Indignation she was in, she began to read it over again, and indeed the
more she consider’d the meaning of what she read, the more her Passions
swell’d, ’till they got at last the entire Dominion of her Reason: She
tore the Letter in a thousand pieces, and was not much less unmerciful
to her Hair and Garments. ’Tis possible, that in the Violence of her
Fury, she might have forgot her promise to the Servant, to vent some part
of it on her Husband, if her Woman coming into the Room to know if she
was ready to dress, had not prevented her, by telling her the _Count_
was gone abroad, and had left Word, that he shou’d not return ’till
the Evening. ALOVISA had thrown herself on the Bed, and the Curtains
being drawn discover’d not the disorder she was in, and which her Pride
made her willing shou’d be still a Secret, therefore dismist her with
saying, she wou’d call her when she wanted any thing. Tho’ ALOVISA
was too apt to give a loose to her Passions on every occasion, to the
Destruction of her own Peace, yet she knew well enough how to disguise
’em, when ever she found the Concealing of them wou’d be an Advantage
to her Designs: And when the Transports of her Rage was so far over, as
to give her Liberty of Reflection, and she began to Examine the State
of her Affection to the _Count_, she soon perceiv’d it had so much the
better of all other Considerations, that in spite of the injustice she
thought him guilty of to her, she cou’d not perswade her self to do any
thing that might give him a pretence to Quarrel with her. She thought
she had done enough in Intercepting this Letter, and did not doubt but
that AMENA wou’d take his not writing to her so much to Heart, as to
prevent her ever returning to _Paris_, and resolv’d to omit nothing of
her former Endearments, or make a shew of being in the least disoblig’d;
this sort of Carriage she imagin’d wou’d not only lay him more open and
unguarded to the diligent watch she design’d to make on all his Words
and Actions, but likewise awaken him to a just Sense of her Goodness,
and his own Ingratitude.-----She rightly judg’d that when People are
Marry’d, Jealousie was not the proper Method to revive a decay’d Passion,
and that after Possession it must be only Tenderness, and constant
Assiduity to please, that can keep up desire, fresh and gay: Man is too
Arbitrary a Creature to bear the least Contradiction, where he pretends
an absolute Authority, and that Wife who thinks by ill humour and
perpetual Taunts, to make him weary of what she wou’d reclaim him from,
only renders her self more hateful, and makes that justifiable which
before was blameable in him. These, and the like Considerations made
ALOVYSA put on a Countenance of Serenity, and she so well acted the part
of an Unsuspecting Wife, that D’ELMONT was far from imagining what she
had done: However he still behav’d with the same Caution as before, to
MELLIORA; and certainly never did People disguise the Sentiments of their
Souls more artfully than did these three---MELLIORA vail’d her secret
Languishments, under the Covert of her grief for her Father, the COUNT
his Burning anguish, in a gloomy Melancholy for the Loss of his Friend;
but ALOVYSA’S Task was much the hardest, who had no pretence for grief
(raging, and bleeding with neglected Love, and stifled Pride) to frame
her Temper to a seeming Tranquility----All made it their whole study
to deceive each other, yet none but ALOVYSA was intirely in the dark;
for the _Count_ and MELLIORA had but too true a guess at one another’s
meaning, every look of his, for he had Eyes that needed no Interpreter,
gave her Intelligence of his Heart, and the Confusion which the
understanding those looks gave her, sufficiently told him how sensible
she was of ’em.----Several Days they liv’d in this Manner, in which time
_Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE was Interr’d. Which Solemnity, the _Count_ took
care shou’d be perform’d with a Magnificence suitable to the Friendship
he publickly profest to have born him, and the secret Adoration his Soul
paid to his Remains.
