Chapter IV: Letter I: carry’d from her, whom I think it my Happiness to (1)

call Sister, joyn’d with my own Faith, Love, and Assiduity; at
length Triumph’d over all the little niceties and objections
my Charmer made against our Journey, and she Condescended to
order every thing requisite for our departure from AMIENS
shou’d be got ready.----But how shall I Express the Grief, the
Horrour, the Distraction of my Soul, when the very Evening
before the Day we shou’d have set out, as I was sitting with
her, a sudden, but terrible Illness, like the Hand of Death
seiz’d on her, she fell (oh! my Brother) Cold, and Speechless
in my Arms------Guess, what I endur’d at that Afflicting
Moment, all that I had of Man, or Reason left me; and sure
had not the Care of the Baroness and some other Ladies (whom
my Cries drew in to her Assistance) in a little time recover’d
her, I had not now surviv’d to give you this Account: Again,
I saw the Beauties of her Eyes! again, I heard her Voice, but
her Disorder was yet so great, that it was thought convenient
she should be put to Bed; the Baroness seeing my Despair,
desired me not to quit her House, and by that Means I had
News every Hour, how her Fevor encreas’d, or abated, for the
Physicians being desir’d to deal freely, assur’d us, that was
her Distemper: For several Days she continued in a Condition
that could give us no Hopes of her Recovery; in which Time,
as you may imagine, I was little capable of Writing.-----The
wildness of my unruly Grief, made me not be permitted to come
into her Chamber; but they cou’d not, without they had made
use of Force, hinder me from lying at her Door: I counted all
her Groans, heard every Sigh the Violence of her Pain drew
from her, and watch’d the Countenance of every Person who came
out of her Chamber, as Men who wou’d form a Judgment of future
Consequences, do the Signs in Heaven.----But I trouble you with
this tedious recital, she is now, if there is any Dependance
on the Doctors Skill, past Danger, tho’ not fit to Travel,
at least this Month, which gives no small Aleviation to the
greatness of my Joys (which otherwise wou’d be unbounded) for
her Recovery, since it occasions so long a Separation from the
best of Brothers, and of Friends: Farewell, may all your Wishes
meet Success, and an Eternal round of Happiness attend you; to
add to mine, I beg you’ll write by the first Post, which, next
to seeing you, is the greatest I can Taste. I am, my Lord, with
all imaginable Tenderness and Respect, your most Affectionate
Brother and Humble Servant,_

BRILLIAN.

