ANSELLINA’S Indisposition, and the Fears I was in for her; but by the
time I receiv’d your Answer, I thought my self the happiest of Mankind:
She was perfectly recover’d, and every Day I receiv’d new Proofs of her
Affection: We began to talk now of coming to _Paris_, and she seem’d
no less Impatient for that Journey than my self, and one Evening, the
last I ever had the Honour of her Conversation; she told me, that in
spite of the Physicians Caution, she wou’d leave _Amiens_ in three or
four Days; You may be sure I did not disswade her from that Resolution;
but, how great was my Astonishment, when going the next Morning to the
_Baronesses_, to give the Ladies the _Bonjour_, as I constantly did
every Morning, I perceiv’d an unusual coldness in the Face of every
one in the Family; the _Baroness_ herself spoke not to me, but to tell
me that ANSELLINA wou’d see no Company: How, Madam, said I, am I not
excepted from those general Orders, what can this sudden alteration in
my Fortune mean? I suppose (reply’d she) that ANSELLINA has her Reasons
for what she does: I said all that despair cou’d suggest, to oblige her
to give me some light into this Mistery, but all was in vain, she either
made me no Answers, or such as were not Satisfactory, and growing weary
with being Importun’d, she abruptly went out of the Room, and left me
in a confusion not to be Express’d: I renew’d my visit the next Day,
and was then deny’d admittance by the Porter: The same, the following
one, and as Servants commonly form their Behaviour, according to that of
those they serve, it was easy for me to observe I was far from being a
welcome Guest: I writ to ANSELLINA, but had my Letter return’d unopen’d:
And that Scorn so unjustly thrown upon me, tho’ it did not absolutely
cure my Passion, yet it stirr’d up so much just Resentment in me, that
it abated very much of its Tenderness: About a Fortnight I remain’d in
this perplexity, and at the end of it was plung’d into a greater, when I
receiv’d a little _Billet_ from ANSELLINA, which as I remember, contain’d
these Words.
[Illustration]
ANSELLINA to the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN.
_I sent your Letter back without Perusing, believing it might
contain something of a Subject which I am resolv’d to encourage
no farther: I do not think it proper at present to acquaint you
with my Reasons for it; but if I see you at PARIS, you shall
know them: I set out for thence to Morrow, but desire you not
to pretend to Accompany me thither, if you wou’d preserve the
Esteem of_,
ANSELLINA.
I cannot but say, I thought this manner of proceeding very odd, and
vastly different from that openness of Nature, I always admir’d in
her, but as I had been always a most obsequious Lover; I resolv’d not
to forfeit that Character, and give a Proof of an implicite Obedience
to her Will, tho’ with what Anxiety of Mind you may imagine. I stood
at a distance, and saw her take Coach, and as soon as her Attendants
were out of sight, I got on Horseback, and follow’d; I several Times
lay at the same Inn where she did, but took care not to appear before
her: Never was any sight more pleasing to me, than that of _Paris_,
because I there hop’d to have my Destiny unravell’d; but your being out
of Town, preventing her making any stay, I was reduc’d to another tryal
of Patience; about Seven Furlongs from hence, hap’ning to Bait at the
same _Cabaret_ with her, I saw her Woman, who had been always perfectly
obliging to me, walking alone in the Garden; I took the liberty to show
my self to her, and ask her some Questions concerning my future Fate, to
which she answer’d with all the Freedom I cou’d desire, and observing
the Melancholly, which was but too apparent in my Countenance: Sir, said
she, tho’ I think nothing can be more blame-worthy than to betray the
Secrets of our Superiors, yet I hope I shall stand excus’d for declaring
so much of my Lady’s as the Condition you are in, seems to require; I
wou’d not therefore have you believe that in this Separation, you are
the only Sufferer, I can assure you, my Lady bears her part of Sorrow
too.----How can that be possible (cry’d I) when my Misfortune is brought
upon me, only by the change of her Inclination? Far from it (answer’d
she) you have a Brother--he only is to blame, she has receiv’d Letters
from _Madam_ D’ELMONT which have---as she was speaking, she was call’d
hastily away, without being able to finish what she was about to say,
and I was so Impatient to hear: Her naming you in such a manner, planted
ten thousand Daggers in my Soul!----What cou’d I imagine by those Words,
_You have a Brother, he only is to Blame_, and her mentioning Letters
from that Brother’s Wife; but that it was thro’ you I was made wretched?