Nothing happned of Moment,’till a Day or two after the Funeral, a
Gentleman newly arriv’d at _Paris_, came to visit the _Count_, and gave
him an Account of AMENA’S having taken the Habit; how, (said D’ELMONT
Interrupting him) is it possible?----Has she then profest? Yes, answer’d
the Gentleman, having a Sister whom I always tenderly lov’d at the
Monastery at St. _Dennis_, my affection oblig’d me to make it in my way
to visit her. AMENA was with her at the Grate, when she receiv’d me;
I know not how, among other Discourses, we hapned to talk of the fine
Gentlemen of _Paris_, which it was Impossible to do, without mentioning
Count D’ELMONT, the COUNT answer’d not this Complement as he wou’d have
done at another time, but only bowing with an humble Air, gave him
Liberty to prosecute his Discourse; the moment (resum’d he) that AMENA
heard your Name, the Tears run from her fair Eyes; in such abundance, and
she seem’d opprest with so violent a Grief, that she was not able to stay
any longer with us. When she was gone, my Sister whom she had made her
Confidant, gave me the History of her Misfortunes, and withal, told me,
that the next Day she was to be Initiated into Holy Orders: My Curiosity
engag’d me to stay at St. _Dennis_, to see the Ceremony perform’d, which
was Solemn; but not with that Magnificence which I expected; it seems it
was AMENA’S desire that it should be as private as possible, and for that
Reason, none of her Relations were there, and several of the Formalities
of Entrance omitted: After it was over, my Sister beckon’d me to come to
the Grate, where I saw her before, and Conjur’d me in the Name of her
new Sister, to give this to your Hands; in speaking these Words, he took
a Letter out of his Pocket, which the COUNT immediately opening, to his
great surprise, found it contain’d, as follows.
To the Inhuman D’ELMONT.
_To be pity’d by you, and that you shou’d tell me so, was all
the recompence I ask’d for Loss of Father, Friends, Reputation,
and Eternal Peace; but now, too late, I find that the fond
Maid who scorns the World for Love, is sure to meet for her
reward the scorn of him she Loves----Ungrateful Man! Cou’d you
not spare one Moment from that long Date of Happiness, to give
a last farewel to her you have undone? What wou’d not this
Barbarous Contempt have drawn upon you, were I of ALOVISA’S
Temper? Sure I am, all that disdain and rage, cou’d Inspire
Malice with, had been Inflicted on you, but you well know my
Soul is of a another Stamp.----Fool that I was, and little
vers’d in the base Arts of Man, believ’d I might by tenderness,
and faithful Friendship, gain esteem; tho’ Wit and Beauty the
two great Provocatives to create Love were wanting. But do not
think that I am yet so mean as to desire to hear from you; no,
I have put all future Correspondence with you out of my Power,
and hope to drive it even from my wish: Whether your disdain,
or the Holy Banner I am listed under, has wrought this Effect,
I know not, but methinks I breath another Air, think on you
with more Tranquility, and bid you without dying,_
Eternally Adieu, AMENA.
_P.S._ Let ALOVISA know I am no more her Rival, Heaven has my
Soul, and I forgive you both.
D’ELMONT was strangely fir’d at the reading these Lines, which left him
no Room to doubt that his Letter had miscarried, he could not presently
imagine by what means, but was resolv’d if possible, to find it out.
However, he dissembled his Thoughts ’till the Gentleman had taken his
leave; then calling for the Servant, whom he had entrusted with the
carrying it, he took him by the Throat, and holding his drawn Sword
directly to his Breast, swore that Moment should be his last, if he did
not immediately confess the Truth; the poor Fellow, frighted almost
to Death, trembling, and falling on his Knees, implor’d Forgiveness,
and discover’d all. ALOVISA who was in the next Chamber, hearing her
Husband call for that Servant, with a Tone somewhat more imperious than
what he was accustom’d to, and a great Noise soon after, imagin’d some
Accident had happen’d to betray her, and ran in to know the Certainty,
just as the _Count_ had discharg’d the Servant, at once from his Service
and his Presence. You have done well Madam (said D’ELMONT, looking on
her with Eyes sparkling with Indignation) you have done well, by your
impertinent Curiosity and Imprudence, to rouze me from my Dream of
Happiness, and remind me, that I am that wretched Thing a Husband! ’Tis
well indeed (answer’d ALOVISA, who saw now that there was no need of
farther Dissimulation) that any thing can make you remember, both what
you are, and what I am. You, (resum’d he, hastily interrupting her)
have taken an effectual Method to prove your self a Wife!----a very
Wife!----Insolent---Jealous---and Censorious!---But Madam (continued he
frowning) since you are pleas’d to assert your Priveledge, be assur’d, I
too shall take my turn, and will exert the---Husband! In saying this, he
flung out of the Room in spite of her Endeavours to hinder him, and going
hastily through a Gallery which had a large Window that looked into the
Garden, he perceived MELLIORA lying on a green Bank, in a melancholy,
but a charming Posture, directly opposite to the Place where he was; her
Beauties appear’d, if possible, more to Advantage than ever he had seen
them, or at least, he had more Opportunity thus unseen by her, to gaze
upon ’em; he in a Moment lost all the Rage of Temper he had been in, and
his whole Soul was taken up with softness; he stood for some Moments
fix’d in silent Admiration, but Love has small Dominion in a Heart, that
can content it self with a distant Prospect, and there being a Pair of
back-Stairs at the farther end of the Gallery, which led to the Garden.
