D’ELMONT that _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE was taken, suddenly, so violently
Ill, that his Physicians despair’d of his Life; and that he beg’d to
speak with him immediately: This Gentleman had been Guardian to the COUNT
during his Minority, and the Care and Faithfulness with which that Trust
had been Discharg’d, made him, with Reason, to regret the danger of
losing so good a Friend: He delay’d the Visit not a Moment, and found him
as the Servant had told him, in a Condition which cou’d cherish no hopes
of Recovery, as soon as he perceiv’d the COUNT come into the Chamber, he
desir’d to be left alone with him, which Order being presently obey’d,
My dear Charge, (said he taking him by the Hand, and pressing to his
trembling Bosom) you see me at the point of Death, but the knowledge of
your many Virtues, and the Confidence I have that you will not deny me
the request I am about to ask, makes me support the Thoughts of it with
Moderation. The other assuring him of his readiness to serve him in any
Command, encourag’d the old Gentleman to prosecute his Discourse in this
manner: You are not Ignorant, my Lord (Rejoin’d He) that my Son (the only
one have) is on his Travels, gone by my Approbation, and his own Desires
to make the Tour of _Europe_; but I have a Daughter, whose Protection I
wou’d entreat you to undertake; her Education in a Monastery has hitherto
kept her intirely unacquainted with the Gayeties of a Court, or the
Conversation of the _Beau Monde_, and I have sent for her to _Paris_
purposely to Introduce her into Company, proper for a young Lady, who I
never design’d for a Recluse; I know not whether she will be here time
enough to close my Eyes, but if you will promise to receive her into
your House, and not suffer her artless and unexperienc’d Youth to fall
into those Snares which are daily laid for Innocence, and take so far a
Care, that neither she, nor the Fortune I leave her, be thrown away upon
a Man unworthy of her, I shall dye well satisfy’d. D’ELMONT answer’d
this Request, with repeated assurances of fulfilling it, and frankly
offer’d, if he had no other Person in whom he rather wou’d confide, to
take the management of the whole Estate he left behind him, till young
FRANKVILLE should return----The anxious Father was transported at this
Favour, and thank’d him in Terms full of Gratitude and Affection; they
spent some Hours in settling this Affair, and perhaps had not ended it so
soon, if Word had not been brought that the young Lady his Daughter was
alighted at the Gate; ’tis impossible to express the Joy which fill’d the
old Gentleman’s Heart at this News, and he began afresh to put the COUNT
in mind of what he had promis’d concerning her: As they were in this
endearing, tho’ mournful Entertainment, the matchless MELLIORA enter’d,
the Surprize and Grief for her Father’s Indisposition (having heard of
it but since she came into the House) hindered her from regarding any
thing but him, and throwing herself on her Knees by the Bed-side, wash’d
the Hand which he stretch’d out to raise her with, in a flood of Tears,
accompany’d with Expressions, which, unstudy’d and incoherent as they
were, had a delicacy in ’em, that show’d her Wit not inferiour to her
Tenderness; and that no Circumstance cou’d render her otherwise than
the most lovely Person in the World; when the first transports of her
Sorrow were over, and that with much ado she was persuaded to rise from
the Posture she was in: The Affliction I see thee in my Dear Child,
(said her Father) wou’d be a vast addition to the Agonies I feel, were I
not so happy as to be provided with Means for a mitigation of it, think
not in losing me thou wilt be left wholly an Orphan, this worthy Lord
will dry thy Tears. Therefore, my last Commands to thee shall be, to
oblige thee to endeavour to deserve the Favours he is pleas’d to do us
in accepting thee for---He wou’d have proceeded, but his Physicians (who
had been in Consultation in the next Room) coming in prevented him, and
_Count_ D’ELMONT taking the charming MELLIORA by the Hand, led her to
the Window, and beginning to speak some Words of Consolation to her,
the softness of his Voice, and graceful Manner with which he deliver’d
himself (always the inseparable Companions of his Discourse, but now more
particularly so) made her cast her Eyes upon him; but alas, he was not
an Object to be safely gaz’d at, and in spight of the Grief she was in,
she found something in his Form which dissipated it; a kind of painful
Pleasure, a mixture of Surprize, and Joy, and doubt, ran thro’ her in an
instant; her Fathers Words suggested to her Imagination, that she was in