I repeated several times over to my self, what she had said, but cou’d
wrest no other Meaning from it, than that you being already possess’d
of the Elder Sister’s Fortune, were willing to Engross the other’s too,
by preventing her from Marrying: Pardon me, my Lord, if I have Injur’d
you, since I protest, the Thoughts of your designing my undoing, was, if
possible, more dreadful to me than the Ill it self.
You will, reply’d the _Count_, be soon convinc’d how little Hand I had
in those Letters, whatever they contain’d, when you have been here a few
Days. He then told him of the disagreement between himself and ALOVISA,
her perpetual Jealousy, her Pride, her Rage, and the little probability
there was of their being ever reconcil’d, so as to live together as they
ought, omitting nothing of the Story, but his Love for MELLIORA, and
the Cause he had given to create this uneasiness. They both concluded,
that ANSELLINA’S alteration of Behaviour was entirely owing to something
her Sister had written, and that she wou’d use her utmost endeavour
to break off the Match wholly in Revenge to her Husband: As they were
discoursing on means to prevent it, the Ladies came to the Gate; they saw
them thro’ the Window, and ran to receive them immediately: The _Count_
handed ANSELLINA out of the Coach, with great Complaisance, while the
_Chevalier_ wou’d have done the same by ALOVISA, but she wou’d not permit
him, which the _Count_ observing, when he had paid those Complements to
her Sister, which he thought civility requir’d, Madam (said he, turning
to her and frowning) is it not enough, you make me wretched by your
continual Clamours, and Upbraidings, but that your ill Nature must extend
to all, whom you believe I love? She answer’d him only with a disdainful
Look, and haughty Toss, which spoke the Pleasure she took in having it in
her Power to give him Pain, and went out of the Room with ANSELLINA.
D’ELMONT’S Family was now become a most distracted one, every Body was
in confusion, and it was hard for a disinterested Person, to know how
to behave among them: The _Count_ was ready to die with Vexation, when
he reflected on the Adventure at the BARON’S with MELANTHA, and how
hard it wou’d be to clear his Conduct in that point with MELLIORA: She,
on the other Hand, was as much tormented at his not attempting it. The
_Chevalier_, was in the height of despair, when he found that ANSELLINA
continued her Humour, and still avoided letting him know the occasion of
it: And ALOVISA, tho’ she contented herself for some Hours with relating
to her Sister, all the Passages of her Husband’s unkind usage of her,
yet when that was over, her Curiosity return’d, and she grew so madly
Zealous to find out, who her rival was, that she repented her Behaviour
to the _Baron_, and sent him the next Day privately, a _Billet_, wherein
she assur’d him, that she had acquainted the _Count_ with nothing that
had pass’d between them, and that she desir’d to speak with him. ’Tis
easy to believe he needed not a second Invitation; he came immediately,
and ALOVISA renew’d her Entreaties in the most pressing manner she was
capable of, but in vain, he told her plainly, that if he cou’d not
have her Heart, nothing but the full Possession of her Person shou’d
Extort the Secret from him. ’Twould swell this Discourse beyond what I
design, to recount her various Starts of Passions, and different Turns
of Behaviour, sometimes louder than the Winds she rav’d! Commanded!