The _Count_ judg’d it proper that ALOVISA shou’d see this Letter, because it so much concern’d her Sister, and was ordering the Servant to carry it to her, (not being himself willing to speak to her) just as she was coming towards him: She had receiv’d a Letter from the _Baroness_ DE BERONVILL, at the same time that the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S was brought, and was glad to take the Opportunity of Communicating the Contents of it, in hopes by this Conversation, to be reconcil’d to her Husband: But the gloomy Sullenness of the Humour he had left her with, return’d at Sight of her, and after some little Discourse of Family Affairs, which he could not avoid answering, walk’d carelesly away: She follow’d him at a distance, ’till he was got up to the Gallery, and perceiving he went toward his Closet, mended her Pace, and was close to him when he was going in. My Lord, (said she) with a Voice but half assured, and which would not have given her leave to utter more, if he had not interrupted her, by telling her he would be alone, and shutting the Door hastily upon her, but she prevented his Locking of it, by pushing against it with all her Force, and he, not exerting his, for fear of hurting her, suffer’d her Entrance: But look’d on her with a Countenance so forbidding, as in spite of the natural Haughtiness of her Temper, and the Resolution she had made to speak to him, render’d her unable for some Moments to bring forth a Word; but the silent Grief, which appear’d in her Face, pleaded more with the good Nature of the _Count_, than any thing she could have said: He began to pity the unhappiness of her too violent Affection, and to wish himself in a Capacity of returning it, however, he (like other Husbands) thought it best to keep up his Resentments, and take this Opportunity of Quelling all the _Woman_ in her Soul, and humbling all the little Remains of Pride that Love had left her. Madam, (resum’d he) with an Accent, which tho’ something more softned, was still imperious enough, if you have any Thing of Consequence to impart to me, I desire you will be as brief as you can, for I would be left to the Freedom of my Thoughts---ALOVISA cou’d not yet answer, but letting fall a Shower of Tears, and throwing her self on the Ground, Embrac’d his Knees with so Passionate a Tenderness, as sufficiently exprest her Repentance for having been guilty of any thing to disoblige him: D’ELMONT was most sensibly touch’d at this Behaviour, so vastly different from what he cou’d have expected from the greatness of her Spirit, and raising her with an obliging Air. I am sorry (said he) that any thing should happen to occasion this Submission, but since what’s past, is out of either of our Powers to recall: I shall endeavour to think of it no more, provided you’ll promise me, never for the future to be guilty of any thing which may give me an uneasiness by the sight of yours----’Tis impossible to represent the Transport of ALOVISA at this kind Expression, she hung upon his Neck, kissed the dear Mouth which had pronounc’d her Pardon, with Raptures of unspeakable Delight, she sigh’d with Pleasure, as before she had done with Pain, she wept, she even dy’d with Joy!----No, no, my Lord, my Life, my Angel, (cry’d she, as soon as she had Power to speak) I never will Offend you more, no more be Jealous, no more be doubtful of my Happiness! You are!--you will be only mine, I know you will----Your kind Forgiveness of my Folly, assures me that you are mine, not more by Duty than by Love! A Tye far more valuable than that of Marriage. The _Count_ conscious of her Mistake, had much ado to conceal his Disorder at these Words, and being unwilling she should proceed; as soon as he could (without seeming unkind or rude) disingag’d himself from her Arms, and took a Pen in his Hand, which he told her he was about to employ in answering the _Chevalier_ BRILLIAN’S Letter; ALOVISA who now resolv’d an entire Obedience to his Will, and remembring he had desired to be alone, withdrew, full of the Idea of an imagin’d Felicity----Her Heart was now at ease, she believ’d, that if her Husband had any Remains of Passion for AMENA, the impossibility of ever seeing her again, would soon extinguish them, and since she was so happily reconcil’d, was far from repenting her intercepting of his Letter: But poor Lady, she did not long enjoy this Peace of Mind, and this Interval of Tranquility serv’d but to heighten her ensuing Miseries.

The _Count’s_ secret Passion for MELLIORA grew stronger by his endeavouring to suppress it, and perceiving that she carefully avoided all Opportunities of being alone with him one Moment, since his Behaviour to her in the Garden, he grew almost Distracted with the continual Restraint he was forc’d to put on all his Words and Actions: He durst not Sigh nor send an amorous Glance, for fear of offending her, and alarming his Wive’s Jealousy, so lately lull’d to Sleep: He had no Person in whom he had Confidence enough to trust with his Misfortune, and had certainly sunk under the Pressure of it, if ALOVISA, who observing an Alteration in his Countenance and Humour, fearing he was really indispos’d (which was the excuse he made for his Melancholly) had not perswaded him to go into the Country, hoping that change of Air might do him good: He had a very fine Seat near _Anjerville_ in the Province of _Le Beausse_, which he had not been at for some Years, and he was very willing to comply with ALOVISA’S Desires of passing the remainder of the Summer in a Solitude, which was now become agreeable to him; the greatest Difficulty was, in perswading MELLIORA to accompany them thither; he guess’d by her reserv’d Behaviour, that she only waited an Opportunity to leave the Place where he was, and was not mistaken in his Conjecture: One Day as they were talking of it, she told them she was resolv’d to return to the Monastery where she had been Educated, that the World was too noisy a Place for one of her Taste, who had no relish for any of the Diversions of it: Every Word she spoke, was like a Dagger to D’ELMONT’S Heart; yet, he so artfully manag’d his Endeavours, between the Authority of a Guardian, and the Entreaties of a Friend, that she was at last overcome. ’Tis hard for the severest Virtue to deny themselves the Sight of the Person belov’d, and whatever Resolutions we make, there are but few, who like MELLIORA might not by such a Lover be prevail’d upon to break them.

