visited by all the Neighbouring People of Quality, but there was none
so welcome to D’ELMONT as the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY; they had before the
COUNT’S going into the Army been very intimate Acquaintance, and were
equally glad of this opportunity to renew a Friendship, which Time and
Absence had not entirely erac’d. The _Baron_ had a Sister young, and very
agreeable, but gay even to Coquetry; they liv’d together, being both
single, and he brought her with him, hearing the _Count_ was Married,
to visit his Lady: There were several other young Noble Men and Ladies
there, at the same time, and the Conversation grew so delightfully
Entertaining, that it was impossible for Persons less prepossest than
the COUNT and MELLIORA, to retain their _Chagrin_; but, tho’ there were
scarce any in the Company that might not have list’ned with a pleas’d
Attention, to what those two admirable Persons were capable of saying,
yet their secret Sorrows kept them both in silence, ’till MELANTHA, for
that was the Name of the _Barons_ Sister, took upon her to divert the
Company with some Verses on Love; which she took out of her Pocket-Book
and read to ’em: Every Body extoll’d the softness of the Stile, and
the Subject they were upon. But MELLIORA who was willing to take all
opportunities of Condemning that Passion, as well to conceal it in her
self as to check what ever hopes the _Count_ might have, now discovered
the force of her Reason, the Delicacy of her Wit, and the Penetration
of her Judgment, in a manner so sweetly surprizing to all that were
Strangers to her, that they presently found, that it was not want of
Noble, and truly agreeable Thoughts or Words to express ’em, that had
so long depriv’d them of the Pleasure of hearing her; she urg’d the
Arguments she brought against the giving way to Love, and the Danger of
all softning Amusements, with such a becoming fierceness, as made every
Body of the Opinion that she was born only to create Desire, not be
susceptible of it her self. The _Count_ as he was most Concern’d, took
the most particular Notice of all she said, and was not a little alarm’d
to see her appear so much in earnest, but durst not answer, or Endeavour
to confute her, because of ALOVYSA’S presence: But it was not long before
he had an opportunity, a few Days after he met with one, as full as he
cou’d wish. Returning one Evening from the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S, whom he
had now made the Confident of his Passion, and who had Encourag’d him in
it, he was told that ALOVYSA was gone out to take the Air, and hearing
no mention of MELLIORA’S being with her, he stay’d not to enquire, but
running directly to her Chamber, made his Eyes his best Informers: He
found her lying on a Couch in a most charming Dissabillee, she had but
newly come from Bathing, and her Hair unbraided, hung down upon her
Shoulders with a negligence more Beautiful than all the Aids of Art cou’d
form in the most exact _Decorum_ of Dress; part of it fell upon her Neck
and Breast, and with it’s Lovely Shadiness, being of a Delicate dark
Brown, set off to vast Advantage, the matchless whiteness of her Skin:
Her Gown and the rest of her Garments were white, and all ungirt, and
loosely flowing, discover’d a Thousand Beauties, which Modish Formalities
conceal. A Book lay open by her, on which she had reclin’d her Head, as
if been tir’d with Reading, she Blush’d at sight of the _Count_, and
rose from off the Couch with a Confusion which gave new Lustre to her
Charms, but he not permitting her to stir from the place she was in, sat
down by Her, and casting his Eyes on the Book which lay there, found it
to be _Ovid’s-Epistles_, How Madam (cry’d he, not a little pleas’d with
the Discovery) dare you, who the other Day so warmly inveigh’d against
Writings of this Nature, trust your self with so Dangerous an Amusement?