Threatned! Then, still as _April_ Showers, or Summer Dews she wept, and
only whisper’d her Complaints, now dissembling Kindness, then declaring
unfeign’d Hate; ’till at last, finding it impossible to prevail by any
other means, she promis’d to admit him at Midnight into her Chamber:
But as it was only the force of her too passionate Affection for her
Husband, which had work’d her to this pitch of raging Jealousie, so she
had no sooner made the Assignation, and the _Baron_ had left her (to seek
the _Count_ to prevent any suspicion of their long Conversation) but
all D’ELMONT’S Charms came fresh into her Mind, and made the Thoughts
of what she had promis’d, Odious and Insupportable; she open’d her
Mouth more than once to call back the _Baron_, and Recant all that she
had said; but her ill Genius, or that Devil, Curiosity, which too much
haunts the Minds of Women, still prevented Her: What will become of me,
(said she to her self) what is it I am about to do? Shall I foregoe my
Honour---quit my Virtue,---sully my yet unspotted Name with endless
Infamy---and yield my Soul to Sin, to Shame, and Horror, only to know
what I can ne’er Redress? If D’ELMONT hates me now, will he not do so
still?---What will this curs’d Discovery bring me but added Tortures, and
fresh weight of Woe: Happy had it been for her if these Considerations
cou’d have lasted, but when she had been a Minute or two in this Temper,
she wou’d relapse and cry, what! must I tamely bear it then?---Endure
the Flouts of the malicious World, and the contempt of every saucy
Girl, who while she pities, scorns my want of Charms--Shall I neglected
tell my Tale of Wrongs, (O, Hell is in that Thought) ’till my despair
shall reach my Rival’s Ears, and Crown her Adulterous Joys with double
Pleasure.---Wretch that I am!--Fool that I am, to hesitate, my Misery
is already past Addition, my everlasting Peace is broke! Lost even to
hope, what can I more endure?---No, since I must be ruin’d, I’ll have
the Satisfaction of dragging with me to Perdition, the Vile, the Cursed
she that has undone me: I’ll be reveng’d on her, then die my self, and
free me from Pollution. As she was in this last Thought, she perceiv’d
at a good distance from her, the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN and ANSELLINA in
Discourse; the sight of him immediately put a new contrivance into her
Head, and she compos’d her self as she cou’d, and went to meet them.
ANSELLINA having been left alone, while her Sister was Entertaining the
_Baron_, had walk’d down into the Garden to divert her self, where the
_Chevalier_, who was on the watch for such an opportunity, had follow’d
her; he cou’d not forbear, tho’ in Terms full of Respect, taxing her
with some little Injustice for her late Usage of him, and Breach of
Promise, in not letting him know her Reasons for it: She, who by Nature
was extreamly averse to the disguising her Sentiments, suffer’d him not
long to press her for an _Eclaircissment_, and with her usual Freedom,
told him what she had done, was purely in compliance with her Sister’s
Request; that she cou’d not help having the same Opinion of him as ever,
but that she had promis’d ALOVISA to defer any Thoughts of marrying him,
till his Brother shou’d confess his Error: The obliging things she said
to him, tho’ she persisted in her Resolution, dissipated great part of
his Chagreen, and he was beginning to excuse D’ELMONT, and persuade her
that her Sister’s Temper was the first occasion of their quarrel, when
ALOVISA interrupted them. ANSELLINA was a little out of Countenance
at her Sister’s Presence, imagining she wou’d be Incens’d at finding
her with the _Chevalier_; but that distressed Lady was full of other
Thoughts, and desiring him to follow her to her Chamber, as soon as they
were set down, confess’d to him, how, fir’d with his Brother’s Falshood,
she endeavour’d to revenge it upon him, that she had been his Enemy, but
was willing to enter into any Measures for his Satisfaction, provided
he wou’d comply with one, which she should propose, which he faithfully
promising, after she had sworn him to Secrecy, discover’d to him every
Circumstance, from her first Cause of Jealousy, to the Assignation she
had made with the _Baron_; now, said she, it is in your Power to preserve
both your Brother’s Honour, and my Life (which I sooner will resign than
my Vertue) if you stand conceal’d in a little Closet, which I shall
convey you to, and the Moment he has satisfy’d my Curiosity, by telling
me her Name that has undone me, rush out, and be my Protector. The
_Chevalier_ was infinitely Surpriz’d at what he heard, for his Brother
had not given him the least hint of his Passion, but thought the request
she made, too reasonable to be deny’d.