As soon as their coming into the Country was spread abroad, they were visited by all the Neighbouring People of Quality, but there was none so welcome to D’ELMONT as the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY; they had before the COUNT’S going into the Army been very intimate Acquaintance, and were equally glad of this opportunity to renew a Friendship, which Time and Absence had not entirely erac’d. The _Baron_ had a Sister young, and very agreeable, but gay even to Coquetry; they liv’d together, being both single, and he brought her with him, hearing the _Count_ was Married, to visit his Lady: There were several other young Noble Men and Ladies there, at the same time, and the Conversation grew so delightfully Entertaining, that it was impossible for Persons less prepossest than the COUNT and MELLIORA, to retain their _Chagrin_; but, tho’ there were scarce any in the Company that might not have list’ned with a pleas’d Attention, to what those two admirable Persons were capable of saying, yet their secret Sorrows kept them both in silence, ’till MELANTHA, for that was the Name of the _Barons_ Sister, took upon her to divert the Company with some Verses on Love; which she took out of her Pocket-Book and read to ’em: Every Body extoll’d the softness of the Stile, and the Subject they were upon. But MELLIORA who was willing to take all opportunities of Condemning that Passion, as well to conceal it in her self as to check what ever hopes the _Count_ might have, now discovered the force of her Reason, the Delicacy of her Wit, and the Penetration of her Judgment, in a manner so sweetly surprizing to all that were Strangers to her, that they presently found, that it was not want of Noble, and truly agreeable Thoughts or Words to express ’em, that had so long depriv’d them of the Pleasure of hearing her; she urg’d the Arguments she brought against the giving way to Love, and the Danger of all softning Amusements, with such a becoming fierceness, as made every Body of the Opinion that she was born only to create Desire, not be susceptible of it her self. The _Count_ as he was most Concern’d, took the most particular Notice of all she said, and was not a little alarm’d to see her appear so much in earnest, but durst not answer, or Endeavour to confute her, because of ALOVYSA’S presence: But it was not long before he had an opportunity, a few Days after he met with one, as full as he cou’d wish. Returning one Evening from the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S, whom he had now made the Confident of his Passion, and who had Encourag’d him in it, he was told that ALOVYSA was gone out to take the Air, and hearing no mention of MELLIORA’S being with her, he stay’d not to enquire, but running directly to her Chamber, made his Eyes his best Informers: He found her lying on a Couch in a most charming Dissabillee, she had but newly come from Bathing, and her Hair unbraided, hung down upon her Shoulders with a negligence more Beautiful than all the Aids of Art cou’d form in the most exact _Decorum_ of Dress; part of it fell upon her Neck and Breast, and with it’s Lovely Shadiness, being of a Delicate dark Brown, set off to vast Advantage, the matchless whiteness of her Skin: Her Gown and the rest of her Garments were white, and all ungirt, and loosely flowing, discover’d a Thousand Beauties, which Modish Formalities conceal. A Book lay open by her, on which she had reclin’d her Head, as if been tir’d with Reading, she Blush’d at sight of the _Count_, and rose from off the Couch with a Confusion which gave new Lustre to her Charms, but he not permitting her to stir from the place she was in, sat down by Her, and casting his Eyes on the Book which lay there, found it to be _Ovid’s-Epistles_, How Madam (cry’d he, not a little pleas’d with the Discovery) dare you, who the other Day so warmly inveigh’d against Writings of this Nature, trust your self with so Dangerous an Amusement? How happens it, that you are so suddenly come over to our Party? Indeed my Lord (answer’d she, growing more disorder’d) it was Chance rather than Choice, that directed this Book to my Hands, I am yet far from approving Subjects of this Kind, and believe I shall be ever so: Not that I can perceive any Danger in it, as to my self, the Retirement I have always liv’d in, and the little Propensity I find to entertain a Thought of that uneasie Passion, has hitherto secur’d me from any Prepossession, without which, _Ovid_’s Art is Vain. Nay, Madam, reply’d the _Count_, now you Contradict your former Argument, which was, that these sort of Books were, as it were, Preparatives to Love, and by their softning Influence, melted the Soul, and made it fit for amorous Impressions, and so far, you certainly were in the right, for when once the Fancy is fixed on a real Object, there will be no need of Auxillary Forces, the Dear Idea will spread it self thro’ every Faculty of the Soul, and in a Moment inform us better, than all the Writings of the most Experienc’d Poets, cou’d do in an Age. Well, my Lord, (said she endeavouring to Compose her self) I am utterly unambitious of any Learning this way, and shall endeavour to retain in Memory, more of the