being seen and Address’d to, it wou’d be a Crime unpardonable
to Modesty, to make the first Advances. But here, where rigid
Rules are Bar’s, as well to Reason, as to Nature: It wou’d be
as great one, to feign an Infidelity of your Merit. I say,
feign, for I look on it, as an impossibility really to behold
you with Indifferency: But, if I cou’d believe that any of my
Sex were in good earnest so dull, I must confess, I shou’d Envy
that happy Stupidity, which wou’d secure me from the Pains
such a Passion, as you create, must Inflict; unless, from the
Millions whom your Charms have preach’d; you have yet a corner
of your Heart Unpreposess’d; and an Inclination willing to
receive the Impression of_,
Your most Passionate and Tender,
(but ’till she receives a favourable Answer)
Your unknown Adorer.
[Illustration]
LETTER II.
To the Ungrateful D’ELMONT.
_Unworthy of the Happiness design’d you! Is it thus, That
you return the Condescention of a Lady? How fabulous is
Report, which speaks those of your Country, warm and full
of amorous Desires?--Thou, sure, art colder than the bleak
northern Islanders--dull, stupid Wretch! Insensible of every
Passion which give Lustre to the Soul, and differ Man from
Brute!--Without Gratitude--Without Love--Without Desire--Dead,
even to Curiosity!--How I cou’d despise Thee for this
narrowness of Mind, were there not something in thy Eyes and
Mein which assure me, that this negligent Behaviour is but
affected; and that there are within thy Breast, some Seeds
of hidden Fire, which want but the Influence of Charms, more
potent perhaps, than you have yet beheld, to kindle into Blaze.
Make hast then to be Enliven’d, for I flatter my self ’tis in
my Power to work this wonder, and long to inspire so Lovely a
Form with Sentiments only worthy of it.--The Bearer of this,
is a Person who I dare Confide in--Delay not to come with him,
for when once you are Taught what ’tis to Love; you’ll not be
Ignorant that doubtful Expectation is the worst of Racks, and
from your own Experience. Pity what I feel, thus chill’d with
Doubt, yet burning with Desire._
Yours, Impatiently.
The _Count_ was pretty much surpriz’d at the odd Turn of this _Billet_;
but being willing to put an End to the Ladies Trouble, as well as his
own; sat down, and without giving himself much Time to think, writ these
Lines in Answer to Hers.
[Illustration]
To the Fair INCOGNITA.
MADAM,
_If you have no other design in Writing to me, than your
DIVERSION, methinks my Mourning Habit, to which my Countenance
and Behaviour are no way Unconformable, might inform you, I am
little dispos’d for Raillery. If in EARNEST you can find any
thing in me which pleases you, I must confess my self entirely
unworthy of the Honour, not only by my personal Demerits, but
by the Resolution I have made, of Conversing with none of your
Sex while I continue in ITALY. I shou’d be sorry however to
incurr the Aspersion of an unmannerly Contemner of Favours,
which tho’ I do not DESIRE, I pretend not to DESERVE. I
therefore beg you will believe that I return this, as I did
your Former, only to let you see, that since I decline making
any use of your Condescentions to my Advantage; I am not
ungenerous enough to do so to your Prejudice, and to all Ladies
deserving the regard of a Disinterested Well-wisher; shall be
an_
Humble Servant, _D’Elmont_.
The _Count_ order’d one of his Servants to deliver this Letter to the
Person who brought the other; but he return’d immediately with it in his
Hand, and told his Lordship that he cou’d not prevail on the Fellow to
take it; that he said he had business with the _Count_, and must needs
see him, and was so Importunate, that he seem’d rather to _Demand_, than
_Entreat_ a Grant of his Request. D’ELMONT was astonish’d, as well he
might, but commanded he should be admitted.