While they were in this Discourse, MELLIORA, who had been sitting
indulging her Melancholly in that Closet which ALOVISA spoke of, and
which did not immediately belong to that Chamber, but was a sort of an
Entry, or Passage, into another, and tir’d with Reflection, was fallen
asleep, but on the noise which ALOVYSA and the _Chevalier_ made in
coming in, wak’d, and heard to her inexpressible trouble, the Discourse
that pass’d between them: She knew that unknown Rival was herself, and
condemn’d the _Count_ of the highest Imprudence, in making a confidant,
as she found he had, of the _Baron_; she saw her Fate, at least that of
her Reputation was now upon the Crisis, that, that very Night she was
to be expos’d to all the Fury of an enrag’d Wife, and was so shook with
apprehension, that she was scarce able to go out of the Closet time
enough to prevent their discovering she was there; what cou’d she do in
this Exigence, the Thoughts of being betray’d, was worse to her than a
thousand Deaths, and it was to be wondred at, as she has since confest,
that in that height of Desparation, she had not put an end to the
Tortures of Reflection, by laying violent Hands on her own Life: As she
was going from the Closet hastily to her own Appartment, the _Count_ and
_Baron_ pass’d her, and that sight heightening the distraction she was
in, she stept to the _Count_, and in a faultring, scarce intelligible
Accent, whisper’d, for Heaven’s Sake let me speak with you before Night,
make some pretence to come to my Chamber, where I’ll wait for you. And
as soon as she had spoke these Words, darted from him so swift, that he
had no opportunity of replying, if he had not been too much overwhelm’d
with Joy at this seeming Change of his Fortune to have done it; he
misunderstood part of what she said, and instead of her desiring to speak
with him _before Night_, he imagin’d, she said _at Night_. He presently
communicated it to the _Baron_, who congratulated him upon it; and never
was any Night more impatiently long’d for, than this was by them both.
They had indeed not many Hours of Expectation, but MELLIORA thought
them Ages; all her hopes were, that if she cou’d have an opportunity of
discovering to _Count_ D’ELMONT what she had heard between his Wife and
Brother, he might find some means to prevent the _Baron’s_ Treachery
from taking Effect. But when Night grew on, and she perceiv’d he came
not, and she consider’d how near she was to inevitable Ruin, what Words
can sufficiently express her Agonies? So I shall only say, they were
too violent to have long kept Company with Life; Guilt, Horrour, Fear,
Remorse, and Shame at once oppress’d her, and she was very near sinking
beneath their Weight, when somebody knock’d softly at the Door; she
made no doubt but it was the _Count_, and open’d it immediately, and he
catching her in his Arms with all the eagerness of transported Love, she
was about to clear his Mistake, and let him know it was not an amourous
Entertainment she expected from him; when a sudden cry of Murder, and the
noise of clashing Swords, made him let go his hold, and draw his own, and
run along the Gallery to find out the occasion, where being in the dark,
and only directed by the noise he heard in his Wife’s Chamber, something
met the point, and a great shriek following it, he cry’d for Lights but
none coming immediately; he stepping farther stumbled at the Body which
had fallen, he then redoubled his outcrys, and MELLIORA, frighted as
she was, brought one from her Chamber, and at the same Instant that
they discover’d it was ALOVISA, who coming to alarm the Family, had by
Accident run on her Husband’s Sword, they saw the _Chevalier_ pursuing
the _Baron_, who mortally wounded, dropt down by ALOVISA’S side; what
a dreadful View was this? The _Count_, MELLIORA, and the Servants, who
by this time were most of them rowz’d, seem’d without Sence or Motion,
only the _Chevalier_ had Spirit enough to speak, or think, so stupify’d
was every one with what they saw. But he ordering the Servants to take
up the Bodies, sent one of ’em immediately for a Surgeon, but they
were both of them past his Art to cure; ALOVISA spoke no more, and the
_Baron_ liv’d but two Days, in which time the whole Account, as it was
gather’d from the Mouths of those chiefly concern’d, was set down, and
the Tragical part of it being laid before the KING, there appear’d so
much of Justice in the _Baron’s_ Death, and Accident in ALOVISA’S, that
the _Count_ and _Chevalier_ found it no difficult matter to obtain their
Pardon. The _Chevalier_ was soon after Married to his beloved ANSELLINA;
but MELLIORA look’d on herself as the most guilty Person upon Earth, as
being the primary Cause of all the Misfortunes that had happen’d, and
retir’d immediately to a Monastery, from whence, not all the entreaties
of her Friends, nor the implorations of the Amorous D’ELMONT cou’d bring
her, she was now resolv’d to punish, by a voluntary Banishment from all
she ever did, or cou’d love; the Guilt of Indulging that Passion, while
it was a Crime. He, not able to live without her, at least in the same
Climate, committed the Care of his Estate to his Brother, and went to
Travel, without an Inclination ever to return: MELANTHA who was not of a
Humour to take any thing to Heart, was Married in a short Time, and had
the good Fortune not to be suspected by her Husband, though she brought
him a Child in Seven Months after her Wedding.