He either forgot, or not regarded what Construction ALOVISA might make on
this private Interview, if by Chance, from any of the Windows she should
be Witness of it.
MELLIORA was so intent on a Book she had in her Hand, that she saw not
the _Count_ ’till he was close enough to her to discern what was the
Subject of her Entertainment, and finding it the Works of _Monsieur_
L’FONTENELLE; Philosophy, Madam, at your Age (said he to her with an Air,
which exprest surprize) is as wond’rous as your other Excellencies; but
I am confident, had this Author ever seen MELLIORA, his Sentiments had
been otherwise than now they seem to be, and he would have been able to
write of nothing else but Love and her. MELLIORA blush’d Extremely at his
unexpected Presence, and the Complement he made Her; but recollecting
her self as soon as she cou’d; I have a better Opinion of _Monsieur_
L’FONTENELLE, (answer’d she) but if I were really Mistress of as many
Charms as you wou’d make me believe, I should think my self little
beholding to Nature, for bestowing them on me, if by their means I were
depriv’d of so choice an Improvement as this Book has given me. Thank
Heaven, then Madam, (resum’d he) that you were born in an Age successive
to that which has produc’d so many fine Treatises of this kind for your
Entertainment; since (I am very Confident) this, and a long space of
future Time will have no other Theme, but that which at present you seem
so much averse to. MELLIORA found so much difficulty in endeavouring to
Conceal the disorder she was in at this Discourse, that it rendered her
unable to reply; and He, (who possibly guest the occasion of her silence)
taking one of her Hands and tenderly pressing it between his, look’d so
full in her Eyes, as heighten’d her Confusion, and discover’d to his
ravish’d View, what most he wish’d to find: Ambition, Envy, Hate, Fear,
or Anger, every other Passion that finds Entrance in the Soul; Art, and
Discretion, may Disguise, but Love, tho’ it may be feign’d, can never be
Conceal’d, not only the Eyes (those true and most Perfect Intelligencers
of the Heart) but every Feature, every Faculty betrays it! It fills the
whole Air of the Person possest with it; it wanders round the Mouth!
Plays in the Voice! trembles in the Accent! And shows it self a thousand
different, nameless ways! Even MELLIORA’S Care to hide it, made it more
apparent, and the Transported D’ELMONT not considering where he was, or
who might be a witness of his Rapture, cou’d not forbear catching her
in his Arms, and grasping her with an Extasie, which plainly told her
what his thoughts were, tho’ at that time he had not Power to put ’em
into Words; and indeed there is no greater proof of a vast and elegant
Passion, than the being uncapable of Expressing it:-----He had perhaps
held her in this strict embrace, ’till some Accident had discover’d and
separated him from her; if the Alarm this manner of Proceeding gave her
Modesty, had not made her force her self from him.---They both stood in
a silent Consternation, nor was he much less disorder’d at the Temerity,
the violence of his ungovernable Passion had made him guilty of, than
she was at the Liberty he had taken; he knew not how to Excuse, nor she,
to Reproach; Respect (the constant Attendant on a sincere Affection)
had tyed his Tongue, and shame mixed with the uncertainty after what
manner she shou’d resent it, Hers. At last, the Natural Confidence of
his Sex Encourag’d him to break this mute Entertainment,--There are
Times Madam (said he) in which the wisest have not Power over their own
Actions---If therefore I have offended, impute not the Crime to me, but
that unavoidable impulse which for a Moment hurry’d me from my self;
for be assured while D’ELMONT can Command his Thoughts, they shall be
most obedient to your Wishes----As MELLIORA was about to reply, she saw
a Servant coming hastily to speak to the COUNT, and was not a little
glad of so favourable an opportunity to retire without being oblig’d to
continue a Discourse in which she must either lay a severe Punishment on
her Inclinations by making a quarrel with him, or by forgiving him too
easily, Trespass against the strict Precepts of Virtue she had always
profess’d: She made what haste she cou’d into her chamber, and carry’d
with her a World of troubled Meditations, she now no longer doubted of
the COUNT’S Passion, and trembled with the Apprehension of what he might
in time be prompted to; but when she Reflected how dear that Person she
had so much cause to fear, was to her, she thought her self, at once the
most unfortunate and most Guilty of her Sex.