a possibility of calling the charming Person that stood before her, by a
Name more tender than that of Guardian, and all the Actions, Looks, and
Address of D’ELMONT serv’d but to confirm her in that Belief. For now it
was, that this insensible began to feel the Power of Beauty, and that
Heart which had so long been Impregnable, surrender’d in a Moment; the
first sight of MELLIORA gave him a Discomposure he had never felt before,
he Sympathiz’d in all her Sorrows, and was ready to joyn his Tears with
hers, but when her Eyes met his, the God of Love seem’d there to have
united all his Lightnings for one effectual Blaze, their Admiration of
each others Perfections was mutual, and tho’ he had got the start in
Love, as being touch’d with that Almighty Dart, before her Affliction had
given her leave to regard him, yet the softness of her Soul made up for
that little loss of time, and it was hard to say whose Passion was the
Strongest; she listned to his Condolements, and assurances of everlasting
Friendship, with a pleasure which was but too visible in her Countenance,
and more enflam’d the COUNT. As they were exchanging Glances, as if each
vyed with the other who should dart the fiercest Rays, they heard a sort
of ominous Whispering about the Bed, and presently one of those who
stood near it, beckon’d them to come thither; the Physicians had found
_Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE in a much worse Condition than they left him in,
and soon after perceiv’d evident Symptoms in him of approaching Death,
and indeed there were but a very few Moments between him and that other
unfathomable World; the use of Speech had left him, and he cou’d take
no other leave of his dear Daughter than with his Eyes; which sometimes
were cast tenderly on her, sometimes on the COUNT, with a beseeching
Look, as it were, to Conjure him to be careful of his Charge; then up to
Heaven, as witness of the Trust he reposed in him. There cou’d not be a
Scene more Melancholly than this dumb Farewell, and MELLIORA, whose soft
Disposition had never before been shock’d, had not Courage to support so
dreadful a one as this, but fell upon the Bed just as her Father Breath’d
his last, as motionless as he. It is impossible to represent the Agony’s
which fill’d the Heart of D’ELMONT at this View, he took her in his Arms,
and assisted those who were endeavouring to recover her, with a wildness
in his Countenance, a trembling Horror shaking all his Fabrick in such a
manner, as might have easily discover’d to the Spectators (if they had
not been too busily employ’d to take notice of it) that he was Actuated
by a Motive far more powerful than that of Compassion. As soon as she
came to herself, they forc’d her from the Dead Body of her Father (to
which she Clung) and carried her into another Room, and it being judg’d
convenient that she should be remov’d from that House, where every thing
wou’d serve but to remind her of her Loss, the COUNT desir’d the Servants
of _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE shou’d be call’d, and then in the presence of
’em all, declar’d their Master’s last Request, and order’d an Account of
all Affairs shou’d be brought to his House, where he wou’d immediately
Conduct their young Lady, as he had promis’d to her Father. If MELLIORA
had been without any other cause of Grief, this Eclaircissment had been
sufficient to have made her Miserable: She had already entertained a
most tender Affection for the COUNT, and had not so little discernment
as not to be sensible she had made the like Impression on him; but now
she wak’d as from a Dream of promis’d Joys, to certain Woes, and the same
Hour which gave Birth to her Passion, commenc’d an adequate Despair, and
kill’d her Hopes just budding.
Indeed there never was any Condition so truly deplorable as that of this
unfortunate Lady; she had just lost a dear and tender Father, whose
Care was ever watchful for her, her Brother was far off, and she had no
other Relation in the World to apply her self to for Comfort, or Advice;
not even an Acquaintance at _Paris_, or Friend, but him who but newly
was become so, and whom she found it dangerous to make use of, whom she
knew it was a Crime to Love, yet cou’d not help Loving; the more she
thought, the more she grew Distracted, and the less able to resolve on
any Thing; a thousand Times she call’d on Death to give her ease, but
that pale Tyrant flies from the Pursuer, she had not been yet long enough
acquainted with the ills of Life, and must endure (how unwilling soever)
her part of Sufferings in common with the rest of human kind.
