Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

But while the _Count_ and _Chevalier_ were thus Employ’d,
the Rival Ladies past their Hours in a very different
Entertainment, the despair and bitter Lamentations that the
unfortunate AMENA made, when she came out of her swooning, were
such as mov’d even ALOVISA to Compassion, and if any thing
but resigning D’ELMONT cou’d have given her Consolation, she
wou’d willing have apply’d it. There was now no need of further
Dissimulation, and she confessed to AMENA, that she had Lov’d
the Charming _Count_ with a kind of Madness from the first
Moment she beheld him: That to favour her Designs on him, she
had made use of every Stratagem she cou’d invent, that by her
means, the Amour was first discover’d to _Monsieur_ SANSEVERIN,
and his Family Alarm’d the Night before; and Lastly, that by
her Persuasions, he had resolv’d to send her to a Monastry, to
which she must prepare her self to go in a few Days without
taking any leave even of her Father; have you (cry’d AMENA
hastily interrupting her) have you prevail’d with my Father to
send me from this hated Place without the Punishment of hearing
his upbraidings? Which the other answering in the Affirmative,
I thank you, resum’d AMENA, that Favour has cancell’d all your
Score of Cruelty, for after the Follies I have been guilty of,
nothing is so dreadful as the Sight of him. And, who wou’d, oh
Heavens! (continued she bursting into a Flood of Tears) wish
to stay in a World so full of Falshood. She was able to utter
no more for some Moments, but at last, raising herself on the
Bed where she was laid, and endeavouring to seem a little
more compos’d: I have two Favours, Madam, yet to ask of you
(rejoin’d she) neither of ’em will, I believe, seem difficult
to you to grant, that you will make use of the Power you have
with my Father, to let my Departure be as sudden as possible,
and that while I am here, I may never see Count D’ELMONT. It
was not likely that ALOVISA shou’d deny Requests so suitable
to her own Inclinations, and believing, with a great deal of
Reason, that her Presence was not very grateful, left her to
the Care of her Women, whom she order’d to attend her with the
same Diligence as herself. It was Evening before the Count
came, and ALOVISA spent the remainder of the Day in very
uneasie Reflections; she knew not, as yet, whether she had
Cause to rejoyce in, or blame her Fortune in so unexpectedly
discovering her Passion, and an incessant vicissitude of Hope
and Fears, rack’d her with most intollerable Inquietude, till
the darling Object of her Wishes appear’d; and tho’ the first
sight of him, added to her other Passions, that of Shame, yet
he manag’d his Address so well, and so modestly and artfully
hinted the Knowledge of his Happiness, that every Sentiment
gave place to a new Admiration of the Wonders of his Wit; and
if before she lov’d, she now ador’d, and began to think it a
kind of Merit in herself, to be sensible of his. He soon put
it in her Power to oblige him, by giving her the History of
his Brother’s Passion for her Sister, and she was not at all
backward in assuring him how much she approv’d of it, and that
she wou’d write to ANSELLINA by the first Post, to engage her
coming to _Paris_ with all imaginable Speed. In fine, there
was nothing He cou’d ask, refus’d, and indeed it would have
been ridiculous for her to have affected Coyness, after the
Testimonies she had long since given him of one of the most
violent Passions that ever was; this fore-Knowledge sav’d
abundance of Dissimulation on both Sides, and she took care
that if he should be wanting in his kind Expressions after
Marriage, he should not have it in his Power to pretend (as
some Husbands have done) that his Stock was exhausted in a
tedious Courtship. Everything was presently agreed upon, and
the Wedding Day appointed, which was to be as soon as every
thing cou’d be got ready to make it Magnificent; tho’ the
_Count’s_ good Nature made him desirous to learn something of
AMENA, yet he durst not enquire, for fear of giving an Umbrage
to his intended Bride; but she, imagining the Reason of his
Silence, very frankly told him, how she was to be dispos’d
of, this Knowledge made no small Addition to his Contentment,
for had she stay’d in _Paris_, he could expect nothing but
continual Jealousies from ALOVISA; besides, as he really
wish’d her happy, tho’ he could not make her so, he thought
Absence might banish a hopeless Passion from her Heart, and
Time and other Objects efface an Idea, which could not but be
destructive to her Peace. He stay’d at ALOVISA’S House ’till it
was pretty late, and perhaps they had not parted in some Hours
longer, if his impatience to inform his Brother his Success,
had not carried him away. The young _Chevalier_ was infinitely
more transported at the bare Hopes of being something nearer
the Aim of all his Hopes, than D’ELMONT was at the Assurance
of losing his in Possession, and could not forbear rallying
him for placing the ultimate of his Wishes on such a Toy, as
he argu’d Woman was, which the _Chevalier_ endeavouring to
confute, there began a very warm Dispute, in which, neither of
’em being able to convince the other, Sleep at last interpos’d
as Moderator. The next Day they went together to visit ALOVISA,
and from that time were seldom asunder: But in Compassion to
AMENA, they took what Care they could to conceal the Design
they had in Hand, and that unhappy Lady was in a few Days,
according to her Rival’s Contrivance, hurried away, without
seeing any of her Friends. When she was gone, and there was no
farther need of keeping it a Secret, the News of this great
Wedding was immediately spread over the whole Town, and every
one talk’d of it as their particular Interests or Affections
dictated. All D’ELMONT’S Friends were full of Joy, and he
met no inconsiderable Augmentation of it himself, when his
Brother receiv’d a Letter from ANSELLINA, with an Account,
that BELPINE’S Wound was found not Dangerous, and that he was
in a very fair way of Recovery. And it was concluded, that as
soon as the Wedding was over, the _Chevalier_ should go in
Person to AMIENS, and fetch his belov’d ANSELLINA, in order
for a Second, and as much desir’d Nuptial. There was no Gloom
now left to Cloud the Gaiety of the happy Day, nothing could
be more Grand than the Celebration of it, and ALOVISA now
thought her self at the end of all her Cares; but the Sequel
of this glorious Beginning, and what Effect the Despair and
Imprecations of AMENA (when she heard of it) produc’d, shall,
with the continuance of the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S Adventures,
be faithfully related in the next Part.

