grievous Racks of Mind, her Husband appear’d to her that Night, more
gay and lovely, if possible than ever, but that Contentment which sat
upon his Face, and added to his Graces, stung her to the Soul, when she
reflected how little Sympathy there was between them: Scarce a Month
(said she to her self) was I bless’d with those looks of Joy, a pensive
sullenness has dwelt upon his Brow e’er since, ’till now; ’tis from my
Ruin that his Pleasure flows, he hates me, and rejoyces in a Pretence,
tho’ never so poor a one, to be absent from me. She was inwardly toss’d
with a Multitude of these and the like perturbations, tho’ the Assurance
the Baron had given her of Revenge, made her conceal them tolerably well,
while she was in Company, but when she was left alone in the Chamber, and
perceiv’d the Baron did not come so soon as she expected. Her Rage broke
out in all the Violence imaginable: She gave a loose to every furious
Passion, and when she saw him enter, Cruel _D’Espernay_ (said she) where
have you been!---Is this the Friendship which you vow’d? To leave me here
distracted with my Griefs, while my perfidious Husband, and the cursed
she, that robs me of him, are perhaps, as happy, as their guilty Love can
make them? Madam (answer’d he) ’tis but a Moment since they are met: A
Moment! (interrupted she) a Moment is too much, the smallest Particle of
undivided Time, may make my Rival blest, and vastly recompence for all
that my Revenge can do. Ah Madam (resum’d the Baron) how dearly do you
still Love that most ungrateful Man: I had hopes that the full Knowledge
of his Falshood might have made you scorn the scorner, I shall be able by
to Morrow (reply’d the Cunning ALOVISA who knew his drift well enough)
to give you a better account of my Sentiments than now I can:---But why
do we delay (continued she impatiently) are they not together?---The
Baron saw this was no time to press her farther, and therefore taking
a Wax Candle which stood on the Table, in one Hand, and offering the
other to lead her, I am ready Madam (said he) to make good my Promise,
and shall esteem no other Hours of my Life happy, but those which may be
serviceable to you: They had only a small part of a Gallery to go thro’,
and ALOVISA had no time to answer to these last Words, if she had been
compos’d enough to have done it, before they were at the Door, which as
soon as the Baron had brought her to, he withdrew with all possible Speed.
Tho’ the _Count_ had been but a very little time in the Arms of his
suppos’d MELLIORA, yet he had made so good use of it, and had taken
so much Advantage of her complying Humour, that all his Fears were at
an End, he now thought himself the most Fortunate of all Mankind; and
_Melantha_ was far from repenting the Breach of the Resolution she
had made of discovering her self to him. His Behaviour to her was all
Rapture, all killing extacy, and she flatter’d her self with a Belief,
that when he shou’d come to know to whom he ow’d that bliss he had
possess’d, he would not be ungrateful for it.
What a confus’d Consternation must this Pair be in, when ALOVYSA rush’d
into the Room;---’tis hard to say, which was the greatest, the _Count’s_
concern for his imagin’d MELLIORA’S Honour, or MELANTHA’S for her own;
but if one may form a Judgment from the Levity of the one’s Temper, and
generosity of the other’s, one may believe that his had the Preheminence:
But neither of them were so lost in Thought, as not to take what measures
the Place and Time wou’d permit, to baffle the Fury of this Incens’d
Wife: MELANTHA slunk under the Cloaths and the COUNT started up in the
Bed at the first Appearance of the Light, which ALOVYSA had in her Hand,
and in the most angry Accent he cou’d turn his Voice to, ask’d her the
Reason of her coming there: Rage, at this sight (prepar’d and arm’d for
it as she was) took away all Power of utterance from her; but she flew
to the Bed, and began to tear the Cloaths (which MELANTHA held fast over
her Head) in so violent a manner, that the _Count_ found the only way to
Tame her, was to meet Force with Force; so jumping out, he seiz’d on her,
and throwing her into a Chair, and holding her down in it, Madam, Madam
(said he) you are Mad, and I as such shall use you, unless you promise to
return quietly, and leave me. She cou’d yet bring forth no other Words,
than Villain,----Monster! And such like Names, which her Passion and
Injury suggested, which he but little regarding but for the noise she
made; for shame (resum’d he) expose not thus your self and me, if you
cannot command your Temper, at least confine your Clamours---I will not
stir (said she, raving and struggling to get loose) ’till I have seen