_LOVE in Excess:_
OR, THE
FATAL INQUIRY,
A
NOVEL.
The THIRD and Last PART.
_Success can then alone your Vows attend,_
_When Worth’s the Motive, Constancy the End._
EPILOGUE to the _Spartan_ Dame.
By _Mrs._ Haywood.
[Illustration]
_LONDON_:
Printed for W. CHETWOOD, J. WOODMAN, D.
BROWN, and S. CHAPMAN.
[Illustration]
LOVE in EXCESS:
OR, THE
FATAL ENQUIRY.
The Third and Last PART.
Tho’ Count _D’elmont_ never had any tenderness for _Alovisa_, and her
Extravagance of Rage and Jealousie, join’d to his Passion for _Melliora_,
had every Day abated it, yet the manner of her Death was too great a
shock to the sweetness of his Disposition, to be easily worn off; he
cou’d not remember her Uneasiness, without reflecting that it sprung only
from her too violent Affection for him; and tho’ there was no possibility
of living happily with her, when he consider’d that she died, not only
for him, but by his Hand, his Compassion for the Cause, and Horror for
the unwish’d, as well as undesign’d Event, drew Lamentations from him,
more sincere, perhaps, than one of those Husbands, who call themselves
very loving ones, wou’d make.
To alleviate the troubles of his Mind, he had endeavour’d all he cou’d,
to persuade _Melliora_ to continue in his House; but that afflicted Lady
was not to be prevail’d upon, she look’d on her self, as in a manner,
accessary to _Alovisa_’s Death, and thought the least she ow’d to her
Reputation was to see the _Count_ no more, and tho’ in the forming this
Resolution, she felt Torments unconceivable, yet the strength of her
Virtue enabled her to keep it, and she return’d to the Monastery, where
she had been Educated, carrying with her nothing of that Peace of Mind
with which she left it.
Not many Days pass’d between her Departure, and the _Count_’s; he took
his way towards _Italy_, by the Persuasions of his Brother, who, since he
found him bent to Travel, hop’d that Garden of the World might produce
something to divert his Sorrows; he took but two Servants with him, and
those rather for conveniency than State: _Ambition_, once his darling
Passion, was now wholly extinguish’d in him by these Misfortunes, and he
no longer thought of making a Figure in the World; but his _Love_ nothing
cou’d abate, and ’tis to be believ’d that the violence of that wou’d have
driven him to the use of some fatal Remedy, if the _Chevalier Brillian_,
to whom he left the Care of _Melliora_’s and her Brother’s Fortune as
well as his own, had not, tho’ with much difficulty, obtain’d a Promise
from her, of conversing with him by Letters.
This was all he had to keep hope alive, and indeed it was no
inconsiderable Consolation, for she that allows a Correspondence of that
Kind with a Man that has any Interest in her Heart, can never persuade
herself, while she does so, to make him become indifferent to her.