Nothing cou’d be more comical than the appearance of this Fellow, he
seem’d to be about three-score Years of Age, but Time had not been the
greatest Enemy to his Face, for the Number of Scars, was far exceeding
that of Wrincles, he was tall above the common Stature, but so lean,
that, till he spoke, he might have been taken for one of those Wretches
who have pass’d the Hands of the Anatomists, nor wou’d his Walk have
dissipated that Opinion, for all his Motions, as he enter’d the Chamber,
had more of the Air of Clock-work, than of Nature; his Dress was not
less particular; he had on a Suit of Cloaths, which might perhaps have
been good in the Days of his Great Grand-father, but the Person who they
fitted must have been five times larger about the Body than him who wore
them; a large broad buff Belt however remedy’d that Inconvenience, and
girt them close about his Waste, in which hung a Faulchion, two Daggers,
and a Sword of a more than ordinary Extent; the rest of his Equipage was
a Cloak, which buttoning round his Neck fell not so low as his Hips, a
Hat, which in rainy weather kept his Shoulders dry much better than an
_Indian_ Umbrella, one Glove, and a formidable pair of Whiskers. As soon
as he saw the _Count_, my Lord, said he, with a very impudent Air, my
Orders were to bring your self, not a Letter from you, nor do I use to be
employ’d in Affairs of this Nature, but to serve one of the richest and
most beautiful Ladies in _Rome_, who I assure you, it will be dangerous
to disoblige. _D’elmont_ ey’d him intentively all the time he spoke,
and cou’d scarce, notwithstanding his Chagreen, forbear Laughing at the
Figure he made, and the manner of his Salutation. I know not, answer’d
he, Ironically, what Employments you have been us’d to, but certainly you
appear to me, one of the most unfit Persons in the World for what you
now undertake, and if the Contents of the Paper you brought me, had not
inform’d me of your Abilities this Way, I should never have suspected you
for one of _Cupid_’s Agents: You are merry, my Lord, reply’d the other,
but I must tell you, I am a Man of Family and Honour, and shall not put
up an Affront; but, continued he, shaking the few Hairs which frequent
Skirmishes had left upon his Head, I shall defer my own satisfaction
’till I have procur’d the Ladies; therefore, if your Lordship will
prepare to follow, I shall walk before, at a perceivable Distance, and
without St. _Peter_’s Key, open the Gate of Heaven. I should be apt (said
the _Count_, not able to keep his Countenance at these Words) rather to
take it for the other Place; but be it as it will; I have not the least
Inclination to make the Experiment, therefore, you may walk as soon as
you please without expecting me to accompany you. Then you absolutely
refuse to go (cry’d the Fellow, clapping his Hand on his Forhead, and
staring at him, as if he meant to scare him into Compliance!) Yes
(answer’d the _Count_, laughing more and more) I shall neither go, nor
waste any farther time or Words with you, so wou’d advise you not to be
saucy, or tarry till my Anger gets the better of my Mirth, but take the
Letter and be gone, and trouble me no more. The other, at these Words
laid his Hand on his Sword, and was about to make some very impudent
Reply, when _D’elmont_, growing weary of his Impertinence, made a Sign
to his Servants, that they should turn him out, which he perceiving,
took up the Letter without being bid a second time, and muttering some
unintelligible Curses between his Teeth, march’d out, in the same
affected Strut, with which he enter’d.
This Adventure, tho’ surprizing enough to a Person so entirely
unacquainted with the Character and Behaviour of these _Bravo_’s, as
_D’elmont_ was, gave him but very little matter of Reflection, and it
being the time for Evening Service at St. _Peter_’s, he went, according
to his Custom, to hear _Vesper_’s there.
Nothing is more Common, than for the Nobility and Gentry of _Rome_,
to divert themselves with Walking, and talking to one another in the
_Collonade_ after Mass, and the _Count_, tho’ averse to all other publick
Assemblies, wou’d sometimes spend an Hour or two there.
As he was walking there this Evening, a Lady of a very gallant Mein
pass’d swiftly by him, and flurting out her Handkerchief with a careless
Air, as it were by Chance, drop’d an _Agnus Dei_ set round with Diamonds
at his Feet, he had too much Complaisance to neglect endeavouring to
overtake the Lady, and prevent the Pain he imagin’d she wou’d be in,
when she shou’d miss so rich a Jewel: But she, who knew well enough what
she had done, left the Walk where the Company were, and cross’d over
to the Fountain, which being more retir’d was the most proper for her
Design: She stood looking on the Water, in a thoughtful Posture, when
the _Count_ came up to her, and bowing, with an Air peculiar to himself,
and which all his Chagreen could not deprive of an irresistable Power of
attraction, Presented the _Agnus Dei_ to her. I think my self, Madam,
said he, highly indebted to Fortune, for making me the means of your
recovering a Jewel, the Loss of which wou’d certainly have given you
some disquiet: Oh Heavens! cry’d she, receiving it with an affected Air
of Surprize, could a Trifle like this, which I knew not that I had let
fall, nor perhaps shou’d have thought on more, cou’d this, and belonging
to a Woman too, meet the Regard of him, who prides in his Insensibility?