End of the FIRST PART.

LOVE in _Excess_:
OR, THE
FATAL INQUIRY,
A
NOVEL.

PART the SECOND.

By _Mrs._ HAYWOOD.

_Each Day we break the bond of Humane Laws_
_For Love, and vindicate the common Cause._
_Laws for Defence of civil Rights are plac’d;_
_Love throws the Fences down, and makes a gen’ral waste_
_Maids, Widows, Wives, without distinction fall,_
_The sweeping deluge Love, comes on and covers all._

DRYDEN.

LONDON:
Printed for W. CHETWOOD, J. WOODMAN, D.
BROWN, and S. CHAPMAN.

LOVE in EXCESS:

OR, THE

FATAL ENQUIRY.

PART the SECOND.

The Contentment that appear’d in the Faces of the new Married Pair, added so much to the Impatience of the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN to see his belov’d ANSELLINA, that in a few Days after the Wedding, he took leave of them, and departed for _Amiens_: But as human Happiness is seldom of long continuance, and ALOVISA placing the Ultimate of _her’s_ in the Possession of her Charming Husband, secure of that, despis’d all future Events, ’twas time for _Fortune_, who long enough had smil’d, now to turn her Wheel, and punish the presumption that defy’d her Power.

As they were one Day at Dinner, a Messenger came to Acquaint _Count_ D’ELMONT that _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE was taken, suddenly, so violently Ill, that his Physicians despair’d of his Life; and that he beg’d to speak with him immediately: This Gentleman had been Guardian to the COUNT during his Minority, and the Care and Faithfulness with which that Trust had been Discharg’d, made him, with Reason, to regret the danger of losing so good a Friend: He delay’d the Visit not a Moment, and found him as the Servant had told him, in a Condition which cou’d cherish no hopes of Recovery, as soon as he perceiv’d the COUNT come into the Chamber, he desir’d to be left alone with him, which Order being presently obey’d, My dear Charge, (said he taking him by the Hand, and pressing to his trembling Bosom) you see me at the point of Death, but the knowledge of your many Virtues, and the Confidence I have that you will not deny me the request I am about to ask, makes me support the Thoughts of it with Moderation. The other assuring him of his readiness to serve him in any Command, encourag’d the old Gentleman to prosecute his Discourse in this manner: You are not Ignorant, my Lord (Rejoin’d He) that my Son (the only one have) is on his Travels, gone by my Approbation, and his own Desires to make the Tour of _Europe_; but I have a Daughter, whose Protection I wou’d entreat you to undertake; her Education in a Monastery has hitherto kept her intirely unacquainted with the Gayeties of a Court, or the Conversation of the _Beau Monde_, and I have sent for her to _Paris_ purposely to Introduce her into Company, proper for a young Lady, who I never design’d for a Recluse; I know not whether she will be here time enough to close my Eyes, but if you will promise to receive her into your House, and not suffer her artless and unexperienc’d Youth to fall into those Snares which are daily laid for Innocence, and take so far a Care, that neither she, nor the Fortune I leave her, be thrown away upon a Man unworthy of her, I shall dye well satisfy’d. D’ELMONT answer’d this Request, with repeated assurances of fulfilling it, and frankly offer’d, if he had no other Person in whom he rather wou’d confide, to take the management of the whole Estate he left behind him, till young FRANKVILLE should return----The anxious Father was transported at this Favour, and thank’d him in Terms full of Gratitude and Affection; they spent some Hours in settling this Affair, and perhaps had not ended it so soon, if Word had not been brought that the young Lady his Daughter was alighted at the Gate; ’tis impossible to express the Joy which fill’d the old Gentleman’s Heart at this News, and he began afresh to put the COUNT in mind of what he had promis’d concerning her: As they were in this endearing, tho’ mournful Entertainment, the matchless MELLIORA enter’d, the Surprize and Grief for her Father’s Indisposition (having heard of it but since she came into the House) hindered her from regarding any thing but him, and throwing herself on her Knees by the Bed-side, wash’d the Hand which he stretch’d out to raise her with, in a flood of Tears, accompany’d with Expressions, which, unstudy’d and incoherent as they were, had a delicacy in ’em, that show’d her Wit not inferiour to her Tenderness; and that no Circumstance cou’d render her otherwise than the most lovely Person in the World; when the first transports of her Sorrow were over, and that with much ado she was persuaded to rise from the Posture she was in: The Affliction I see thee in my Dear Child, (said her Father) wou’d be a vast addition to the Agonies I feel, were I not so happy as to be provided with Means for a mitigation of it, think not in losing me thou wilt be left wholly an Orphan, this worthy Lord will dry thy Tears. Therefore, my last Commands to thee shall be, to oblige thee to endeavour to deserve the Favours he is pleas’d to do us in accepting thee for---He wou’d have proceeded, but his Physicians (who had been in Consultation in the next Room) coming in prevented him, and _Count_ D’ELMONT taking the charming MELLIORA by the Hand, led her to the Window, and beginning to speak some Words of Consolation to her, the softness of his Voice, and graceful Manner with which he deliver’d himself (always the inseparable Companions of his Discourse, but now more particularly so) made her cast her Eyes upon him; but alas, he was not an Object to be safely gaz’d at, and in spight of the Grief she was in, she found something in his Form which dissipated it; a kind of painful Pleasure, a mixture of Surprize, and Joy, and doubt, ran thro’ her in an instant; her Fathers Words suggested to her Imagination, that she was in a possibility of calling the charming Person that stood before her, by a Name more tender than that of Guardian, and all the Actions, Looks, and Address of D’ELMONT serv’d but to confirm her in that Belief. For now it was, that this insensible began to feel the Power of Beauty, and that Heart which had so long been Impregnable, surrender’d in a Moment; the first sight of MELLIORA gave him a Discomposure he had never felt before, he Sympathiz’d in all her Sorrows, and was ready to joyn his Tears with hers, but when her Eyes met his, the God of Love seem’d there to have united all his Lightnings for one effectual Blaze, their Admiration of each others Perfections was mutual, and tho’ he had got the start in Love, as being touch’d with that Almighty Dart, before her Affliction had given her leave to regard him, yet the softness of her Soul made up for that little loss of time, and it was hard to say whose Passion was the Strongest; she listned to his Condolements, and assurances of everlasting Friendship, with a pleasure which was but too visible in her Countenance, and more enflam’d the COUNT. As they were exchanging Glances, as if each vyed with the other who should dart the fiercest Rays, they heard a sort of ominous Whispering about the Bed, and presently one of those who stood near it, beckon’d them to come thither; the Physicians had found _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE in a much worse Condition than they left him in, and soon after perceiv’d evident Symptoms in him of approaching Death, and indeed there were but a very few Moments between him and that other unfathomable World; the use of Speech had left him, and he cou’d take no other leave of his dear Daughter than with his Eyes; which sometimes were cast tenderly on her, sometimes on the COUNT, with a beseeching Look, as it were, to Conjure him to be careful of his Charge; then up to Heaven, as witness of the Trust he reposed in him. There cou’d not be a Scene more Melancholly than this dumb Farewell, and MELLIORA, whose soft Disposition had never before been shock’d, had not Courage to support so dreadful a one as this, but fell upon the Bed just as her Father Breath’d his last, as motionless as he. It is impossible to represent the Agony’s which fill’d the Heart of D’ELMONT at this View, he took her in his Arms, and assisted those who were endeavouring to recover her, with a wildness in his Countenance, a trembling Horror shaking all his Fabrick in such a manner, as might have easily discover’d to the Spectators (if they had not been too busily employ’d to take notice of it) that he was Actuated by a Motive far more powerful than that of Compassion. As soon as she came to herself, they forc’d her from the Dead Body of her Father (to which she Clung) and carried her into another Room, and it being judg’d convenient that she should be remov’d from that House, where every thing wou’d serve but to remind her of her Loss, the COUNT desir’d the Servants of _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE shou’d be call’d, and then in the presence of ’em all, declar’d their Master’s last Request, and order’d an Account of all Affairs shou’d be brought to his House, where he wou’d immediately Conduct their young Lady, as he had promis’d to her Father. If MELLIORA had been without any other cause of Grief, this Eclaircissment had been sufficient to have made her Miserable: She had already entertained a most tender Affection for the COUNT, and had not so little discernment as not to be sensible she had made the like Impression on him; but now she wak’d as from a Dream of promis’d Joys, to certain Woes, and the same Hour which gave Birth to her Passion, commenc’d an adequate Despair, and kill’d her Hopes just budding.

Indeed there never was any Condition so truly deplorable as that of this unfortunate Lady; she had just lost a dear and tender Father, whose Care was ever watchful for her, her Brother was far off, and she had no other Relation in the World to apply her self to for Comfort, or Advice; not even an Acquaintance at _Paris_, or Friend, but him who but newly was become so, and whom she found it dangerous to make use of, whom she knew it was a Crime to Love, yet cou’d not help Loving; the more she thought, the more she grew Distracted, and the less able to resolve on any Thing; a thousand Times she call’d on Death to give her ease, but that pale Tyrant flies from the Pursuer, she had not been yet long enough acquainted with the ills of Life, and must endure (how unwilling soever) her part of Sufferings in common with the rest of human kind.