Misfortunes that attended the Passion of _Sappho_, than the Tender, tho’ never so Elegant Expressions it produc’d: And if all Readers of Romances took this Method, the Votaries of _Cupid_ wou’d be fewer, and the Dominion of Reason more Extensive. You speak (Answer’d D’ELMONT) as tho’ Love and Reason were Incompatible, there is no Rule (said she) my Lord, without Exception, they are indeed sometimes united, but how often they are at Variance, where may we not find Proofs, History is full of them, and daily Examples of the many Hair-brain’d Matches, and slips, much less excusable, sufficiently evince how little Reason has to do in the Affairs of Love, I mean (continu’d she, with a very serious Air) that sort of Love, for there are two, which hurries People on to an immediate Gratification of their Desires, tho’ never so prejudicial to themselves, or the Person they pretend to Love. Pray Madam (said the _Count_ a little nettled at this Discourse) what Love is that which seems at least to Merit the Approbation of a Lady so extreamly nice? It has many Branches (reply’d she) in the first Place that which we owe to Heaven, in the next to our King, our Country, Parents, Kindred, Friends, and Lastly, that which Fancy inclines, and Reason guides us to, in a Partner for Life, but here every Circumstance must agree, Parity of Age, of Quality, of Fortune, and of Humour, Consent of Friends, and Equal Affection in each other, for if any one of these particulars fail, it renders all the rest of no Effect. Ah, Madam (cry’d the _Count_ not able to suffer her to proceed). What share of Pity then can you afford to a Man who, loves where almost all these Circumstances are wanting, and what Advice wou’d you give a wretch so Curst? I wou’d have him _think_, (said she more Gravely than before) How Madam, (resum’d he) think did you say? Alas! ’Tis Thought that has undone him, that’s very possible (answer’d she) but yet ’tis want of thinking justly, for in a Lovers Mind Illusions seem Realities, and what at an other time wou’d be look’d on as Impossible, appears easie then: They indulge, and feed their new-born Folly with a prospect of a Hope, tho’ ne’re so distant a one, and in the vain pursuit of it, fly Consideration, ’till dispair starts up in the midway, and bar’s their promis’d View; whereas if they gave way to due Reflection, the Vanity of the Attempt wou’d presently be shown, and the same cause that bid ’em cease to hope, wou’d bid ’em cease to wish: Ah Madam (said he) how little do you know of that Passion, and how easily cou’d I disprove you by the Example of my Friend; despair and Love are of an equal Age in him, and from the first Moment he beheld his Adorable Charmer, he has Languished without the least mixture of a flattering Hope. I Grant the Flames with which our Modern Gallants are ordinarily animated, cannot long subsist without Fewel, but where Love is kindled in a Generous Heart by a just Admiration of the real Merits of the Object belov’d, Reason goes Hand in Hand with it, and makes it lasting as our Life. In my Mind (answer’d MELLIORA Coldly) an Esteem so Grounded may more properly be ascribed to Friendship, then be it so Madam, (rejoyn’d the _Count_ briskly) Friendship and Love, where either are sincere, vary but little in their meaning, there may indeed be some Distinctions in their Ceremonies, but their Essentials are still the same: And if the Gentleman I speak of were so happy as to hope his Friendship wou’d be acceptable, I dare promise that he never wou’d complain his Love were not so. You have a strange way (said she) to Confound Idea’s, which in my Opinion are so vastly different, that I shou’d make no Difficulty in granting my Friendship to as many of my Acquaintance, as had Merit to deserve it; but if I were to Love in that general Manner, ’twould be a Crime wou’d justly render me Contemptible to Mankind: Madam (replyed the _Count_) when I spoke of the Congruity of Love and Friendship, I did not mean that sort, which to me, seems unworthy of the Name of either, but that Exalted one, which made _Orestes_ and _Pilades_, _Theseus_ and _Perithous_ so Famous. That, which has no Reserve, no separate Interest, or divided Thoughts, That which fills all,----gives all the Soul, and esteems even Life a Trifle, to prove it self sincere----What can Love do more than yield every thing to the object Belov’d? And Friendship must do so too, or it is not Friendship! Therefore take heed fair Angel (continu’d he, taking her Hand, and kissing it) how you Promise Friendship, where you ne’re mean to Love: And observing she was Silent, your Hand, (said he) your Lip, your Neck, your Breast, your All.----All this whole Heaven of Beauty must be no longer in your own Disposal----All is the Prize of Friendship! As much Confus’d as MELLIORA was, at these Words, which gave her sufficient Reason to fear he wou’d now declare himself more fully than she desir’d; she had Spirit and Resolution enough to withdraw her Hand from his, and with a look, that spoke her Meaning but too plainly for the repose of the Enamour’d D’ELMONT: I shall take care my Lord (said she) how I Commence a Friendship with any Person who shall make use of it to my Prejudice.