How happens it, that you are so suddenly come over to our Party? Indeed
my Lord (answer’d she, growing more disorder’d) it was Chance rather than
Choice, that directed this Book to my Hands, I am yet far from approving
Subjects of this Kind, and believe I shall be ever so: Not that I can
perceive any Danger in it, as to my self, the Retirement I have always
liv’d in, and the little Propensity I find to entertain a Thought of that
uneasie Passion, has hitherto secur’d me from any Prepossession, without
which, _Ovid_’s Art is Vain. Nay, Madam, reply’d the _Count_, now you
Contradict your former Argument, which was, that these sort of Books
were, as it were, Preparatives to Love, and by their softning Influence,
melted the Soul, and made it fit for amorous Impressions, and so far, you
certainly were in the right, for when once the Fancy is fixed on a real
Object, there will be no need of Auxillary Forces, the Dear Idea will
spread it self thro’ every Faculty of the Soul, and in a Moment inform
us better, than all the Writings of the most Experienc’d Poets, cou’d do
in an Age. Well, my Lord, (said she endeavouring to Compose her self) I
am utterly unambitious of any Learning this way, and shall endeavour to
retain in Memory, more of the Misfortunes that attended the Passion of
_Sappho_, than the Tender, tho’ never so Elegant Expressions it produc’d:
And if all Readers of Romances took this Method, the Votaries of _Cupid_
wou’d be fewer, and the Dominion of Reason more Extensive. You speak
(Answer’d D’ELMONT) as tho’ Love and Reason were Incompatible, there is
no Rule (said she) my Lord, without Exception, they are indeed sometimes
united, but how often they are at Variance, where may we not find Proofs,
History is full of them, and daily Examples of the many Hair-brain’d
Matches, and slips, much less excusable, sufficiently evince how little
Reason has to do in the Affairs of Love, I mean (continu’d she, with a
very serious Air) that sort of Love, for there are two, which hurries
People on to an immediate Gratification of their Desires, tho’ never so
prejudicial to themselves, or the Person they pretend to Love. Pray Madam
(said the _Count_ a little nettled at this Discourse) what Love is that
which seems at least to Merit the Approbation of a Lady so extreamly
nice? It has many Branches (reply’d she) in the first Place that which we
owe to Heaven, in the next to our King, our Country, Parents, Kindred,
Friends, and Lastly, that which Fancy inclines, and Reason guides us to,
in a Partner for Life, but here every Circumstance must agree, Parity
of Age, of Quality, of Fortune, and of Humour, Consent of Friends, and
Equal Affection in each other, for if any one of these particulars fail,
it renders all the rest of no Effect. Ah, Madam (cry’d the _Count_ not
able to suffer her to proceed). What share of Pity then can you afford to
a Man who, loves where almost all these Circumstances are wanting, and
what Advice wou’d you give a wretch so Curst? I wou’d have him _think_,
(said she more Gravely than before) How Madam, (resum’d he) think did
you say? Alas! ’Tis Thought that has undone him, that’s very possible
(answer’d she) but yet ’tis want of thinking justly, for in a Lovers Mind
Illusions seem Realities, and what at an other time wou’d be look’d on
as Impossible, appears easie then: They indulge, and feed their new-born
Folly with a prospect of a Hope, tho’ ne’re so distant a one, and in the
vain pursuit of it, fly Consideration, ’till dispair starts up in the
midway, and bar’s their promis’d View; whereas if they gave way to due
Reflection, the Vanity of the Attempt wou’d presently be shown, and the
same cause that bid ’em cease to hope, wou’d bid ’em cease to wish: Ah
Madam (said he) how little do you know of that Passion, and how easily
cou’d I disprove you by the Example of my Friend; despair and Love are
of an equal Age in him, and from the first Moment he beheld his Adorable
Charmer, he has Languished without the least mixture of a flattering
Hope. I Grant the Flames with which our Modern Gallants are ordinarily
animated, cannot long subsist without Fewel, but where Love is kindled
in a Generous Heart by a just Admiration of the real Merits of the Object
belov’d, Reason goes Hand in Hand with it, and makes it lasting as our
Life. In my Mind (answer’d MELLIORA Coldly) an Esteem so Grounded may
more properly be ascribed to Friendship, then be it so Madam, (rejoyn’d
the _Count_ briskly) Friendship and Love, where either are sincere, vary
but little in their meaning, there may indeed be some Distinctions in
their Ceremonies, but their Essentials are still the same: And if the
Gentleman I speak of were so happy as to hope his Friendship wou’d be
acceptable, I dare promise that he never wou’d complain his Love were
not so. You have a strange way (said she) to Confound Idea’s, which in
my Opinion are so vastly different, that I shou’d make no Difficulty in
granting my Friendship to as many of my Acquaintance, as had Merit to
deserve it; but if I were to Love in that general Manner, ’twould be a
Crime wou’d justly render me Contemptible to Mankind: Madam (replyed the
_Count_) when I spoke of the Congruity of Love and Friendship, I did
not mean that sort, which to me, seems unworthy of the Name of either,
but that Exalted one, which made _Orestes_ and _Pilades_, _Theseus_ and
_Perithous_ so Famous. That, which has no Reserve, no separate Interest,
or divided Thoughts, That which fills all,----gives all the Soul, and
esteems even Life a Trifle, to prove it self sincere----What can Love
do more than yield every thing to the object Belov’d? And Friendship
must do so too, or it is not Friendship! Therefore take heed fair
Angel (continu’d he, taking her Hand, and kissing it) how you Promise
Friendship, where you ne’re mean to Love: And observing she was Silent,
your Hand, (said he) your Lip, your Neck, your Breast, your All.----All
this whole Heaven of Beauty must be no longer in your own Disposal----All
is the Prize of Friendship! As much Confus’d as MELLIORA was, at these
Words, which gave her sufficient Reason to fear he wou’d now declare
himself more fully than she desir’d; she had Spirit and Resolution
enough to withdraw her Hand from his, and with a look, that spoke her
Meaning but too plainly for the repose of the Enamour’d D’ELMONT: I shall
take care my Lord (said she) how I Commence a Friendship with any Person
who shall make use of it to my Prejudice.