When we give our selves the liberty of even talking of the Person we
have once lov’d, and find the least pleasure in that Discourse, ’tis
ridiculous to imagine we are free from that Passion, without which, the
mention of it would be but insipid to our Ears, and the remembrance
to our Minds, tho’ our Words are never so Cold, they are the Effects
of a secret Fire, which burns not with less Strength for not being
Dilated. The _Count_ had too much Experience of all the Walks and Turns
of Passion to be ignorant of this, if _Melliora_ had endeavour’d to
disguise her Sentiments, but she went not so far, she thought it a
sufficient vindication of her Virtue, to withold the rewarding of his
Love, without feigning a coldness to which she was a stranger, and he
had the satisfaction to observe a tenderness in her Stile, which assur’d
him, that her _Heart_ was unalterably his, and very much strengthen’d his
Hopes, that one Day her Person might be so too, when time had a little
effac’d the Memory of those Circumstances, which had obliged her to put
this constraint on her Inclinations.
He wrote to her from every Post-Town, and waited till he receiv’d
her Answer, by this means his Journey was extreamly tedious, but no
Adventures of any moment, falling in his way ’till he came to _Rome_, I
shall not trouble my Readers with a recital of particulars which cou’d be
no way Entertaining.
But, how strangely do they deceive themselves, who fancy that they are
Lovers, yet on every little turn of Fortune, or Change of Circumstance,
are agitated, with any Vehemence, by Cares of a far different Nature?
_Love_ is too jealous, too arbitrary a Monarch to suffer any other
Passion to equalize himself in that Heart where he has fix’d his Throne.
When once enter’d, he becomes the whole Business of our Lives, we
think----we Dream of nothing else, nor have a Wish not inspir’d by him:
Those who have the Power to apply themselves so seriously to any other
Consideration as to forget him, tho’ but for a Moment, are but Lovers in
Conceit, and have entertain’d Desire but as an agreeable Amusement, which
when attended with any Inconvenience, they may without much difficulty
shake off. Such a sort of Passion may be properly enough call’d _Liking_,
but falls widely short of _Love_. _Love_, is what we can neither resist,
expel, nor even alleviate, if we should never so vigorously attempt it;
and tho’ some have boasted, _Thus far will I yield and no farther_, they
have been convinc’d of the Vanity of forming such Resolutions by the
impossibility of keeping them. _Liking_ is a flashy Flame, which is to
be kept alive only by ease and delight. _Love_, needs not this fewel
to maintain its Fire, it survives in Absence, and disappointments, it
endures, unchill’d, the wintry Blasts of cold Indifference and Neglect,
and continues its Blaze, even in a storm of Hatred and Ingratitude,
and Reason, Pride, or a just sensibility of conscious Worth, in vain
oppose it. _Liking_, plays gaily round, feeds on the Sweets in gross,
but is wholly insensible of the Thorns which guard the nicer, and more
refin’d Delicacies of Desire, and can consequently give neither Pain, nor
Pleasure in any superlative degree. _Love_ creates intollerable Torments!
Unspeakable Joys! Raises us to the highest Heaven of Happiness, or sinks
us to the lowest Hell of Misery.
Count _D’elmont_ experienc’d the Truth of this Assertion; for neither
his just concern for the manner of _Alovisa_’s Death cou’d curb the
Exuberance of his Joy, when he consider’d himself belov’d by _Melliora_,
nor any Diversion of which _Rome_ afforded great Variety, be able to make
him support being absent from her with Moderation. There are I believe,
but few modern Lovers, how Passionate and constant soever they pretend to
be, who wou’d not in the _Count_’s Circumstances have found some matter
of Consolation; but he seem’d wholly dead to Gaiety. In vain, all the
_Roman_ Nobility courted his acquaintance; in vain the Ladies made use
of their utmost Artifice to engage him: He prefer’d a solitary Walk, a
lonely Shade, or the Bank of some purling Stream, where he undisturb’d
might contemplate on his belov’d _Melliora_, to all the noisy Pleasures
of the Court, or the endearments of the inviting Fair. In fine, he shun’d
as much as possible all Conversation with the Men, or Correspondence with
the Women; returning all their _Billet-Doux_, of which scarce a Day past,
without his receiving some, unanswer’d.
This manner of Behaviour in a little time deliver’d him from the
Persecutions of the Discreet; but having receiv’d one Letter which he had
us’d as he had done the rest, it was immediately seconded by another;
both which contain’d as follows:
[Illustration]
LETTER I.
To the never Enough Admir’d COUNT D’ELMONT.