The Servant who gave ’em this seasonable Interruption delivered a Letter
to his Master, which he opening hastily, knowing that it came from his
Brother by the Seal, found the Contents as follows.
_I hop’d (my Dearest Friend, and Brother) by this day to have
Embrac’d you, but Fortune takes delight to disappoint our
wishes, when highest rais’d, and nearest to their Aim.----The
Letter I carry’d from her, whom I think it my Happiness to
call Sister, joyn’d with my own Faith, Love, and Assiduity; at
length Triumph’d over all the little niceties and objections
my Charmer made against our Journey, and she Condescended to
order every thing requisite for our departure from AMIENS
shou’d be got ready.----But how shall I Express the Grief, the
Horrour, the Distraction of my Soul, when the very Evening
before the Day we shou’d have set out, as I was sitting with
her, a sudden, but terrible Illness, like the Hand of Death
seiz’d on her, she fell (oh! my Brother) Cold, and Speechless
in my Arms------Guess, what I endur’d at that Afflicting
Moment, all that I had of Man, or Reason left me; and sure
had not the Care of the Baroness and some other Ladies (whom
my Cries drew in to her Assistance) in a little time recover’d
her, I had not now surviv’d to give you this Account: Again,
I saw the Beauties of her Eyes! again, I heard her Voice, but
her Disorder was yet so great, that it was thought convenient
she should be put to Bed; the Baroness seeing my Despair,
desired me not to quit her House, and by that Means I had
News every Hour, how her Fevor encreas’d, or abated, for the
Physicians being desir’d to deal freely, assur’d us, that was
her Distemper: For several Days she continued in a Condition
that could give us no Hopes of her Recovery; in which Time,
as you may imagine, I was little capable of Writing.-----The
wildness of my unruly Grief, made me not be permitted to come
into her Chamber; but they cou’d not, without they had made
use of Force, hinder me from lying at her Door: I counted all
her Groans, heard every Sigh the Violence of her Pain drew
from her, and watch’d the Countenance of every Person who came
out of her Chamber, as Men who wou’d form a Judgment of future
Consequences, do the Signs in Heaven.----But I trouble you with
this tedious recital, she is now, if there is any Dependance
on the Doctors Skill, past Danger, tho’ not fit to Travel,
at least this Month, which gives no small Aleviation to the
greatness of my Joys (which otherwise wou’d be unbounded) for
her Recovery, since it occasions so long a Separation from the
best of Brothers, and of Friends: Farewell, may all your Wishes
meet Success, and an Eternal round of Happiness attend you; to
add to mine, I beg you’ll write by the first Post, which, next
to seeing you, is the greatest I can Taste. I am, my Lord, with
all imaginable Tenderness and Respect, your most Affectionate
Brother and Humble Servant,_
BRILLIAN.
The _Count_ judg’d it proper that ALOVISA shou’d see this Letter, because
it so much concern’d her Sister, and was ordering the Servant to carry
it to her, (not being himself willing to speak to her) just as she was
coming towards him: She had receiv’d a Letter from the _Baroness_ DE
BERONVILL, at the same time that the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S was brought,
and was glad to take the Opportunity of Communicating the Contents of
it, in hopes by this Conversation, to be reconcil’d to her Husband: But
the gloomy Sullenness of the Humour he had left her with, return’d at
Sight of her, and after some little Discourse of Family Affairs, which
he could not avoid answering, walk’d carelesly away: She follow’d him at
a distance, ’till he was got up to the Gallery, and perceiving he went
toward his Closet, mended her Pace, and was close to him when he was
going in. My Lord, (said she) with a Voice but half assured, and which
would not have given her leave to utter more, if he had not interrupted
her, by telling her he would be alone, and shutting the Door hastily upon
her, but she prevented his Locking of it, by pushing against it with all
her Force, and he, not exerting his, for fear of hurting her, suffer’d
her Entrance: But look’d on her with a Countenance so forbidding, as in
spite of the natural Haughtiness of her Temper, and the Resolution she
had made to speak to him, render’d her unable for some Moments to bring
forth a Word; but the silent Grief, which appear’d in her Face, pleaded
more with the good Nature of the _Count_, than any thing she could have
said: He began to pity the unhappiness of her too violent Affection, and
to wish himself in a Capacity of returning it, however, he (like other
Husbands) thought it best to keep up his Resentments, and take this