The _Count_ was now sensible of his Error in going so far, and fearing he
had undone himself in her Esteem by his rash Proceeding, thought it was
best at once to throw off a Disguise which, in spight of his Endeavours
wou’d fall off, of itself, and by making a bold and free Confession of
his real Sentiments, oblige her to a Discovery of hers.----I do not
doubt your Caution, Madam, (answer’d he) in this point: Your Reserved
Behaviour, even to me, convinces me, but too fully, how little you are
disposed to give, or receive any Proofs of Friendship: But perhaps
(continu’d he, with a deep sigh) my too presuming Eyes have rendred me a
suspected Person, and while you find in me the Wretch I have discrib’d,
you find nothing in me worthy of a happier Fortune; you are worthy every
thing my Lord, (said MELLIORA quite beside her self at these Words) nor
are you less happy than you deserve to be, and I wou’d rather that these
Eyes shou’d loose their sight than view you otherwise than now I see
you, blest in every Circumstance, the Darling of the World, the Idol of
the Court, and Favourite of Heaven! Oh stop! (Cry’d D’ELMONT hastily
Interrupting her) forbear to Curse me farther, rather Command my Death,
than wish the Continuance of my present Miseries. Cruel MELLIORA too
well, alas, you know what I have endur’d from the first fatal Moment I
beheld you, and only feign an Ignorance to distract me more: A Thousand
times you have read my Rising wishes, sparkling in my Eyes, and glowing
on my Cheeks, as often seen my Virtue struggling in silent Tremblings,
and Life-wasting Anguish to suppress desire. Nay, Madam (said he
Catching fast hold of both her Hands, seeing her about to rise) by all
my sleepless Nights, and restless Days, by all my countless burning
Agonies; by all the Torments of my gall’d, bleeding Heart, I swear,
that you shall hear me: I have heard too much (cry’d MELLIORA not able
to contain her self) and tho’ I am unwilling to believe you have any
farther aim in this Discourse than your Diversion, yet I must tell your
Lordship, that there are Themes more proper for it, than the Daughter
of your Friend, who was entrusted to your Care with a far different
Opinion of your Behaviour to her. What have I done (resum’d the almost
the Distracted _Count_, falling at her Feet, and grasping her Knees) what
have I done, Inhuman MELLIORA! To deserve this Rigour? My Honour has
hitherto prevail’d above desire, fierce, and raging as it is, nor had I
any other hopes by making this Declaration, than to meet that pity my
Misfortunes merit; and you cannot without Ingratitude deny: Pity, even
to Criminals is allow’d, and sure, where the offence is unvoluntary,
like mine, ’tis due: ’Tis impossible to guess the Conflict in MELLIORA’S
Breast at this Instant, she had heard a most Passionate Declaration of
Love from a married Man, and by Consequence, whatever his Pretences were,
cou’d look on his Designs no otherwise than aim’d at the Destruction
of her Honour, and was fir’d with a virtuous Indignation. But then she
saw in this married Man, the only Person in the World, who was capable
of Inspiring her with a tender Thought, she saw him reduc’d to the last
Extremity of Despair for her sake: She heard his sighs, she felt his
Tremblings as he held her, and cou’d not refrain shedding some Tears,
both for him, and for her self, who indeed suffer’d little less; but
the _Count_ was not so happy as to be Witness of this Testimony of her
Compassion: He had reclin’d his Head on her Lap, possibly to hide those
that forc’d their way thro’ his Eyes, at the same time; and ALOVISA’S
Voice which they heard below, giving them both an Alarm; they had no
further opportunity for Speech, and the _Count_ was but just gone out of
the Room, and MELLIORA laid on the Couch in the same careless Possture
which he had found her in; when ALOVISA enter’d the Chamber, and after
having a little pleasantly Reproach’d her, for being so lazy as not to
accompany her in the Walk she had been taking, ask’d her if she had not
seen the _Count_, who she had been told was come home: Poor MELLIORA
had much ado to conceal the Disorder she was in at this Question, but
recovering her self as well as she could, answer’d in the Affirmative;
but that he had not staid there longer than to enquire where she was
gone, and that she knew not but he might be gone in search of her: This
was enough to make ALOVISA take her leave, impatient for the Sight of her
dear Lord, a Happiness she had not enjoy’d since Morning, but she was
disappointed of her Hope. The _Count_, as late as it was in the Evening,
went into his Chaise, which had not been set up since he came from the
_Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S and drove thither again with all the Speed he could.