As soon as D’ELMONT had given some necessary Directions to the Servants,
he came to the Couch, where she was sitting in a fix’d and silent Sorrow
(tho’ inwardly toss’d with various and violent Agitations) and offering
her his Hand, entreated her to permit him to wait on her from that House
of Woe. Alas! Said she, to what purpose shou’d I remove, who bear my
Miseries about me? Wretch that I am!---a flood of Tears, here interpos’d,
and hindred her from proceeding, which falling from such lovely Eyes,
had a Magnetick Influence to draw the same from every beholder; but
D’ELMONT who knew that was not the way to Comfort her, dry’d his as soon
as possible, and once more beg’d she wou’d depart; suffer my return then
(answer’d she) to the Monastery, for what have I to do in _Paris_ since
I have lost my Father? By no means, Madam (resum’d the _Count_ hastily)
that were to disappoint your Fathers Designs, and contradict his last
Desires; believe most lovely MELLIORA (continu’d he taking her by the
Hand and letting fall some Tears which he cou’d not restrain, upon it)
that I bear at least an equal Share in your Affliction, and lament for
you, and for my self: Such a regard my grateful Soul paid _Monsieur_
FRANKVILLE for all his wondrous Care and Goodness to me, that in his
Death methinks I am twice an Orphan. But Tears are fruitless to reinspire
his now cold Clay, therefore must transmit the Love and Duty I owed him
living, to his Memory Dead, and an exact performance of his Will; and
since he thought me worthy of so vast a Trust as MELLIORA, I hope she
will be guided by her Fathers Sentiments, and believe that D’ELMONT (tho’
a Stranger to her) has a Soul not uncapable of Friendship. Friendship!
Did I say? (rejoyn’d he softning his Voice) that term is too mean to
express a Zeal like mine, the Care, the Tenderness, the Faith, the fond
Affection of Parents,---Brothers, ---Husbands,---Lovers, all Compriz’d
in one! One great Unutterable! Comprehensive Meaning, is mine! for
MELLIORA! She return’d no Answer but Sighs, to all he said to her; but
he renewing his Entreaties, and urging her Father’s Commands, she was at
last prevail’d upon to go into his Chariot, which had waited at the Door
all the Time of his being there.
As they went, he left nothing unsaid that he believ’d might tend to
her Consolation, but she had Griefs which at present he was a Stranger
to; and his Conversation, in which she found a thousand Charms, rather
Encreas’d, than Diminish’d the trouble she was in: Every Word, every Look
of his, was a fresh Dagger to her Heart, and in spight of the Love she
bore her Father, and the unfeign’d Concern his sudden Death had given
her, she was now convinc’d that COUNT D’ELMONT’S Perfections were her
severest Wounds.
When they came to his House, He presented her to ALOVISA, and giving her
a brief Account of what had happened, engag’d that Lady to receive her
with all imaginable Demonstrations of Civility and Kindness.
He soon left the two Ladies together, pretending Business, but indeed to
satisfie his Impatience, which long’d for an opportunity to meditate on
this Adventure. But his Reflections were now grown far less pleasing than
they used to be; real Sighs flew from his Breast uncall’d: And MELLIORA’S
Image in dazling Brightness! In terrible Array of killing Charms; Fir’d
Him with (impossible to be attain’d) Desires: he found by sad Experience
what it was to Love, and to Despair. He Admir’d! Ador’d! And wish’d, even
to Madness! Yet had too much Honour, too much Gratitude for the Memory
of Monsieur FRANKVILLE; and too sincere an Awe for the lovely Cause of
his Uneasiness, to form a Thought that cou’d encourage his new Passion.