Him! Who has no Eyes for Beauty, nor no Heart for Love! As she spoke
these Words she contriv’d to let her Vail fall back as if by Accident,
and discover’d a Face, Beautiful even to Perfection! Eyes black and
sparkling, a Mouth form’d to Invite, a Skin dazlingly white, thro’ which
a most delightful Bloom diffus’d a chearful Warmth, and glow’d in amorous
Blushes on her Cheeks. The _Count_ could not forbear gazing on her
with Admiration, and perhaps, was, for a Moment, pretty near receeding
from that Insensibility she had reproach’d him with; but the Image of
MELLIORA, yet unenjoy’d, all ravishingly Kind and Tender, rose presently
in his Soul, fill’d all his Faculties, and left no Passage free for
rival Charms. Madam, said he after a little Pause, the _Italian_ Ladies
take care to skreen their too dazling Lustre behind a Cloud, and, if I
durst take that Liberty, have certainly reason to Tax your Accusation
of Injustice; he, on whom the Sun has never vouchsafed to shine, ought
not to be condemn’d for not acknowledging its brightness; yours is the
first Female Face I have beheld, since my Arrival here, and it wou’d have
been as ridiculous to have feign’d my self susceptible of Charms which
I had never seen, as it wou’d be Stupidity, not to confess those I now
do, worthy Adoration. Well, resum’d she smiling, if not the _Lover_’s,
I find, you know how to Act the _Courtier_’s Part, but continued she,
looking languishingly on him, all you can say, will scarce make me
believe, that there requires not a much brighter Sun than mine, to Thaw
a certain Frozen _Resolution_, you pretend to have made. There need no
more to confirm the _Count_ in the Opinion he had before conceiv’d, that
this was the Lady from whom he had receiv’d the two Letters that Day,
and thought he had now the fairest Opportunity in the World to put an
End to her Passion, by assuring her how impossible it was for him ever
to return it, and was forming an Answer to that purpose; when a pretty
deal of Company coming toward them, she drew her Vail over her Face, and
turning hastily from him, mingled with some Ladies, who seem’d to be of
her Acquaintance.
The _Count_ knew by experience, the unutterable Perturbations of
Suspence, and what agonizing Tortures rend an amorous Soul, divided
betwixt Hope and Fear: Despair itself is not so Cruel as Uncertainty,
and in all Ills, especially in those of Love, it is less Misery to
_Know_, than _Dread_ the worst. The Remembrance of what he had suffer’d
thus agitated, in the Beginning of his Passion for _Melliora_, made him
extreamly pity the unknown Lady, and regret her sudden Departure; because
it had prevented him from setting her into so much of his Circumstances,
as he believ’d were necessary to induce her to recall her Heart. But
when he consider’d how much he had struggled, and how far he had been
from being able to repel Desire, he began to wonder that it cou’d ever
enter into his Thoughts that there was even a possibility for _Woman_, so
much stronger in her Fancy, and weaker in her Judgment, to suppress the
Influence of that powerful Passion; against which, no Laws, no Rules, no
Force of Reason, or Philosophy, are sufficient Guard.
These Reflections gave no small Addition to his Melancholy; _Amena_’s
Retirement from the World; _Alovisa_’s Jealousy and Death; _Melliora_’s
Peace of Mind and Reputation, and the Despair of several, whom he was
sensible, the Love of him, had rendred miserable, came fresh into his
Memory, and he look’d on himself as most unhappy, in being the occasion
of making others so.
The Night which succeeded this Day of Adventures, chancing to be abroad
pretty late; as he was passing thro’ a Street, he heard a Clashing of
Swords, and going nearer to the place where the Noise was, he perceiv’d
by some Lights which glimmer’d from a distant Door, a Gentleman defending
himself with much Bravery against Three, who seem’d eager for his Death.
_D’elmont_ was mov’d to the highest Indignation at the sight of such
Baseness; and drawing his Sword, flew furiously on the Assassins, just as
one of them was about to run his Sword into the Breast of the Gentleman;
who, by the breaking of his own Blade, was left unarm’d. _Turn Villain_,
cry’d D’elmont, _or while you are acting that Inhumanly, receive the
just Reward of it from me_. The Ruffian fac’d about immediately, and made
a Pass at him, while one of his Comrades did the same on the other side;
and the third was going to execute on the Gentleman, what his fellows
Surprize had made him leave undone: But he now gain’d Time to pull a
Pistol out of his Pocket, with which he shot him in a Moment dead, and
snatching his Sword from him as he fell, ran to assist the _Count_, who
’tis likely wou’d have stood in need of it, being engag’d with two, and
those the most desparate sort of _Bravo’s_, Villains that make a Trade
of Death. But the Noise of the Pistol made them apprehensive there was a
farther Rescue, and put ’em to flight. The Gentleman seem’d agitated with
a more than ordinary Fury; and instead of staying to Thank the _Count_,
or enquire how he had escap’d, ran in pursuit of those who had assaulted
him, so swiftly, that it was in vain for the _Count_, not being well
acquainted with the Turnings of the Streets, to attempt to follow him, if
he had a Mind to it: But seeing there was a Man kill’d, and not knowing
either the Persons who fought, or the occasion of their Quarrel, he
rightly judg’d, that being a Stranger in the place, his Word wou’d not be
very readily taken in his own Vindication; therefore thought his wisest
Course wou’d be to make off, with what Speed he cou’d, to his Lodging.