The _Baron_ was extreamly surpriz’d at his sudden Return, and with so
much Confusion and Melancholy in his Countenance. But much more so, when
he had given him an Account of what had pass’d between him and MELLIORA
and cou’d not forbear rallying him excessively on the Occasion. What,
said he, a Man of Wit, and Pleasure like _Count_ D’ELMONT a Man, who
knows the Sex so well, could he let slip so favourable an Opportunity
with the finest Woman in the World; One, for whose Enjoyment he wou’d
Die.----Cou’d a Frown, or a little angry Coyness, (which ten to one was
but affected) have Power to freeze such fierce Desires. The _Count_ was
not at present in a Humour to relish this Merriment, he was too seriously
in Love to bear that any thing relating to it, should be turn’d into
Ridicule, and was far from repenting he had done no more, since what
he had done, had occasion’d her Displeasure: But the _Baron_, who had
Designs in his Head, which he knew cou’d not by any means be brought
to succeed, but by keeping the _Count’s_ Passion warm, made Use of all
the Artifice he was Master of, to embolden this respective Lover, to
the Gratification of his Wishes: And growing more grave than he had
been, My Lord, said he, you do not only injure the Dignity of our Sex in
general, but your own Merits in particular, and perhaps even MELLIORA’S
secret Inclinations, by this unavailing distant Carriage: and causeless
Despair.----Have you not confess’d that she has look’d on you with a
Tenderness, like that of Love, that she has blush’d at your Sight, and
trembled at your Touch?----What would you more that she should do, or
what indeed, can she do more, in Modesty, to prove her Heart is yours?
A little Resolution on your side would make her all yours----Women are
taught by Custom to deny what most they covet, and to seem Angry, when
they are best Pleas’d; believe me, D’ELMONT, that the most rigid Virtue
of ’em all, never yet hated a Man for those Faults, which Love occasions:
All this answer’d the _Count_, is what I readily agree to:---But O her
Father’s Memory! My Obligation to him! Her Youth and Innocence are
Daggers to my cool Reflections---Wou’d it not be Pity (_D’espernay!_
continued he with a deep Sigh) even if she shou’d consent, to ruin so
much Sweetness? The _Baron_ could not forbear laughing at these Words,
and the _Count_ who had started these Objections, only with the Hope of
having them remov’d, easily suffer’d himself to be perswaded to follow
his Inclinations; and it was soon concluded betwixt them, that on the
first Opportunity, MELLIORA should fall a Sacrifice to Love.
The _Count_ came not Home ’till the next Morning, and brought the _Baron_
with him, for they were now become inseparable Friends: At his return, he
found ALOVISA in a very ill Humour for his being abroad all Night, and
in spite of the Resolution she had made of shewing a perfect Resignation
to her Husband’s Will, could not forbear giving him some Hints, how
unkindly she took it, which he but little regarded, all his Thoughts
were now bent on the gaining MELLIORA. But that Lady alarm’d at his late
Behaviour, and with Reason, doubting her own Power of resenting it as she
ought, or indeed resisting any future Attempts he might make, feign’d the
necessity of performing some private Rules of Devotion, enjoyn’d her as a
Pennance, and kept her Chamber that she might not see him.