The _Count_ was now sensible of his Error in going so far, and fearing he had undone himself in her Esteem by his rash Proceeding, thought it was best at once to throw off a Disguise which, in spight of his Endeavours wou’d fall off, of itself, and by making a bold and free Confession of his real Sentiments, oblige her to a Discovery of hers.----I do not doubt your Caution, Madam, (answer’d he) in this point: Your Reserved Behaviour, even to me, convinces me, but too fully, how little you are disposed to give, or receive any Proofs of Friendship: But perhaps (continu’d he, with a deep sigh) my too presuming Eyes have rendred me a suspected Person, and while you find in me the Wretch I have discrib’d, you find nothing in me worthy of a happier Fortune; you are worthy every thing my Lord, (said MELLIORA quite beside her self at these Words) nor are you less happy than you deserve to be, and I wou’d rather that these Eyes shou’d loose their sight than view you otherwise than now I see you, blest in every Circumstance, the Darling of the World, the Idol of the Court, and Favourite of Heaven! Oh stop! (Cry’d D’ELMONT hastily Interrupting her) forbear to Curse me farther, rather Command my Death, than wish the Continuance of my present Miseries. Cruel MELLIORA too well, alas, you know what I have endur’d from the first fatal Moment I beheld you, and only feign an Ignorance to distract me more: A Thousand times you have read my Rising wishes, sparkling in my Eyes, and glowing on my Cheeks, as often seen my Virtue struggling in silent Tremblings, and Life-wasting Anguish to suppress desire. Nay, Madam (said he Catching fast hold of both her Hands, seeing her about to rise) by all my sleepless Nights, and restless Days, by all my countless burning Agonies; by all the Torments of my gall’d, bleeding Heart, I swear, that you shall hear me: I have heard too much (cry’d MELLIORA not able to contain her self) and tho’ I am unwilling to believe you have any farther aim in this Discourse than your Diversion, yet I must tell your Lordship, that there are Themes more proper for it, than the Daughter of your Friend, who was entrusted to your Care with a far different Opinion of your Behaviour to her. What have I done (resum’d the almost the Distracted _Count_, falling at her Feet, and grasping her Knees) what have I done, Inhuman MELLIORA! To deserve this Rigour? My Honour has hitherto prevail’d above desire, fierce, and raging as it is, nor had I any other hopes by making this Declaration, than to meet that pity my Misfortunes merit; and you cannot without Ingratitude deny: Pity, even to Criminals is allow’d, and sure, where the offence is unvoluntary, like mine, ’tis due: ’Tis impossible to guess the Conflict in MELLIORA’S Breast at this Instant, she had heard a most Passionate Declaration of Love from a married Man, and by Consequence, whatever his Pretences were, cou’d look on his Designs no otherwise than aim’d at the Destruction of her Honour, and was fir’d with a virtuous Indignation. But then she saw in this married Man, the only Person in the World, who was capable of Inspiring her with a tender Thought, she saw him reduc’d to the last Extremity of Despair for her sake: She heard his sighs, she felt his Tremblings as he held her, and cou’d not refrain shedding some Tears, both for him, and for her self, who indeed suffer’d little less; but the _Count_ was not so happy as to be Witness of this Testimony of her Compassion: He had reclin’d his Head on her Lap, possibly to hide those that forc’d their way thro’ his Eyes, at the same time; and ALOVISA’S Voice which they heard below, giving them both an Alarm; they had no further opportunity for Speech, and the _Count_ was but just gone out of the Room, and MELLIORA laid on the Couch in the same careless Possture which he had found her in; when ALOVISA enter’d the Chamber, and after having a little pleasantly Reproach’d her, for being so lazy as not to accompany her in the Walk she had been taking, ask’d her if she had not seen the _Count_, who she had been told was come home: Poor MELLIORA had much ado to conceal the Disorder she was in at this Question, but recovering her self as well as she could, answer’d in the Affirmative; but that he had not staid there longer than to enquire where she was gone, and that she knew not but he might be gone in search of her: This was enough to make ALOVISA take her leave, impatient for the Sight of her dear Lord, a Happiness she had not enjoy’d since Morning, but she was disappointed of her Hope. The _Count_, as late as it was in the Evening, went into his Chaise, which had not been set up since he came from the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S and drove thither again with all the Speed he could.