While he was considering, he saw something on the Ground which glitter’d
extreamly; and taking it up, found that it was part of the Sword which
the assaulted Gentleman had the Misfortune to have broke: The Hilt was of
a fine Piece of Agate, set round on the Top with Diamonds, which made him
believe the Person whom he had preserv’d, was of considerable Quality, as
well as Bravery.
He had not gone many Paces from the place where the Skirmish happened,
before a Cry of Murder met his Ears, and a great Concourse of People
his Eyes: He had receiv’d two or three slight Wounds, which, tho’ not
much more than Skin-deep, had made his Linnen bloody, and he knew wou’d
be sufficient to make him be apprehended, if he were seen, which it was
very difficult to avoid: He was in a narrow Street, which had no Turning,
and the Crowd was very near him, when looking round him with a good deal
of Vexation in his Thoughts, he discern’d a Wall, which in one part of
it seem’d pretty low: He presently resolv’d to climb it, and trust to
Fortune for what might befall him on the other side, rather than stay
to be expos’d to the Insults of the Outrageous Mob; who, ignorant of
his Quality, and looking no farther than the outside of Things, wou’d
doubtless have consider’d him no otherwise, than a Midnight _Rioter_.
When he was got over the Wall, he found himself in a very fine Garden,
adorn’d with Fountains, Statues, Groves, and every Ornament, that Art,
or Nature, cou’d produce, for the Delight of the Owner: At the upper End
there was a Summer-house, into which he went, designing to stay ’till the
Search was over.
But He had not been many Moments in his Concealment before he saw a Door
open from the House, and two Women come out; they walk’d directly up to
the place where he was; he made no doubt but that they design’d to enter,
and retir’d into the farthest Corner of it: As they came pretty near,
he found they were earnest in Discourse, but cou’d understand nothing
of what they said, ’till she, who seem’d to be the Chief, raising her
Voice a little higher than she had done: Talk no more, _Brione_ said
she, if e’re thy Eyes are Blest to see this Charmer of my Soul, thou
wil’t cease to wonder at my Passion; great as it is, ’tis wanting of
his Merit.----Oh! He is more than Raptur’d Poets feign, or Fancy can
invent! Suppose Him so, (_cry’d the other_,) yet still he wants that
Charm which shou’d Endear the others to you---Softness,---Heavens! To
Return your Letters! To Insult your Messenger! To slight such Favours as
any Man of Soul wou’d die to obtain! Methinks such Usage shou’d make
him odious to you,---even I shou’d scorn so spiritless a Wretch. Peace,
thou Prophaner, _said the Lady in an angry Tone_, such Blasphemy deserves
a Stab----But thou hast never heard his Voice, nor seen his Eyes, and I
forgive Thee. Have you then spoke to him, _interrupted the Confidant_,
Yes, _answer’d the Lady_, and by that Conversation, am more undone than
ever; it was to tell thee this Adventure, I came to Night into this
agreeable Solitude. With these Words they came into the Summer-house,
and the Lady seating her self on a Bench; Thou know’st, _resum’d she_, I
went this Evening to Saint _Peter_’s, there I saw the glorious Man; saw
him in all his Charms; and while I bow’d my Knee, in show to Heaven, my
Soul was prostrate only to him. When the Ceremony was over, perceiving
he stay’d in the _Collonade_, I had no power to leave it, but stood,
regardless who observ’d me, gazing on him with Transports, which only
those who Love like me, can guess!---God! With what an Air he walk’d!
What new Attractions dwelt in every Motion---And when he return’d the
Salutes of any that pass’d by him, how graceful was his Bow! How lofty
his Mein, and yet, how affable!----A sort of an inexpressible awful
Grandeur, blended with tender Languishments, strikes the amaz’d Beholder
at once with Fear and Joy!---Something beyond Humanity shines round him!