the Face that has undone me, I’ll tear out her bewitching Eyes---the
curst Adultress! And leave her Mistress of fewer Charms than thou canst
find in me: She spoke this with so elevated a Voice, that the _Count_
endeavour’d to stop her Mouth, that she might not alarm the Company that
were in the House, but he cou’d not do it time enough to prevent her
from shrieking out Murder.---Help! Or the barbarous Man will kill me! At
these Words the _Baron_ came running in immediately, full of Surprize and
Rage at something he had met with in the mean time: How came this Woman
here, cry’d the _Count_ to him: Ask me not my Lord (said he) for I can
answer nothing, but every thing this cursed Night, I think, has happened
by Enchantment; he was going to say something more, but several of his
Guests hearing a noise, and cry of Murder, and directed by the Lights
they saw in that Room, came in, and presently after a great many of the
Servants, that the Chamber was as full as it cou’d hold: The _Count_ let
go his Wife on the sight of the first stranger that enter’d; and indeed,
there was no need of his confining her in that Place (tho’ he knew not so
much) for the violence of so many contrary Passions warring in her Breast
at once, had thrown her into a Swoon, and she fell back when he let go
his hold of her, Motionless, and in all appearance Dead. The _Count_ said
little, but began to put on his Cloaths, asham’d of the Posture he had
been seen in; but the BARON endeavour’d to perswade the Company, that it
was only a Family Quarrel of no Consequence, told them he was sorry for
the disturbance it had given them, and desir’d them to return to their
Rest, and when the Room was pretty clear, order’d two or three of the
Maids to carry ALOVYSA to her Chamber, and apply Things proper for her
Recovery; as they were bearing her out, MELLIORA who had been frighted as
well as the rest, with the noise she heard, was running along the Gallery
to see what had happen’d, and met them; her Trouble to find ALOVYSA in
that Condition, was unfeign’d, and she assisted those that were employ’d
about her, and accompany’d them where they carry’d her.
The _Count_ was going to the Bed-side to comfort the conceal’d Fair,
that lay still under the Cloaths, when he saw MELLIORA at the Door:
What Surprize was ever equal to his, at this View?-----He stood like
one transfix’d with Thunder, he knew not what to think, or rather cou’d
not think at all, confounded with a seeming Impossibility. He beheld
the Person, whom he thought had lain in his Arms, whom he had enjoy’d,
whose Bulk and Proportion he still saw in the Bed, whom he was just
going to Address to, and for whom he had been in all the Agonies of Soul
imaginable, come from a distant Chamber, and unconcern’d, ask’d cooly,
how ALOVISA came to be taken ill! He look’d confusedly about, sometimes
on MELLIORA, sometimes towards the Bed, and sometimes on the Baron; am I
awake, (said he) or is every thing I see and hear, Illusion? The Baron
could not presently resolve after what manner he should answer, tho’
he perfectly knew the Truth of this Adventure, and who was in the Bed;
for, when he had conducted ALOVISA to that Room, in order to make the
Discovery he had promised, he went to his Sister’s Chamber, designing to
abscond there, in case the Count should fly out on his Wife’s Entrance,
and seeing him there, imagine who it was that betray’d him; and finding
the Door shut, knock’d and call’d to have it opened; MELLIORA, who began
to think she should lye in quiet no where, ask’d who was there, and
what he would have? I would speak with my Sister, (reply’d he, as much
astonish’d then, to hear who it was that answer’d him, as the Count was
now to see her) and MELLIORA having assur’d him that she was not with
her, left him no Room to doubt, by what means the Exchange had been
made: Few Men, how amorous soever themselves, care that the Female part
of their Family should be so, and he was most sensibly mortify’d with
it, but reflecting that it could not be kept a Secret, at least from the
Count, my Lord, (said he, pointing to the Bed) there lies the Cause of
your Amazement, that wicked Woman has betray’d the Trust I repos’d in
her, and deceiv’d both you and me; rise, continued he, throwing open the
Curtains, thou shame of thy Sex, and everlasting Blot and Scandal of the
Noble House thou art descended from; rise, I say, or I will stab thee
here in this Scene of Guilt; in speaking these Words, he drew out his
Sword, and appear’d in such a real Fury, that the Count, tho’ more and
more amaz’d with every thing he saw and heard, made no doubt but he wou’d
do as he said, and ran to hold his Arm.