What wou’d he not have given to have been Unmarried? How often did he
Curse the Hour in which ALOVISA’S fondness was discover’d? And how much
more his own Ambition, which prompted him to take Advantage of it, and
hurry’d him Precipitately to a Hymen, where Love, (the noblest Guest) was
wanting? It was in these racks of Thought, that the unfortunate AMENA was
remembr’d, and he cou’d not forbear acknowledging the Justice of that
Doom, which inflicted on him, these very Torments he had given her. A
severe Repentance seiz’d on his Soul, and ALOVYSA for whom he never had
any thing more than an Indifferency; now began to seem Distasteful to his
Fancy, he look’d on her, as indeed she was, the chief Author of AMENA’S
Misfortunes, and abhorr’d her for that Infidelity. But when he consider’d
her, as the Bar ’twixt Him and MELLIORA she appear’d like his ill Genius
to him, and he cou’d not support the Thoughts of being oblig’d to love
her (or at least to seem as if he did) with Moderation. In the midst of
these Reflections his Servant came in and deliver’d a Letter to him which
had been just left by the Post. The COUNT immediately knew the Hand to be
AMENA’S, and was cover’d with the utmost Confusion and Remorse when he
read these Lines.
[Illustration]
To the too Charming and Perfidious D’ELMONT.
_Now Hopes, and Fears, and Jealousies are over! Doubt is no
more! You are for ever lost! And my unfaithful, happy Rival!
Triumphs in your Arms, and my Undoing!----I need not wish
you Joy, the haste you made to enter into Hymen’s Bonds, and
the more than ordinary Pomp with which that Ceremony was
Celebrated, assures me you are highly satisfied with your
Condition; and that any future Testimonies of the Friendship
of so wretched a Creature as AMENA, wou’d be receiv’d by you,
with the same Disregard, as those she has given you of a more
tender Passion.----Shameful Remembrance! Oh that I cou’d Blot
it out!----Erace from the Book of Time those fond deluded
Hours! Forget I ever saw the Lovely false D’ELMONT! Ever
listned to his soft persuasive Accents! And thought his love
a mighty Price for Ruin------My Father writes that you are
Married, Commands my Return to Paris, and assume an Air as Gay,
and Chearful as that with which I used to appear.----Alas! How
little does he know his Daughters Heart? And how impossible
is it, for me to Obey him, can I look on you as the Husband
of ALOVYSA, without remembring you were once the Lover of
AMENA? Can Love like mine, so fierce, so passionately, tender,
e’re sink to a calm, cold Indifference? Can I behold the fond
Endearments of your bridal Joys (which you’d not be able to
Restrain, even before me) and not burst with Envy? No, the
Sight wou’d turn me quite Distracted, and I shou’d commit some
Desperate Violence that wou’d Undoe us all.---Therefore, I hide
my self for ever from it, bid an everlasting Adieu to all the
gay Delights and Pleasures of my Youth.-----To all the Pomp
and Splendor of the Court.-----To all that the mistaken World
calls Happiness.---To Father, Friends, Relations, all that’s
Dear----But your Idea, and that, not even these consecrated
Walls, nor Iron Gates keep out; Sleeping or Waking you are
ever with me, you mingle with my most solemn Devotions; and
while I Pray to Heaven that I may think on you no more, a
guilty Pleasure rises in my Soul, and contradicts my Vows! All
my Confessions are so many Sins, and the same Breath which
tells my Ghostly Father I abjure your Memory, speaks your dear
Name with Transport. Yes----Cruel! Ungrateful!---Faithless
as you are, I still do Love you----Love you to that infinite
degree, that now, methinks fir’d with thy Charms (repenting
all I’ve said) I cou’d wish even to renew those Moments of my
Ruin!----Pity me D’ELMONT, if thou hast Humanity.-----Judge
what the rackings of my Soul must be, when I resolve, with all
this Love, this Languishment about me; never to see you more._
_Every thing is preparing for my Reception into holy Orders,
(how unfit I am Heaven knows) and in a few Days I shall put on
the Vail which excludes me from the World for ever; therefore,
if these distracted Lines are worth an Answer, it must be
Speedy, or it will not come to my Hands. Perhaps not find me
Living.-----I can no more-----Farewel (thou dear Destroyer of
my Soul)_
_Eternally Farewel_, AMENA.