As soon as D’ELMONT had given some necessary Directions to the Servants, he came to the Couch, where she was sitting in a fix’d and silent Sorrow (tho’ inwardly toss’d with various and violent Agitations) and offering her his Hand, entreated her to permit him to wait on her from that House of Woe. Alas! Said she, to what purpose shou’d I remove, who bear my Miseries about me? Wretch that I am!---a flood of Tears, here interpos’d, and hindred her from proceeding, which falling from such lovely Eyes, had a Magnetick Influence to draw the same from every beholder; but D’ELMONT who knew that was not the way to Comfort her, dry’d his as soon as possible, and once more beg’d she wou’d depart; suffer my return then (answer’d she) to the Monastery, for what have I to do in _Paris_ since I have lost my Father? By no means, Madam (resum’d the _Count_ hastily) that were to disappoint your Fathers Designs, and contradict his last Desires; believe most lovely MELLIORA (continu’d he taking her by the Hand and letting fall some Tears which he cou’d not restrain, upon it) that I bear at least an equal Share in your Affliction, and lament for you, and for my self: Such a regard my grateful Soul paid _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE for all his wondrous Care and Goodness to me, that in his Death methinks I am twice an Orphan. But Tears are fruitless to reinspire his now cold Clay, therefore must transmit the Love and Duty I owed him living, to his Memory Dead, and an exact performance of his Will; and since he thought me worthy of so vast a Trust as MELLIORA, I hope she will be guided by her Fathers Sentiments, and believe that D’ELMONT (tho’ a Stranger to her) has a Soul not uncapable of Friendship. Friendship! Did I say? (rejoyn’d he softning his Voice) that term is too mean to express a Zeal like mine, the Care, the Tenderness, the Faith, the fond Affection of Parents,---Brothers, ---Husbands,---Lovers, all Compriz’d in one! One great Unutterable! Comprehensive Meaning, is mine! for MELLIORA! She return’d no Answer but Sighs, to all he said to her; but he renewing his Entreaties, and urging her Father’s Commands, she was at last prevail’d upon to go into his Chariot, which had waited at the Door all the Time of his being there.

As they went, he left nothing unsaid that he believ’d might tend to her Consolation, but she had Griefs which at present he was a Stranger to; and his Conversation, in which she found a thousand Charms, rather Encreas’d, than Diminish’d the trouble she was in: Every Word, every Look of his, was a fresh Dagger to her Heart, and in spight of the Love she bore her Father, and the unfeign’d Concern his sudden Death had given her, she was now convinc’d that COUNT D’ELMONT’S Perfections were her severest Wounds.

When they came to his House, He presented her to ALOVISA, and giving her a brief Account of what had happened, engag’d that Lady to receive her with all imaginable Demonstrations of Civility and Kindness.

He soon left the two Ladies together, pretending Business, but indeed to satisfie his Impatience, which long’d for an opportunity to meditate on this Adventure. But his Reflections were now grown far less pleasing than they used to be; real Sighs flew from his Breast uncall’d: And MELLIORA’S Image in dazling Brightness! In terrible Array of killing Charms; Fir’d Him with (impossible to be attain’d) Desires: he found by sad Experience what it was to Love, and to Despair. He Admir’d! Ador’d! And wish’d, even to Madness! Yet had too much Honour, too much Gratitude for the Memory of Monsieur FRANKVILLE; and too sincere an Awe for the lovely Cause of his Uneasiness, to form a Thought that cou’d encourage his new Passion. What wou’d he not have given to have been Unmarried? How often did he Curse the Hour in which ALOVISA’S fondness was discover’d? And how much more his own Ambition, which prompted him to take Advantage of it, and hurry’d him Precipitately to a Hymen, where Love, (the noblest Guest) was wanting? It was in these racks of Thought, that the unfortunate AMENA was remembr’d, and he cou’d not forbear acknowledging the Justice of that Doom, which inflicted on him, these very Torments he had given her. A severe Repentance seiz’d on his Soul, and ALOVYSA for whom he never had any thing more than an Indifferency; now began to seem Distasteful to his Fancy, he look’d on her, as indeed she was, the chief Author of AMENA’S Misfortunes, and abhorr’d her for that Infidelity. But when he consider’d her, as the Bar ’twixt Him and MELLIORA she appear’d like his ill Genius to him, and he cou’d not support the Thoughts of being oblig’d to love her (or at least to seem as if he did) with Moderation. In the midst of these Reflections his Servant came in and deliver’d a Letter to him which had been just left by the Post. The COUNT immediately knew the Hand to be AMENA’S, and was cover’d with the utmost Confusion and Remorse when he read these Lines.

To the too Charming and Perfidious D’ELMONT.

_Now Hopes, and Fears, and Jealousies are over! Doubt is no
more! You are for ever lost! And my unfaithful, happy Rival!
Triumphs in your Arms, and my Undoing!----I need not wish
you Joy, the haste you made to enter into Hymen’s Bonds, and
the more than ordinary Pomp with which that Ceremony was
Celebrated, assures me you are highly satisfied with your
Condition; and that any future Testimonies of the Friendship
of so wretched a Creature as AMENA, wou’d be receiv’d by you,
with the same Disregard, as those she has given you of a more
tender Passion.----Shameful Remembrance! Oh that I cou’d Blot
it out!----Erace from the Book of Time those fond deluded
Hours! Forget I ever saw the Lovely false D’ELMONT! Ever
listned to his soft persuasive Accents! And thought his love
a mighty Price for Ruin------My Father writes that you are
Married, Commands my Return to Paris, and assume an Air as Gay,
and Chearful as that with which I used to appear.----Alas! How
little does he know his Daughters Heart? And how impossible
is it, for me to Obey him, can I look on you as the Husband
of ALOVYSA, without remembring you were once the Lover of
AMENA? Can Love like mine, so fierce, so passionately, tender,
e’re sink to a calm, cold Indifference? Can I behold the fond
Endearments of your bridal Joys (which you’d not be able to
Restrain, even before me) and not burst with Envy? No, the
Sight wou’d turn me quite Distracted, and I shou’d commit some
Desperate Violence that wou’d Undoe us all.---Therefore, I hide
my self for ever from it, bid an everlasting Adieu to all the
gay Delights and Pleasures of my Youth.-----To all the Pomp
and Splendor of the Court.-----To all that the mistaken World
calls Happiness.---To Father, Friends, Relations, all that’s
Dear----But your Idea, and that, not even these consecrated
Walls, nor Iron Gates keep out; Sleeping or Waking you are
ever with me, you mingle with my most solemn Devotions; and
while I Pray to Heaven that I may think on you no more, a
guilty Pleasure rises in my Soul, and contradicts my Vows! All
my Confessions are so many Sins, and the same Breath which
tells my Ghostly Father I abjure your Memory, speaks your dear
Name with Transport. Yes----Cruel! Ungrateful!---Faithless
as you are, I still do Love you----Love you to that infinite
degree, that now, methinks fir’d with thy Charms (repenting
all I’ve said) I cou’d wish even to renew those Moments of my
Ruin!----Pity me D’ELMONT, if thou hast Humanity.-----Judge
what the rackings of my Soul must be, when I resolve, with all
this Love, this Languishment about me; never to see you more._