As no Woman that is Mistress of a great share of Wit, _will_ be a Coquet,
so no Woman that has not a little, _can_ be one: MELANTHA, tho’ frighted
to Death with these unexpected Occurrences, feign’d a Courage, which she
had not in reality, and thrusting her Head a little above the Cloaths,
Bless me Brother (said she) I vow I do not know what you mean by all
this Bustle, neither am I guilty of any Crime: I was vex’d indeed to be
made a Property of, and chang’d Beds with MELLIORA for a little innocent
Revenge; for I always design’d to discover my self to the Count, time
enough to prevent Mischief. The Baron was not so silly as to believe
what she said, tho’ the Count, as much as he hated her, had too much
Generosity to contradict her, and keeping still hold of the Baron, come
_D’Espernay_, (said he) I believe your Sisters Stars and mine, have from
our Birth been at Variance, for this is the third Disappointment she has
given me; once in MELLIORA’S Chamber, then in the Wilderness, and now
here; but I forgive her, therefore let us retire and leave her to her
Repose. The Baron was sensible that all the Rage in the World could not
recall what had been done, and only giving her a furious Look, went with
the Count out of the Room, without saying any thing more to her at that
Time.
The Baron with much Entreating, at last prevail’d on Count D’ELMONT to
go into his Bed, where he accompany’d him; but they were both of them
too full of troubled Meditations, to Sleep: His Sister’s Indiscretion
vex’d the Baron to the Heart, and took away great part of the Joy, for
the fresh Occasion the Count had given ALOVISA to withdraw her Affection
from him. But with what Words can the various Passions that agitated
the Soul of D’ELMONT be described? The Transports he had enjoy’d in an
imaginary Felicity, were now turn’d to so many real Horrors; he saw
himself expos’d to all the World, for it would have been Vanity to the
last Degree, to believe this Adventure would be kept a Secret, but what
gave him the most bitter Reflection, was, that MELLIORA when she should
know it, as he could not doubt but she immediately wou’d be told it by
ALOVISA, wou’d judge of it by the Appearance, and believe him, at once,
the most vicious, and most false of Men. As for his Wife, he thought not
of her, with any Compassion for his Sufferings, but with Rage and Hate,
for that jealous Curiosity, which he suppos’d had led her to watch his
Actions that Night; (for he had not the least Suspicion of the Baron.)
MELANTHA he always despised, but now detested, for the Trick she had put
upon him; yet thought it would be not only unmanly, but barbarous to let
her know he did so: It was in vain for him to endeavour to come to a
Determination after what manner he should behave himself to any of them,
and when the Night was past, in forming a thousand several Resolutions,
the Morning found him as much to seek as before: He took his Leave early
of the Baron, not being willing to see any of the Company after what had
happened, ’till he was more Compos’d.
He was not deceiv’d in his Conjectures concerning MELLIORA, for
ALOVISA was no sooner recover’d from her Swoon, than, she, with
bitter Exclamations, told her what had been the Occasion, and put that
astonish’d Fair one into such a visible Disorder, as had she not been too
full of Misery, to take Notice of it, had made her easily perceive that
she was deeply interested in the Story: But whatever she said against
the Count, as she could not forbear something, calling him Ungrateful,
Perjur’d, Deceitful, and Inconstant, ALOVISA took only, as a Proof of
Friendship to her self, and the Effects of that just Indignation all
Women ought to feel for him, that takes a Pride in Injuring any one of
them.
When the Count was gone, the Baron sent to ALOVISA to enquire of her
Health, and if he might have leave to visit her in her Chamber, and being
told she desired he shou’d, resolv’d now to make his Demand. MELLIORA had
but just parted from her, in order to get herself ready to go Home, and
she was alone when he came in. As soon as the first Civilities were over,
she began afresh to conjure him to let her know the Name of her Rival,
which he artfully evading, tho’ not absolutely denying, made her almost
distracted; the Baron carefully observ’d her every Look and Motion, and
when he found her Impatience was rais’d to the highest degree; Madam
(said he, taking her by the Hand, and looking tenderly on her) you cannot
blame a Wretch who has lavish’d all he had away to one poor Jewel,
to make the most he can of that, to supply his future Wants: I have
already forfeited all pretence to Honour, and even common Hospitality,
by betraying the Trust that was repos’d in me, and exposing under my
own Roof, the Man who takes me for his dearest Friend, and what else I
have suffer’d from that unavoidable Impulse which compell’d me to do all
this, your self may judge, who too well know, the Pangs and Tortures of
neglected Love---Therefore, (continued he with a deep Sigh) since this
last reserve is all my Hopes dependance, do not, Oh Charming ALOVISA,
think me Mercinary, if I presume to set a Price upon it, which I confess
too high, yet nothing less can Purchase: No Price (reply’d ALOVISA, who
thought a little Condescension was necessary to win him to her purpose)
can be too dear to buy my Peace, nor Recompence too great for such a
Service: What, not your Love, said the Baron, eagerly kissing her Hand?