_P.S._ _I_ do not urge you to write, _Alovisa_ (I wish I
cou’d not say your Wife) will perhaps think it too great
a Condescention, and not suffer you so long from her
Embraces.----Yet if you can get loose.----But you know best
what’s proper to be done----Forgive the restlesness of a
dispairing Wretch, who cannot cease to Love, tho’ from this
Moment she must cease to tell you so---Once more, and for Ever,
Adieu.
Had this Letter came a Day sooner, ’tis probable it wou’d have had but
little Effect on the Soul of D’ELMONT, but his Sentiments of Love were
now so wholly chang’d, that what before he wou’d but have laugh’d at, and
perhaps despis’d, now fill’d him with Remorse and serious Anguish. He
read it over several Times, and found so many Proofs in it of a sincere
and constant Affection, that he began to pity Her, with a Tenderness like
that of a Relation, but no more: The charming MELLIORA had Engross’d all
his fonder Wishes; else it is not impossible but that ALOVISA might have
had more Reason to fear her Rivalship after Marriage, than before. That
Lady having been without the presence of her dear Husband some Hours,
had not patience to remain any longer without seeing Him, and making an
excuse to MELLIORA for leaving her alone, came running to the Closet
where he was; how unwelcome she was grown, the Reader may imagine, he
receiv’d her, not as he was wont; the Gaity which used to sparkle in his
Eyes, (at once declaring, and creating Amorous desires) now gave Place to
a sullen Gloominess, he look’d not on her, or if by chance he did; ’twas
more with Anger than with Love, in spite of his endeavours to conceal it,
she was too quick sighted (as all are that truly Love) not to be sensible
of this Alteration. However she took no notice of it, but Kissing
and Embracing him (according to her Custom whenever they were alone)
beg’d him to leave his solitary Amusement, and help her to Comfort the
afflicted Lady he brought there. Her Endearments serv’d but to encrease
his Peevishness, and heighten her Surprize at his Behaviour; and indeed,
the Moment that she enter’d the Closet was the last of her Tranquility.
When with much perswasions she had prevail’d with him to go with her into
the Room where MELLIORA was, he appeared so disorder’d at the second
Sight of that Charmer, as wou’d certainly have let ALOVYSA into the
secret of his Passion, had she not been retir’d to a Window to recover
herself from the Confusion her Husbands coldness had thrown her in,
and by that fortunate disregard of his Looks at that critical Instant,
given him (who never wanted presence of Mind) leave to form both his
Countenance and manner of Address, so as to give no suspicion of the
Truth.