The _Baron_ was extreamly surpriz’d at his sudden Return, and with so much Confusion and Melancholy in his Countenance. But much more so, when he had given him an Account of what had pass’d between him and MELLIORA and cou’d not forbear rallying him excessively on the Occasion. What, said he, a Man of Wit, and Pleasure like _Count_ D’ELMONT a Man, who knows the Sex so well, could he let slip so favourable an Opportunity with the finest Woman in the World; One, for whose Enjoyment he wou’d Die.----Cou’d a Frown, or a little angry Coyness, (which ten to one was but affected) have Power to freeze such fierce Desires. The _Count_ was not at present in a Humour to relish this Merriment, he was too seriously in Love to bear that any thing relating to it, should be turn’d into Ridicule, and was far from repenting he had done no more, since what he had done, had occasion’d her Displeasure: But the _Baron_, who had Designs in his Head, which he knew cou’d not by any means be brought to succeed, but by keeping the _Count’s_ Passion warm, made Use of all the Artifice he was Master of, to embolden this respective Lover, to the Gratification of his Wishes: And growing more grave than he had been, My Lord, said he, you do not only injure the Dignity of our Sex in general, but your own Merits in particular, and perhaps even MELLIORA’S secret Inclinations, by this unavailing distant Carriage: and causeless Despair.----Have you not confess’d that she has look’d on you with a Tenderness, like that of Love, that she has blush’d at your Sight, and trembled at your Touch?----What would you more that she should do, or what indeed, can she do more, in Modesty, to prove her Heart is yours? A little Resolution on your side would make her all yours----Women are taught by Custom to deny what most they covet, and to seem Angry, when they are best Pleas’d; believe me, D’ELMONT, that the most rigid Virtue of ’em all, never yet hated a Man for those Faults, which Love occasions: All this answer’d the _Count_, is what I readily agree to:---But O her Father’s Memory! My Obligation to him! Her Youth and Innocence are Daggers to my cool Reflections---Wou’d it not be Pity (_D’espernay!_ continued he with a deep Sigh) even if she shou’d consent, to ruin so much Sweetness? The _Baron_ could not forbear laughing at these Words, and the _Count_ who had started these Objections, only with the Hope of having them remov’d, easily suffer’d himself to be perswaded to follow his Inclinations; and it was soon concluded betwixt them, that on the first Opportunity, MELLIORA should fall a Sacrifice to Love.