_Every thing is preparing for my Reception into holy Orders,
(how unfit I am Heaven knows) and in a few Days I shall put on
the Vail which excludes me from the World for ever; therefore,
if these distracted Lines are worth an Answer, it must be
Speedy, or it will not come to my Hands. Perhaps not find me
Living.-----I can no more-----Farewel (thou dear Destroyer of
my Soul)_

_Eternally Farewel_, AMENA.

_P.S._ _I_ do not urge you to write, _Alovisa_ (I wish I
cou’d not say your Wife) will perhaps think it too great
a Condescention, and not suffer you so long from her
Embraces.----Yet if you can get loose.----But you know best
what’s proper to be done----Forgive the restlesness of a
dispairing Wretch, who cannot cease to Love, tho’ from this
Moment she must cease to tell you so---Once more, and for Ever,

Adieu.

Had this Letter came a Day sooner, ’tis probable it wou’d have had but little Effect on the Soul of D’ELMONT, but his Sentiments of Love were now so wholly chang’d, that what before he wou’d but have laugh’d at, and perhaps despis’d, now fill’d him with Remorse and serious Anguish. He read it over several Times, and found so many Proofs in it of a sincere and constant Affection, that he began to pity Her, with a Tenderness like that of a Relation, but no more: The charming MELLIORA had Engross’d all his fonder Wishes; else it is not impossible but that ALOVISA might have had more Reason to fear her Rivalship after Marriage, than before. That Lady having been without the presence of her dear Husband some Hours, had not patience to remain any longer without seeing Him, and making an excuse to MELLIORA for leaving her alone, came running to the Closet where he was; how unwelcome she was grown, the Reader may imagine, he receiv’d her, not as he was wont; the Gaity which used to sparkle in his Eyes, (at once declaring, and creating Amorous desires) now gave Place to a sullen Gloominess, he look’d not on her, or if by chance he did; ’twas more with Anger than with Love, in spite of his endeavours to conceal it, she was too quick sighted (as all are that truly Love) not to be sensible of this Alteration. However she took no notice of it, but Kissing and Embracing him (according to her Custom whenever they were alone) beg’d him to leave his solitary Amusement, and help her to Comfort the afflicted Lady he brought there. Her Endearments serv’d but to encrease his Peevishness, and heighten her Surprize at his Behaviour; and indeed, the Moment that she enter’d the Closet was the last of her Tranquility.

When with much perswasions she had prevail’d with him to go with her into the Room where MELLIORA was, he appeared so disorder’d at the second Sight of that Charmer, as wou’d certainly have let ALOVYSA into the secret of his Passion, had she not been retir’d to a Window to recover herself from the Confusion her Husbands coldness had thrown her in, and by that fortunate disregard of his Looks at that critical Instant, given him (who never wanted presence of Mind) leave to form both his Countenance and manner of Address, so as to give no suspicion of the Truth.

This little Company was very far from being Entertaining to one another; every one had their particular Cogitations, and were not displeas’d not to be Interrupted in them. It growing late, ALOVYSA conducted MELLIORA to a Chamber which she had order’d to be prepar’d for her, and then retir’d to her own, hoping that when the COUNT shou’d come to Bed, she might be able to make some Discovery of the Cause of his Uneasiness. But she was deceiv’d, he spoke not to her, and when by a thousand little Inventions she urg’d him to reply to what she said, it was in such a fashion as only let her see, that he was extreamly troubled at something, but cou’d not guess at what. As soon as Day broke, he rose, and shutting himself into his Closet, left her in the greatest Consternation imaginable; she cou’d not think it possible that the Death of _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE shou’d work this Transformation, and knew of no other Misfortune that had happened. At last she remembred she had heard one of the Servants say, a Letter was brought to their Master by the Post, and began to reflect on every Thing (in the power of _Fortune_ to determine) that cou’d threaten a Disturbance, yet was still as ignorant as ever. She lay not long in Bed, but putting on her Cloaths with more Expedition than usual went to the Closet, resolving to speak to him in a manner as shou’d oblige him to put an end to the uncertainty she was in, but finding the Door lock’d, her Curiosity made her look thro’ the Keyhole, and she saw him sometimes very intirely reading a Letter, and sometimes writing, as tho’ it were an Answer to it. A sudden Thought came into her Head, and she immediately went softly from the place where she was, without knocking at the Door, and stay’d in a little Chamber adjacent to it, where none could pass to, or from the Closet without being perceiv’d by her; she had not waited long, before she heard the _Count_ Ring, and presently saw a Servant enter, and soon after return with a Letter in his Hand; she wou’d not speak to him then, for fear of being over heard by her Husband, but followed him down Stairs, and when he came towards the bottom, call’d to him in a low Voice to tarry ’till she came to him; the Fellow durst not but Obey, and there being no body near ’em, commanded him to deliver her the Letter: But he either afraid or unwilling to betray his Trust, excus’d himself from it as well as he cou’d, but she was resolv’d to have it; and when Threats wou’d not avail, condescended to Entreaties, to which she added Bribes, which last Article join’d to the promise she made of never revealing it, won him to her Purpose. She had scarce patience to forbear opening it before she got to her Chamber: The Superscription (which she saw was for AMENA) fir’d her with Disdain and Jealousie, and it is hardly possible to imagine, much less to describe the Torrent of her Indignation, when she found that it contain’d these Words.