Opportunity of Quelling all the _Woman_ in her Soul, and humbling all
the little Remains of Pride that Love had left her. Madam, (resum’d he)
with an Accent, which tho’ something more softned, was still imperious
enough, if you have any Thing of Consequence to impart to me, I desire
you will be as brief as you can, for I would be left to the Freedom of
my Thoughts---ALOVISA cou’d not yet answer, but letting fall a Shower
of Tears, and throwing her self on the Ground, Embrac’d his Knees with
so Passionate a Tenderness, as sufficiently exprest her Repentance for
having been guilty of any thing to disoblige him: D’ELMONT was most
sensibly touch’d at this Behaviour, so vastly different from what he
cou’d have expected from the greatness of her Spirit, and raising her
with an obliging Air. I am sorry (said he) that any thing should happen
to occasion this Submission, but since what’s past, is out of either of
our Powers to recall: I shall endeavour to think of it no more, provided
you’ll promise me, never for the future to be guilty of any thing which
may give me an uneasiness by the sight of yours----’Tis impossible to
represent the Transport of ALOVISA at this kind Expression, she hung upon
his Neck, kissed the dear Mouth which had pronounc’d her Pardon, with
Raptures of unspeakable Delight, she sigh’d with Pleasure, as before
she had done with Pain, she wept, she even dy’d with Joy!----No, no, my
Lord, my Life, my Angel, (cry’d she, as soon as she had Power to speak)
I never will Offend you more, no more be Jealous, no more be doubtful of
my Happiness! You are!--you will be only mine, I know you will----Your
kind Forgiveness of my Folly, assures me that you are mine, not more by
Duty than by Love! A Tye far more valuable than that of Marriage. The
_Count_ conscious of her Mistake, had much ado to conceal his Disorder
at these Words, and being unwilling she should proceed; as soon as he
could (without seeming unkind or rude) disingag’d himself from her Arms,
and took a Pen in his Hand, which he told her he was about to employ in
answering the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S Letter; ALOVISA who now resolv’d an
entire Obedience to his Will, and remembring he had desired to be alone,
withdrew, full of the Idea of an imagin’d Felicity----Her Heart was now
at ease, she believ’d, that if her Husband had any Remains of Passion for
AMENA, the impossibility of ever seeing her again, would soon extinguish
them, and since she was so happily reconcil’d, was far from repenting her
intercepting of his Letter: But poor Lady, she did not long enjoy this
Peace of Mind, and this Interval of Tranquility serv’d but to heighten
her ensuing Miseries.
The _Count’s_ secret Passion for MELLIORA grew stronger by his
endeavouring to suppress it, and perceiving that she carefully avoided
all Opportunities of being alone with him one Moment, since his Behaviour
to her in the Garden, he grew almost Distracted with the continual
Restraint he was forc’d to put on all his Words and Actions: He durst not
Sigh nor send an amorous Glance, for fear of offending her, and alarming
his Wive’s Jealousy, so lately lull’d to Sleep: He had no Person in whom
he had Confidence enough to trust with his Misfortune, and had certainly
sunk under the Pressure of it, if ALOVISA, who observing an Alteration
in his Countenance and Humour, fearing he was really indispos’d (which
was the excuse he made for his Melancholly) had not perswaded him to go
into the Country, hoping that change of Air might do him good: He had a
very fine Seat near _Anjerville_ in the Province of _Le Beausse_, which
he had not been at for some Years, and he was very willing to comply with
ALOVISA’S Desires of passing the remainder of the Summer in a Solitude,
which was now become agreeable to him; the greatest Difficulty was, in
perswading MELLIORA to accompany them thither; he guess’d by her reserv’d
Behaviour, that she only waited an Opportunity to leave the Place where
he was, and was not mistaken in his Conjecture: One Day as they were
talking of it, she told them she was resolv’d to return to the Monastery
where she had been Educated, that the World was too noisy a Place for
one of her Taste, who had no relish for any of the Diversions of it:
Every Word she spoke, was like a Dagger to D’ELMONT’S Heart; yet, he so
artfully manag’d his Endeavours, between the Authority of a Guardian,
and the Entreaties of a Friend, that she was at last overcome. ’Tis
hard for the severest Virtue to deny themselves the Sight of the Person
belov’d, and whatever Resolutions we make, there are but few, who like
MELLIORA might not by such a Lover be prevail’d upon to break them.