The Disquietudes of D’ELMONT for being forc’d to live, but for three
or four Days without the happiness of beholding her, convinc’d him how
impossible it was for him to overcome his Passion, tho’ he should never
so vigorously endeavour it, and that whatever Method he shou’d make use
of to satisfy it, might be excus’d by the Necessity.
What is it that a Lover cannot accomplish when Resolution is on his Side?
D’ELMONT after having formed a Thousand fruitless Inventions, at last
pitch’d on One, which promis’d him an assurance of Success: In MELLIORA’S
Chamber there was a little Door that open’d to a Pair of Back Stairs,
for the Convenience of the Servants coming to clean the Room, and at the
Bottom of that Descent, a Gate into the Garden. The _Count_ set his Wits
to work, to get the Keys of those two Doors; that of the Garden stood
always in it, nor cou’d he keep it without its being miss’d at Night,
when they shou’d come to fasten the Gate, therefore he carefully took
the Impression in Wax, and had one made exactly like it: The other he
cou’d by no means compass without making some excuse to go to MELLIORA’S
Chamber, and she had desired that none might visit her: But he overcome
this Bar to his Design at last; there was a Cabinet in it, where he told
ALOVISA he had put some Papers of great Concern, which now he wanted to
look over, and desired she would make an Apology for his coming in, to
fetch them. MELLIORA imagin’d this was only a Pretence to see her, but
his Wife being with him, and he saying nothing to her, or taking any
further notice than what common Civility required, was not much troubled
at it. While ALOVISA was paying a Complement to the Recluse, he was
dext’rous enough to slip the Key out of the Door, unperceiv’d by either
of them.
As soon as he had got the Passport to his expected Joys in his
Possession, he order’d a couple of Saddle Horses to be made ready, and
only attended by one Servant, rid out, as if to take the Air; but when
they were got about two or three Miles from his House, Commanded him to
return and tell his Lady, that he should lye that Night at the _Baron_
D’ESPERNAY’S, the Fellow obey’d, and clapping Spurs to his Horse, was
immediately lost in a Cloud of Dust.
D’ELMONT had sent this Message to prevent any of the Family sitting
up expecting him, and instead of going to the _Barons_, turn’d short,
and went to _Angerville_, where meeting with some Gentlemen of his
Acquaintance, he pass’d the Hours ’till between Twelve and One, as
pleasantly as his Impatience to be with MELLIORA would give him leave:
He had not much above a Furlong to ride, and his Desires made him not
spare his Horse, which he ty’d by the Bridle, hot and foaming as he was,
to a huge Oak, which grew pretty near his Garden; it was incompass’d
only with a Hedge, and that so low, that he got over it without any
Difficulty; he look’d carefully about him, and found no Tell-tale Lights
in any of the Rooms, and concluding all was as hush’d as he cou’d wish,
open’d the first Door, but the encreasing Transports of his Soul, as he
came up Stairs, to be so near the end of all his Wishes, are more easily
imagin’d than express’d; but as violent as they were, they presently
receiv’d a vast Addition, when he came into the happy Chamber, and by a
most delightfull Gloom, a Friend to Lovers, (for it was neither Dark nor
Light), he beheld the lovely MELLIORA in her Bed, and fast asleep, her
Head was reclin’d on one of her Arms; a Pillow softer and whiter far than
that it lean’d on, the other was stretch’d out, and with its extension
had thrust down the Bed-cloths so far, that all the Beauties of her Neck
and Breast appear’d to View. He took an inexpressible Pleasure in gazing
on her as she lay, and in this silent Contemplation of her thousand
Charms, his Mind was agitated with various Emotions, and the resistless
Posture he beheld her in, rouz’d all that was honourable in him, he
thought it Pity even to wake her, but more to wrong such Innocence; and
he was sometimes prompted to return and leave her as he found her.