To the Lovely AMENA.

_You accuse me of Cruelty, when at the same Time you kill
me with yours: How Vile! How despicable, must I be grown in
your Opinion, when you believe I can be Happy, when you are
Miserable?---Can I enjoy the Pleasures of a Court, while you
are shut within a Cloyster?----Shall I suffer the World to
be depriv’d of such a Treasure as AMENA? For the Crime of
worthless D’ELMONT-----No, no Fair, injur’d Softness, Return,
and bless the Eyes of every Beholder! Shine out again in your
native Lustre, uneclips’d by Grief, the Star of Beauty and
the guide of Love.---And, if my unlucky Presence will be a
Damp to the Brightness of your Fires, I will for ever quit the
Place.----Tho’ I cou’d wish, you’d give me leave sometimes to
gaze upon you, and draw some hop’d Presages of future Fortune
from the Benignity of your Influence,---Yes, AMENA, I wou’d
sigh out my Repentance at your Feet, and try at least to obtain
a Pardon for my Infidelity.----For, ’tis true, what you have
heard,----I am Marry’d---But oh AMENA! Happiness is not always
an Attendant on HYMEN.--However, I yet may call you Friend--I
yet may Love you, tho’ in a different way from what I once
pretended to; and believe me, that the Love of Souls, as it
is the most uncommon, especially in our Sex, so ’tis the most
refin’d and noble of all Passions, and such a Love shall be
for ever yours. Even ALOVISA (who has robb’d you of the rest)
cannot justly resent my giving you that part,----You’ll wonder
at this Alteration in my Temper, but ’tis sincere, I am no
more the Gay, the Roving D’ELMONT, and when you come to PARIS,
perhaps you will find me in a Condition more liable to your
Pity than Indignation. What shall I say AMENA? My Crime is my
Punishment, I have offended against Love, and against you, and
am, if possible, as Miserable, as Guilty: Torn with Remorse,
and Tortur’d with----I cannot----must not Name it----but ’tis
something which can be term’d no other than the utmost severity
of my Fate.---Haste then to Pity me, to comfort, to advise
me, if (as you say) you yet retain any remains of your former
Tenderness for this Ungrateful Man_,

D’ELMONT.

Ungrateful indeed! Cry’d ALOVISA (Transported with Excess of Rage and Jealousie) Oh the Villain!---What Miseries! What Misfortunes are these thou talk’st of? What Unhappiness has waited on thy _Himen_? ’Tis I alone am wretched! base Deceiver!

Then, as if she wanted to discover something farther to heighten the Indignation she was in, she began to read it over again, and indeed the more she consider’d the meaning of what she read, the more her Passions swell’d, ’till they got at last the entire Dominion of her Reason: She tore the Letter in a thousand pieces, and was not much less unmerciful to her Hair and Garments. ’Tis possible, that in the Violence of her Fury, she might have forgot her promise to the Servant, to vent some part of it on her Husband, if her Woman coming into the Room to know if she was ready to dress, had not prevented her, by telling her the _Count_ was gone abroad, and had left Word, that he shou’d not return ’till the Evening. ALOVISA had thrown herself on the Bed, and the Curtains being drawn discover’d not the disorder she was in, and which her Pride made her willing shou’d be still a Secret, therefore dismist her with saying, she wou’d call her when she wanted any thing. Tho’ ALOVISA was too apt to give a loose to her Passions on every occasion, to the Destruction of her own Peace, yet she knew well enough how to disguise ’em, when ever she found the Concealing of them wou’d be an Advantage to her Designs: And when the Transports of her Rage was so far over, as to give her Liberty of Reflection, and she began to Examine the State of her Affection to the _Count_, she soon perceiv’d it had so much the better of all other Considerations, that in spite of the injustice she thought him guilty of to her, she cou’d not perswade her self to do any thing that might give him a pretence to Quarrel with her. She thought she had done enough in Intercepting this Letter, and did not doubt but that AMENA wou’d take his not writing to her so much to Heart, as to prevent her ever returning to _Paris_, and resolv’d to omit nothing of her former Endearments, or make a shew of being in the least disoblig’d; this sort of Carriage she imagin’d wou’d not only lay him more open and unguarded to the diligent watch she design’d to make on all his Words and Actions, but likewise awaken him to a just Sense of her Goodness, and his own Ingratitude.-----She rightly judg’d that when People are Marry’d, Jealousie was not the proper Method to revive a decay’d Passion, and that after Possession it must be only Tenderness, and constant Assiduity to please, that can keep up desire, fresh and gay: Man is too Arbitrary a Creature to bear the least Contradiction, where he pretends an absolute Authority, and that Wife who thinks by ill humour and perpetual Taunts, to make him weary of what she wou’d reclaim him from, only renders her self more hateful, and makes that justifiable which before was blameable in him. These, and the like Considerations made ALOVYSA put on a Countenance of Serenity, and she so well acted the part of an Unsuspecting Wife, that D’ELMONT was far from imagining what she had done: However he still behav’d with the same Caution as before, to MELLIORA; and certainly never did People disguise the Sentiments of their Souls more artfully than did these three---MELLIORA vail’d her secret Languishments, under the Covert of her grief for her Father, the COUNT his Burning anguish, in a gloomy Melancholy for the Loss of his Friend; but ALOVYSA’S Task was much the hardest, who had no pretence for grief (raging, and bleeding with neglected Love, and stifled Pride) to frame her Temper to a seeming Tranquility----All made it their whole study to deceive each other, yet none but ALOVYSA was intirely in the dark; for the _Count_ and MELLIORA had but too true a guess at one another’s meaning, every look of his, for he had Eyes that needed no Interpreter, gave her Intelligence of his Heart, and the Confusion which the understanding those looks gave her, sufficiently told him how sensible she was of ’em.----Several Days they liv’d in this Manner, in which time _Monsieur_ FRANKVILLE was Interr’d. Which Solemnity, the _Count_ took care shou’d be perform’d with a Magnificence suitable to the Friendship he publickly profest to have born him, and the secret Adoration his Soul paid to his Remains.