No (resum’d she, forcing herself to look kindly on him) not even that,
when such a Proof of yours engages it; but do not keep me longer on the
Rack, give me the Name and then.---She spoke these last Words with such
an Air of Languishment, that the Baron thought his Work was done, and
growing bolder, from her Hand he proceeded to her Lips, and answer’d her
only in Kisses, which distastful as they were to her, she suffer’d him to
take, without Resistance, but that was not all he wanted, and believing
this the Critical Minute, he threw his Arms about her Waist, and began
to draw her by little and little toward the Bed; which she affected to
permit with a kind of an unwilling Willingness; saying, Well, if you
wou’d have me able to deny you nothing you can ask, tell me the Name I
so much wish to know: But the Baron was as cunning as she, and seeing
thro’ her Artifice, was resolv’d to make sure of his Reward first: Yes,
yes, my adorable ALOVISA (answer’d he, having brought her now very near
the Bed) you shall immediately know all, thy Charms will force the Secret
from my Breast, close as it is lodg’d within my inmost Soul.---Dying
with Rapture I will tell thee all.---If that a Thought of this injurious
Husband, can interpose amidst Extatick Joys. What will not some Women
venture, to satisfy a jealous Curiosity? ALOVISA had feign’d to consent
to his Desires, (in hopes to engage him to a Discovery) so far, and had
given him so many Liberties, that now, it was as much as she cou’d do
to save herself, from the utmost Violence, and perceiving she had been
outwitted, and that nothing but the really yielding up her Honour, cou’d
oblige him to reveal what she desired. Villain, said she, (struggling
to get loose from his Embrace) dare thy base Soul believe so vilely of
me? Release me from thy detested Hold, or my Cries shall force thee to
it, and proclaim thee what thou art, a Monster! The Baron was not enough
deluded by her pretence of Kindness, to be much surpriz’d at this sudden
turn of her Behaviour, and only cooly answer’d, Madam, I have no design
of using Violence, but perceive, if I had depended on your Gratitude, I
had been miserably deceiv’d. Yes (said she, looking contemptibly on him)
I own thou would’st; for whatsoever I might say, or thou could’st hope, I
love my Husband still, with an unbated Fondness, doat upon him! Faithless
and Cruel as he is, he still is lovely! His Eyes lose nothing of their
brightness, nor his Tongue its softness! His very Frowns have more
Attraction in them than any others Smiles! and canst thou think! Thou,
so different in all from him, that thou seemest not the same Species of
Humanity, nor ought’st to stile thy self a Man since he is no more: Canst
thou, I say, believe a Woman, bless’d as ALOVISA has been, can e’er blot
out the dear Remembrance, and quit her Hopes of re-gain’d Paradise in
his Embrace, for certain Hell in Thine? She spoke these Words with so
much Scorn, that the Baron skill’d as he was in every Art to tempt, cou’d
not conceal the Spite he conceiv’d at them, and letting go her Hand,
(which perforce he had held) I leave you Madam (said he) to the Pleasure
of enjoying your own Humour; neither that, nor your Circumstances are
to be envy’d, but I’d have you to remember, that you are your own
Tormentor, while you refuse the only means can bring you Ease. I will
have Ease another way (said she, incens’d at the Indignity she imagin’d
he treated her with) and if you still persist in refusing to discover to
me the Person who has injur’d me, I shall make no difficulty of letting
the Count know how much of his Secrets you have imparted, and for what
Reason you conceal the other: You may do so (answer’d he) and I doubt
not but you will---Mischief is the darling Favourite of Woman! Blood is
the Satisfaction perhaps, that you require, and if I fall by him, or he
by me, your Revenge will have its aim, either on the Unloving or the
Unlov’d; for me, I set my Life at nought, without your Love ’tis Hell;
but do not think that even dying, to purchase Absolution, I’d reveal one
Letter of that Name, you so much wish to hear, the Secret shall be buried
with me.----Yes, Madam (continued he, with a malicious Air) that happy
Fair unknown, whose Charms have made you wretched, shall undiscover’d,
and unguess’d at, Triumph in those Joys you think none but your Count can
give. ALOVISA had not an Opportunity to make any Answer to what he said;
MELLIORA came that Moment into the Room, and ask’d if she was ready to
go, and ALOVISA saying that she was, they both departed from the Baron’s
House, without much Ceremony on either side.