This little Company was very far from being Entertaining to one another;
every one had their particular Cogitations, and were not displeas’d not
to be Interrupted in them. It growing late, ALOVYSA conducted MELLIORA to
a Chamber which she had order’d to be prepar’d for her, and then retir’d
to her own, hoping that when the COUNT shou’d come to Bed, she might be
able to make some Discovery of the Cause of his Uneasiness. But she was
deceiv’d, he spoke not to her, and when by a thousand little Inventions
she urg’d him to reply to what she said, it was in such a fashion as
only let her see, that he was extreamly troubled at something, but cou’d
not guess at what. As soon as Day broke, he rose, and shutting himself
into his Closet, left her in the greatest Consternation imaginable; she
cou’d not think it possible that the Death of _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE
shou’d work this Transformation, and knew of no other Misfortune that had
happened. At last she remembred she had heard one of the Servants say, a
Letter was brought to their Master by the Post, and began to reflect on
every Thing (in the power of _Fortune_ to determine) that cou’d threaten
a Disturbance, yet was still as ignorant as ever. She lay not long in
Bed, but putting on her Cloaths with more Expedition than usual went
to the Closet, resolving to speak to him in a manner as shou’d oblige
him to put an end to the uncertainty she was in, but finding the Door
lock’d, her Curiosity made her look thro’ the Keyhole, and she saw him
sometimes very intirely reading a Letter, and sometimes writing, as tho’
it were an Answer to it. A sudden Thought came into her Head, and she
immediately went softly from the place where she was, without knocking
at the Door, and stay’d in a little Chamber adjacent to it, where none
could pass to, or from the Closet without being perceiv’d by her; she had
not waited long, before she heard the _Count_ Ring, and presently saw a
Servant enter, and soon after return with a Letter in his Hand; she wou’d
not speak to him then, for fear of being over heard by her Husband, but
followed him down Stairs, and when he came towards the bottom, call’d
to him in a low Voice to tarry ’till she came to him; the Fellow durst
not but Obey, and there being no body near ’em, commanded him to deliver
her the Letter: But he either afraid or unwilling to betray his Trust,
excus’d himself from it as well as he cou’d, but she was resolv’d to have
it; and when Threats wou’d not avail, condescended to Entreaties, to
which she added Bribes, which last Article join’d to the promise she made
of never revealing it, won him to her Purpose. She had scarce patience
to forbear opening it before she got to her Chamber: The Superscription
(which she saw was for AMENA) fir’d her with Disdain and Jealousie, and
it is hardly possible to imagine, much less to describe the Torrent of
her Indignation, when she found that it contain’d these Words.
[Illustration]
To the Lovely AMENA.
_You accuse me of Cruelty, when at the same Time you kill
me with yours: How Vile! How despicable, must I be grown in
your Opinion, when you believe I can be Happy, when you are
Miserable?---Can I enjoy the Pleasures of a Court, while you
are shut within a Cloyster?----Shall I suffer the World to
be depriv’d of such a Treasure as AMENA? For the Crime of
worthless D’ELMONT-----No, no Fair, injur’d Softness, Return,
and bless the Eyes of every Beholder! Shine out again in your
native Lustre, uneclips’d by Grief, the Star of Beauty and
the guide of Love.---And, if my unlucky Presence will be a
Damp to the Brightness of your Fires, I will for ever quit the
Place.----Tho’ I cou’d wish, you’d give me leave sometimes to
gaze upon you, and draw some hop’d Presages of future Fortune
from the Benignity of your Influence,---Yes, AMENA, I wou’d
sigh out my Repentance at your Feet, and try at least to obtain
a Pardon for my Infidelity.----For, ’tis true, what you have
heard,----I am Marry’d---But oh AMENA! Happiness is not always
an Attendant on HYMEN.--However, I yet may call you Friend--I
yet may Love you, tho’ in a different way from what I once
pretended to; and believe me, that the Love of Souls, as it
is the most uncommon, especially in our Sex, so ’tis the most
refin’d and noble of all Passions, and such a Love shall be
for ever yours. Even ALOVISA (who has robb’d you of the rest)
cannot justly resent my giving you that part,----You’ll wonder
at this Alteration in my Temper, but ’tis sincere, I am no
more the Gay, the Roving D’ELMONT, and when you come to PARIS,
perhaps you will find me in a Condition more liable to your
Pity than Indignation. What shall I say AMENA? My Crime is my
Punishment, I have offended against Love, and against you, and
am, if possible, as Miserable, as Guilty: Torn with Remorse,
and Tortur’d with----I cannot----must not Name it----but ’tis
something which can be term’d no other than the utmost severity
of my Fate.---Haste then to Pity me, to comfort, to advise
me, if (as you say) you yet retain any remains of your former
Tenderness for this Ungrateful Man_,
D’ELMONT.
Ungrateful indeed! Cry’d ALOVISA (Transported with Excess of Rage and
Jealousie) Oh the Villain!---What Miseries! What Misfortunes are these
thou talk’st of? What Unhappiness has waited on thy _Himen_? ’Tis I alone
am wretched! base Deceiver!