Nothing happned of Moment,’till a Day or two after the Funeral, a Gentleman newly arriv’d at _Paris_, came to visit the _Count_, and gave him an Account of AMENA’S having taken the Habit; how, (said D’ELMONT Interrupting him) is it possible?----Has she then profest? Yes, answer’d the Gentleman, having a Sister whom I always tenderly lov’d at the Monastery at St. _Dennis_, my affection oblig’d me to make it in my way to visit her. AMENA was with her at the Grate, when she receiv’d me; I know not how, among other Discourses, we hapned to talk of the fine Gentlemen of _Paris_, which it was Impossible to do, without mentioning Count D’ELMONT, the COUNT answer’d not this Complement as he wou’d have done at another time, but only bowing with an humble Air, gave him Liberty to prosecute his Discourse; the moment (resum’d he) that AMENA heard your Name, the Tears run from her fair Eyes; in such abundance, and she seem’d opprest with so violent a Grief, that she was not able to stay any longer with us. When she was gone, my Sister whom she had made her Confidant, gave me the History of her Misfortunes, and withal, told me, that the next Day she was to be Initiated into Holy Orders: My Curiosity engag’d me to stay at St. _Dennis_, to see the Ceremony perform’d, which was Solemn; but not with that Magnificence which I expected; it seems it was AMENA’S desire that it should be as private as possible, and for that Reason, none of her Relations were there, and several of the Formalities of Entrance omitted: After it was over, my Sister beckon’d me to come to the Grate, where I saw her before, and Conjur’d me in the Name of her new Sister, to give this to your Hands; in speaking these Words, he took a Letter out of his Pocket, which the COUNT immediately opening, to his great surprise, found it contain’d, as follows.

To the Inhuman D’ELMONT.

_To be pity’d by you, and that you shou’d tell me so, was all
the recompence I ask’d for Loss of Father, Friends, Reputation,
and Eternal Peace; but now, too late, I find that the fond
Maid who scorns the World for Love, is sure to meet for her
reward the scorn of him she Loves----Ungrateful Man! Cou’d you
not spare one Moment from that long Date of Happiness, to give
a last farewel to her you have undone? What wou’d not this
Barbarous Contempt have drawn upon you, were I of ALOVISA’S
Temper? Sure I am, all that disdain and rage, cou’d Inspire
Malice with, had been Inflicted on you, but you well know my
Soul is of a another Stamp.----Fool that I was, and little
vers’d in the base Arts of Man, believ’d I might by tenderness,
and faithful Friendship, gain esteem; tho’ Wit and Beauty the
two great Provocatives to create Love were wanting. But do not
think that I am yet so mean as to desire to hear from you; no,
I have put all future Correspondence with you out of my Power,
and hope to drive it even from my wish: Whether your disdain,
or the Holy Banner I am listed under, has wrought this Effect,
I know not, but methinks I breath another Air, think on you
with more Tranquility, and bid you without dying,_

Eternally Adieu, AMENA.

_P.S._ Let ALOVISA know I am no more her Rival, Heaven has my
Soul, and I forgive you both.

D’ELMONT was strangely fir’d at the reading these Lines, which left him no Room to doubt that his Letter had miscarried, he could not presently imagine by what means, but was resolv’d if possible, to find it out. However, he dissembled his Thoughts ’till the Gentleman had taken his leave; then calling for the Servant, whom he had entrusted with the carrying it, he took him by the Throat, and holding his drawn Sword directly to his Breast, swore that Moment should be his last, if he did not immediately confess the Truth; the poor Fellow, frighted almost to Death, trembling, and falling on his Knees, implor’d Forgiveness, and discover’d all. ALOVISA who was in the next Chamber, hearing her Husband call for that Servant, with a Tone somewhat more imperious than what he was accustom’d to, and a great Noise soon after, imagin’d some Accident had happen’d to betray her, and ran in to know the Certainty, just as the _Count_ had discharg’d the Servant, at once from his Service and his Presence. You have done well Madam (said D’ELMONT, looking on her with Eyes sparkling with Indignation) you have done well, by your impertinent Curiosity and Imprudence, to rouze me from my Dream of Happiness, and remind me, that I am that wretched Thing a Husband! ’Tis well indeed (answer’d ALOVISA, who saw now that there was no need of farther Dissimulation) that any thing can make you remember, both what you are, and what I am. You, (resum’d he, hastily interrupting her) have taken an effectual Method to prove your self a Wife!----a very Wife!----Insolent---Jealous---and Censorious!---But Madam (continued he frowning) since you are pleas’d to assert your Priveledge, be assur’d, I too shall take my turn, and will exert the---Husband! In saying this, he flung out of the Room in spite of her Endeavours to hinder him, and going hastily through a Gallery which had a large Window that looked into the Garden, he perceived MELLIORA lying on a green Bank, in a melancholy, but a charming Posture, directly opposite to the Place where he was; her Beauties appear’d, if possible, more to Advantage than ever he had seen them, or at least, he had more Opportunity thus unseen by her, to gaze upon ’em; he in a Moment lost all the Rage of Temper he had been in, and his whole Soul was taken up with softness; he stood for some Moments fix’d in silent Admiration, but Love has small Dominion in a Heart, that can content it self with a distant Prospect, and there being a Pair of back-Stairs at the farther end of the Gallery, which led to the Garden. He either forgot, or not regarded what Construction ALOVISA might make on this private Interview, if by Chance, from any of the Windows she should be Witness of it.

