate
of tenderness, which healing others, only wounds it’s self.-----Just
Heavens!------here she stopp’d, the violence of her Resentment,
endeavouring to vent it self in sighs, rose in her Breast with such an
impetuosity as choak’d the Passage of her Words, and she fell in a Swoon.
Tho’ the _Count_, and ALOVISA were both in the greatest Consternation
imaginable, yet neither of ’em were negligent in trying to Recover her;
as they were busi’d about her, that fatal Letter which had been the Cause
of this Disturbance, fell out of her Bosom, and both being eager to take
it up (believing it might make some discovery) had their Hands on it at
the same time; it was but slightly folded, and immediately shew’d ’em
from what source AMENA’S despair proceeded: Her upbraidings of ALOVISA,
and the Blushes and Confusion which he observed in that Ladies Face, as
soon as ever she saw it open’d, put an end to the Mistery, and one less
quick of Apprehension than D’ELMONT, wou’d have made no difficulty in
finding his unknown Admirer in the Person of ALOVISA: She, to conceal
the Disorder she was in at this Adventure as much as possible, call’d
her Women, and order’d ’em to Convey AMENA into another Chamber where
there was more Air; as she was preparing to follow, turning a little
towards the _Count_. but still extreamly confus’d, you’ll Pardon, me, my
Lord, said she, if my concern for my Friend obliges me to leave you. Ah
Madam, reply’d he, forbear to make any Apologies to me, rather Summon
all your goodness to forgive a Wretch so blind to happiness as I have
been: She either cou’d not, or wou’d not make any answer to these Words,
but seeming as tho’ she heard ’em not, went hastily into the Room where
AMENA was, leaving the _Count_ full of various and confus’d Reflections;
the sweetness of his Disposition made him regret his being the Author
of AMENA’S Misfortunes, but how miserable is that Woman’s Condition,
who by her Mismanagement is reduc’d to so poor a Comfort as the pity of
her Lover; that Sex is generally too Gay to continue long uneasy, and
there was little likelihood he cou’d be capable of lamenting Ills, which
his small Acquaintance with the Passion from which they sprung, made
him not comprehend. The pleasure the Discovery gave him of a Secret he
had so long desir’d to find out, kept him from being too much concern’d
at the Adventure that occasion’d it; but he could not forbear accusing
himself of intollerable Stupidity, when he consider’d the Passages of
ALOVISA’S Behaviour, her swooning at the Ball, her constant Glances, her
frequent Blushes when he talk’d to her, and all his Cogitations whether
on ALOVISA, or AMENA, were mingled with a wonder that Love should have
such Power. The diversity of his Thoughts wou’d have entertain’d him much
longer, if they had not been interrupted by his Page, who came in a great
hurry, to acquaint him, that his Brother, the young Chevalier BRILLIAN
was just come to Town, and waited with Impatience for his coming Home:
As much a Stranger as D’ELMONT was to the Affairs of Love, he was none
to those of Friendship, and making no doubt but that the former ought
to yield to the latter in every respect; contented himself with telling
one of ALOVISA’S Servants, as he went out, that he wou’d wait on her
in the Evening, and made what hast he cou’d to give his beloved Brother
the welcome he expected after so long an absence; and indeed the manner
of their Meeting, express’d a most intire and sincere Affection on both
sides. The _Chevalier_ was but a Year younger than the _Count_, they had
been bred together from their Infancy, and there was such a sympathy in
their Souls, and so great a Resemblance in their Persons, as very much
contributed to endear ’em to each other with a Tenderness far beyond that
which is ordinarily found among Relations. After the first Testimonies of
it were over, D’ELMONT began to Question him how he had pass’d his Time
since their Separation, and to give him some little Reproaches for not
writing so often as he might have Expected. Alas! my dearest Brother,
reply’d the _Chevalier_, such various Adventures have hap’ned to me
since we parted, as when I relate ’em, will I hope excuse my seeming
Negligence; these Words were accompany’d with Sighs, and a Melancholly
Air immediately overspreading his Face, and taking away great part of the
Vivacity, which lately sparkled in his Eyes, rais’d an impatient Desire
in the _Count_ to know the Reason of it, which when he had express’d, the
other (after having engag’d him, that whatever Causes he might find to
ridicule his Folly, he wou’d suspend all appearance of it till the end of
his Narration) began to satisfy in this Manner.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE STORY OF THE Chevalier BRILLIAN.