ALOVISA had not been long at home before a Messenger came to acquaint
her, that her Sister having miss’d of her at _Paris_, was now on her
Journey to _Le Beausse_, and wou’d be with her in a few Hours: She
rejoyc’d as much at this News, as it was possible for one so full of
disquiet to do, and order’d her Chariot and Six to be made ready again,
and went to meet her.
D’ELMONT heard of ANSELLINA’S coming almost as soon as ALOVISA, and his
Complaisance for Ladies, join’d with the extream desire he had of seeing
his Brother, whom he believ’d was with her, wou’d certainly have given
him Wings to have flown to them with all imaginable Speed, had not the
late Quarrel between him and his Wife, made him think it was improper
to join Company with her on any Account whatever: He was sitting in
his Dressing-Room Window in a melancholly and disturb’d Meditation,
ruminating on every Circumstance of his last Nights Adventure, when
he perceiv’d a couple of Horsemen come galloping over the Plain, and
make directly toward his House. The Dust they made, kept him from
distinguishing who they were, and they were very near the Gate before
he discover’d them to be the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN, and his Servant: The
Surprize he was in to see him without ANSELLINA was very great, but
much more so, when running down, as soon as he saw he was alighted, and
opening his Arms eagerly to Embrace him; the other drawing back, No,
my Lord (said he) since you are pleas’d to forget I am your Brother,
I pretend no other way to merit your Embraces: Nor can think it any
Happiness to hold him in my Arms, who keeps me distant from his Heart.
What mean you (cry’d D’ELMONT, extreamly astonish’d at his Behaviour)
you know so little (resum’d the _Chevalier_) of the power of Love, your
self, that perhaps, you think I ought not to resent what you having done
to ruin me in mine: But, however Sir, Ambition is a Passion which you
are not a Stranger to, and have settled your own Fortune according to
your Wish, methinks you shou’d not wonder that I take it ill, when you
endeavour to prevent my doing so to: The _Count_ was perfectly Confounded
at these Words, and looking earnestly on him; Brother (said he) you seem
to lay a heavy Accusation on me, but if you still retain so much of that
former Affection which was between us, as to desire I shou’d be clear’d
in your Esteem, you must be more plain in your Charge, for tho’ I easily
perceive that I am wrong’d, I cannot see by what means I am so. My Lord,
you are not wrong’d (cry’d the _Chevalier_ hastily) you know you are
not: If my Tongue were silent, the despair that sits upon my Brow, my
alter’d Looks, and grief-sunk Eyes, wou’d proclaim your Barbarous---most
unnatural Usage of me. Ungrateful BRILLIAN (said the COUNT, at once
inflam’d with Tenderness and Anger) is this the Consolation I expected
from your Presence? I know not for what Cause I am upbraided, being
Innocent of any, nor what your Troubles are, but I am sure my own
are such, as needed not this Weight to overwhelm me. He spoke this so
feelingly, and concluded with so deep a sigh as most sensibly touch’d
the Heart of BRILLIAN. If I cou’d believe that you had any (reply’d he)
it were enough to sink me quite, and rid me of a Life which ANSELLINA’S
loss has made me hate. What said you, (interrupted the _Count_)
ANSELLINA’S loss? If that be true, I pardon all the wildness of your
unjust Reproaches, for well I know, despair has small regard to Reason,
but quickly speak the Cause of your Misfortune:---I was about to enquire
the Reason that I saw you not together, when your unkind Behaviour drove
it from my Thoughts. That Question (answer’d the _Chevalier_) ask’d by
you some Days since, wou’d have put me past all the Remains of Patience,
but I begin to hope I am not so unhappy as I thought, but still am blest
in Friendship, tho’ undone in Love----but I’ll not keep you longer in
suspence, my Tale of Grief is short in the Repeating, tho’ everlasting in
its Consequence. In saying this, he sat down, and the _Count_ doing the
like, and assuring him of Attention, he began his Relation in this manner.