Such looks descending Angels wear, when sent on Heavenly Embassies to
some Favourite Mortal! Such is their Form! Such Radient Beams they dart;
and with such Smiles they temper their Divinity with Softness!---Oh! With
what Pain did I restrain my self from flying to him! from rushing into
his Arms! From hanging on his Neck, and wildly uttering all the furious
Wishes of my burning Soul!-----I trembled-----panted----rag’d with inward
Agonies. Nor was all the Reason I cou’d muster up, sufficient to bear me
from his Sight, without having first spoke to him. To that end I ventur’d
to pass by him, and drop’d an _Agnus Dei_ at his Feet, believing that
wou’d give him an Occasion of following me, which he did immediately, and
returning it to me, discover’d a new Hoard of unimagin’d Charms----All my
fond Soul confess’d before of his Perfections, were mean to what I now
beheld! Had’st thou but seen how he approach’d me--with what an awful
Reverence---with what a soft beseeching, yet commanding Air, he kiss’d
the happy Trifle, as he gave it me, thou would’st have envy’d it as
well as I! At last he spoke, and with an Accent so Divine, that if the
sweetest Musick were compar’d to the more Celestial Harmony of his Voice,
it wou’d only serve to prove how vastly _Nature_ do’s excell all _Art_.
But, Madam, _cry’d the other_, I am impatient to know the End of this
Affair; for I presume you discover’d to him both what, and who you were?
My Face only, reply’d the Lady, for e’re I had opportunity to do more,
that malicious Trifler, _Violetta_, perhaps envious of my Happiness,
came toward us with a Crowd of Impertinents at her Heels. Curse on the
Interruption, and broke off our Conversation, just at that Blest, but
Irrecoverable Moment, when I perceiv’d in my Charming Conqueror’s Eyes,
a growing Tenderness, sufficient to encourage me to reveal my own.
Yes, _Brione_, those lovely Eyes, while fix’d on mine, shone, with a
Lustre, uncommon, even to themselves---A livelier Warmth o’erspread his
Cheeks----Pleasure sat smiling on his Lips----those Lips, my Girl, which
even when they are silent, speak; but when unclos’d, and the sweet Gales
of balmy Breath blow on you, he kills you in a Sigh; each hurry’d Sense
is ravish’d and your Soul glows with Wonder and Delight. Oh! To be forc’d
to leave him in this Crisis, when new desire began to dawn; when Love its
most lively Symptoms was apparent, and seem’d to promise all my Wishes
covet, what Separation ever was so cruel? Compose your self, dear Madam,
said _Brione_, if he be really in Love; as who so Insensible as not to be
so, that once has seen your Charms? That _Love_ will teach him speedily
to find out an opportunity as favourable as that which you have lately
miss’d; or if he shou’d want Contrivance to procure his own Happiness,
’tis but your writing to appoint a Meeting. He must---He shall be mine!
Cry’d the Lady in a Rapture, My Love, fierce as it was before, from Hope
receives Addition to its Fury; I rave---I burn---I am mad with wild
Desires---I die, _Brione_, if I not possess him. In speaking these Words,
she threw her self down on a Carpet which was spread upon the Floor; and
after sighing two or three times, continued to discover the Violence of
her impatient Passion in this manner: Oh that this Night, said she, were
past,---the Blisful Expectation of to morrows Joys, and the distracting
Doubts of Disappointment, swell my unequal beating Heart by turns, and
rack me with Vicissitudes of Pain-----I cannot live and bear it----soon
as the Morning breaks, I’ll know my Doom----I’ll send to him----but
’tis an Age till then----Oh that I cou’d sleep---Sleep might perhaps
anticipate the Blessing, and bring him in Idea to my Arms----but ’tis in
vain to hope one Moment’s cool Serenity in Love like mine--my anxious
Thoughts hurry my Senses in Eternal Watchings!---Oh _D’elmont! D’elmont!_
Tranquill, Cold, and Calm _D’elmont!_ Little doest thou guess the Tempest
thou hast rais’d within my Soul, nor know’st to pity these consuming
Fires!
The _Count_ list’ned to all this Discourse with a World of Uneasiness and
Impatience; and tho’ at the first he fancy’d he remember’d the Voice, and
had Reason enough from the beginning, especially when the _Agnus Dei_ was
mention’d, to believe it cou’d be no other than himself, whom the Lady
had so passionately describ’d; yet he had not Confidence to appear till
she had nam’d him; but then, no consideration was of force to make him
neglect this opportunity of undeceiving her; his good Sense, as well as
good Nature, kept him from that Vanity, too many of his Sex imitate the
weaker in, of being pleas’d that it was in his Power to create Pains,
which it was not in his Power, so devoted as he was, to Ease.