But whatever Dominion, Honour and Virtue may have over our waking
Thoughts, ’tis certain that they fly from the clos’d Eyes, our Passions
then exert their forceful Power, and that which is most Predominant in
the Soul, agitates the Fancy, and brings even Things impossible to pass:
Desire, with watchful Diligence repell’d, returns with greater Violence
in unguarded Sleep, and overthrows the vain Efforts of Day. MELLIORA in
spite of her self, was often happy in Idea, and possess’d a Blessing
which Shame and Guilt deter’d her from in reality. Imagination at this
Time was active, and brought the charming Count much nearer than indeed
he was, and he, stooping to the Bed, and gently laying his Face close
to hers, (possibly designing no more than to steal a Kiss from her,
unperceiv’d) that Action concurring at that Instant with her Dream, made
her throw her Arm (still slumbering) about his Neck, and in a soft and
languishing Voice, cry out, O! D’ELMONT, cease, cease to Charm, to such a
height----Life cannot bear these Raptures!---And then again Embracing him
yet closer,---O! too, too lovely _Count_---Extatick Ruiner!
Where was now the Resolution he was forming some Moments before? If he
had now left her, some might have applauded an Honour so uncommon, but
more wou’d have condemn’d his Stupidity, for I believe there are very
few Men, how Stoical soever they pretend to be, that in such a tempting
Circumstance would not have lost all Thoughts, but those, which the
present Opportunity inspir’d. That he did, is most certain, for he tore
open his Wastecoat, and joyn’d his panting Breast to hers, with such a
tumultuous Eagerness! Seiz’d her with such a rapidity of transported
Hope-crown’d Passion, as immediately wak’d her from an imaginary
Felicity, to the Approaches of a solid one. Where have I been (said she,
just opening her Eyes) where am I?---(And then coming more perfectly
to her self) Heaven! What’s this?--I am D’ELMONT (cry’d the o’erjoy’d
_Count_) the happy D’ELMONT! MELLIORA’S, the charming MELLIORA’S
D’ELMONT! Oh, all ye Saints, (resum’d the surpriz’d, trembling Fair) ye
ministring Angels! Whose Business it is to guard the Innocent! Protect
and shield my Virtue! O! say, how came you here, my Lord? Love, said
he, Love that does all, that Wonder-working Power has sent me here, to
charm thee, sweet Resister, into yielding. O! hold, (cry’d she, finding
he was proceeding to Liberties, which her Modesty could not allow of)
forbear, I do conjure you, even by that Love you plead, before my Honour
I’ll resign my Life! Therefore, unless you wish to see me dead, a Victim
to your cruel, fatal Passion, I beg you to desist, and leave me:---I
cannot---must not (answer’d he, growing still more bold) what, when I
have thee thus! Thus naked in my Arms, trembling, defenceless, yielding,
panting with equal Wishes, thy Love confess’d, and every Thought, Desire!
What could’st thou think if I should leave thee? How justly would’st
thou scorn my easy Tameness; my Dulness, unworthy the Name of Lover, or
even of Man!--Come, come, no more Reluctance (continued he, gathering
Kisses from her soft Snowy Breast at every Word) Damp not the Fires thou
hast rais’d with seeming Coyness! I know thou art mine! All mine! And
thus I--yet think (said she, interrupting him, and struggling in his
Arms) think what ’tis that you wou’d do; nor, for a Moment’s Joy, hazard
your Peace for ever. By Heaven, cry’d he, I will this Night be Master of
my Wishes, no matter what to Morrow may bring forth: As soon as he had
spoke these Words, he put it out of her Power either to deny or reproach
him, by stopping her Mouth with Kisses, and was just on the Point of
making good what he had vow’d, when a loud knocking at the Chamber Door,
put a stop to his beginning Extacy, and chang’d the sweet Confusion
MELLIORA had been in, to all the Horrors, of a Shame and Guilt-distracted
Apprehension: They made no Doubt but that it was ALOVISA, and that they
were betray’d; the _Count’s_ greatest Concern was for MELLIORA, and the
Knocking still continuing louder, all he cou’d do in this Exigence,
was to make his Escape the Way he came: There was no time for taking
leave, and he could only say, perceiving she was ready to faint with
her Fears-----Be comforted my Angel, and resolute in your Denials, to
whatever Questions the natural Insolence of a Jealous Wife may provoke
mine to ask you; and we shall meet again (if D’ELMONT survives this
Disappointment) without Danger, of so quick, so curst a Separation.
MELLIORA was in too much Distraction to make any Answer to what he said,
and he had left the Room some Moments, before she cou’d get Spirit enough
to ask who was at the Door? But when she did, was as much surpriz’d
to find it was MELANTHA, who desir’d to be let in, as before she was
frighted at the Belief it was ALOVISA, however, she immediately slipt on
her Night-Gown and Slippers, and open’d the Door.