MELLIORA was so intent on a Book she had in her Hand, that she saw not the _Count_ ’till he was close enough to her to discern what was the Subject of her Entertainment, and finding it the Works of _Monsieur_ L’FONTENELLE; Philosophy, Madam, at your Age (said he to her with an Air, which exprest surprize) is as wond’rous as your other Excellencies; but I am confident, had this Author ever seen MELLIORA, his Sentiments had been otherwise than now they seem to be, and he would have been able to write of nothing else but Love and her. MELLIORA blush’d Extremely at his unexpected Presence, and the Complement he made Her; but recollecting her self as soon as she cou’d; I have a better Opinion of _Monsieur_ L’FONTENELLE, (answer’d she) but if I were really Mistress of as many Charms as you wou’d make me believe, I should think my self little beholding to Nature, for bestowing them on me, if by their means I were depriv’d of so choice an Improvement as this Book has given me. Thank Heaven, then Madam, (resum’d he) that you were born in an Age successive to that which has produc’d so many fine Treatises of this kind for your Entertainment; since (I am very Confident) this, and a long space of future Time will have no other Theme, but that which at present you seem so much averse to. MELLIORA found so much difficulty in endeavouring to Conceal the disorder she was in at this Discourse, that it rendered her unable to reply; and He, (who possibly guest the occasion of her silence) taking one of her Hands and tenderly pressing it between his, look’d so full in her Eyes, as heighten’d her Confusion, and discover’d to his ravish’d View, what most he wish’d to find: Ambition, Envy, Hate, Fear, or Anger, every other Passion that finds Entrance in the Soul; Art, and Discretion, may Disguise, but Love, tho’ it may be feign’d, can never be Conceal’d, not only the Eyes (those true and most Perfect Intelligencers of the Heart) but every Feature, every Faculty betrays it! It fills the whole Air of the Person possest with it; it wanders round the Mouth! Plays in the Voice! trembles in the Accent! And shows it self a thousand different, nameless ways! Even MELLIORA’S Care to hide it, made it more apparent, and the Transported D’ELMONT not considering where he was, or who might be a witness of his Rapture, cou’d not forbear catching her in his Arms, and grasping her with an Extasie, which plainly told her what his thoughts were, tho’ at that time he had not Power to put ’em into Words; and indeed there is no greater proof of a vast and elegant Passion, than the being uncapable of Expressing it:-----He had perhaps held her in this strict embrace, ’till some Accident had discover’d and separated him from her; if the Alarm this manner of Proceeding gave her Modesty, had not made her force her self from him.---They both stood in a silent Consternation, nor was he much less disorder’d at the Temerity, the violence of his ungovernable Passion had made him guilty of, than she was at the Liberty he had taken; he knew not how to Excuse, nor she, to Reproach; Respect (the constant Attendant on a sincere Affection) had tyed his Tongue, and shame mixed with the uncertainty after what manner she shou’d resent it, Hers. At last, the Natural Confidence of his Sex Encourag’d him to break this mute Entertainment,--There are Times Madam (said he) in which the wisest have not Power over their own Actions---If therefore I have offended, impute not the Crime to me, but that unavoidable impulse which for a Moment hurry’d me from my self; for be assured while D’ELMONT can Command his Thoughts, they shall be most obedient to your Wishes----As MELLIORA was about to reply, she saw a Servant coming hastily to speak to the COUNT, and was not a little glad of so favourable an opportunity to retire without being oblig’d to continue a Discourse in which she must either lay a severe Punishment on her Inclinations by making a quarrel with him, or by forgiving him too easily, Trespass against the strict Precepts of Virtue she had always profess’d: She made what haste she cou’d into her chamber, and carry’d with her a World of troubled Meditations, she now no longer doubted of the COUNT’S Passion, and trembled with the Apprehension of what he might in time be prompted to; but when she Reflected how dear that Person she had so much cause to fear, was to her, she thought her self, at once the most unfortunate and most Guilty of her Sex.

The Servant who gave ’em this seasonable Interruption delivered a Letter to his Master, which he opening hastily, knowing that it came from his Brother by the Seal, found the Contents as follows.

_I hop’d (my Dearest Friend, and Brother) by this day to have
Embrac’d you, but Fortune takes delight to disappoint our
wishes, when highest rais’d, and nearest to their Aim.----The