The _Count_ came not Home ’till the next Morning, and brought the _Baron_ with him, for they were now become inseparable Friends: At his return, he found ALOVISA in a very ill Humour for his being abroad all Night, and in spite of the Resolution she had made of shewing a perfect Resignation to her Husband’s Will, could not forbear giving him some Hints, how unkindly she took it, which he but little regarded, all his Thoughts were now bent on the gaining MELLIORA. But that Lady alarm’d at his late Behaviour, and with Reason, doubting her own Power of resenting it as she ought, or indeed resisting any future Attempts he might make, feign’d the necessity of performing some private Rules of Devotion, enjoyn’d her as a Pennance, and kept her Chamber that she might not see him.

The Disquietudes of D’ELMONT for being forc’d to live, but for three or four Days without the happiness of beholding her, convinc’d him how impossible it was for him to overcome his Passion, tho’ he should never so vigorously endeavour it, and that whatever Method he shou’d make use of to satisfy it, might be excus’d by the Necessity.

What is it that a Lover cannot accomplish when Resolution is on his Side? D’ELMONT after having formed a Thousand fruitless Inventions, at last pitch’d on One, which promis’d him an assurance of Success: In MELLIORA’S Chamber there was a little Door that open’d to a Pair of Back Stairs, for the Convenience of the Servants coming to clean the Room, and at the Bottom of that Descent, a Gate into the Garden. The _Count_ set his Wits to work, to get the Keys of those two Doors; that of the Garden stood always in it, nor cou’d he keep it without its being miss’d at Night, when they shou’d come to fasten the Gate, therefore he carefully took the Impression in Wax, and had one made exactly like it: The other he cou’d by no means compass without making some excuse to go to MELLIORA’S Chamber, and she had desired that none might visit her: But he overcome this Bar to his Design at last; there was a Cabinet in it, where he told ALOVISA he had put some Papers of great Concern, which now he wanted to look over, and desired she would make an Apology for his coming in, to fetch them. MELLIORA imagin’d this was only a Pretence to see her, but his Wife being with him, and he saying nothing to her, or taking any further notice than what common Civility required, was not much troubled at it. While ALOVISA was paying a Complement to the Recluse, he was dext’rous enough to slip the Key out of the Door, unperceiv’d by either of them.

As soon as he had got the Passport to his expected Joys in his Possession, he order’d a couple of Saddle Horses to be made ready, and only attended by one Servant, rid out, as if to take the Air; but when they were got about two or three Miles from his House, Commanded him to return and tell his Lady, that he should lye that Night at the _Baron_ D’ESPERNAY’S, the Fellow obey’d, and clapping Spurs to his Horse, was immediately lost in a Cloud of Dust.

D’ELMONT had sent this Message to prevent any of the Family sitting up expecting him, and instead of going to the _Barons_, turn’d short, and went to _Angerville_, where meeting with some Gentlemen of his Acquaintance, he pass’d the Hours ’till between Twelve and One, as pleasantly as his Impatience to be with MELLIORA would give him leave: He had not much above a Furlong to ride, and his Desires made him not spare his Horse, which he ty’d by the Bridle, hot and foaming as he was, to a huge Oak, which grew pretty near his Garden; it was incompass’d only with a Hedge, and that so low, that he got over it without any Difficulty; he look’d carefully about him, and found no Tell-tale Lights in any of the Rooms, and concluding all was as hush’d as he cou’d wish, open’d the first Door, but the encreasing Transports of his Soul, as he came up Stairs, to be so near the end of all his Wishes, are more easily imagin’d than express’d; but as violent as they were, they presently receiv’d a vast Addition, when he came into the happy Chamber, and by a most delightfull Gloom, a Friend to Lovers, (for it was neither Dark nor Light), he beheld the lovely MELLIORA in her Bed, and fast asleep, her Head was reclin’d on one of her Arms; a Pillow softer and whiter far than that it lean’d on, the other was stretch’d out, and with its extension had thrust down the Bed-cloths so far, that all the Beauties of her Neck and Breast appear’d to View. He took an inexpressible Pleasure in gazing on her as she lay, and in this silent Contemplation of her thousand Charms, his Mind was agitated with various Emotions, and the resistless Posture he beheld her in, rouz’d all that was honourable in him, he thought it Pity even to wake her, but more to wrong such Innocence; and he was sometimes prompted to return and leave her as he found her.

But whatever Dominion, Honour and Virtue may have over our waking Thoughts, ’tis certain that they fly from the clos’d Eyes, our Passions then exert their forceful Power, and that which is most Predominant in the Soul, agitates the Fancy, and brings even Things impossible to pass: Desire, with watchful Diligence repell’d, returns with greater Violence in unguarded Sleep, and overthrows the vain Efforts of Day. MELLIORA in spite of her self, was often happy in Idea, and possess’d a Blessing which Shame and Guilt deter’d her from in reality. Imagination at this Time was active, and brought the charming Count much nearer than indeed he was, and he, stooping to the Bed, and gently laying his Face close to hers, (possibly designing no more than to steal a Kiss from her, unperceiv’d) that Action concurring at that Instant with her Dream, made her throw her Arm (still slumbering) about his Neck, and in a soft and languishing Voice, cry out, O! D’ELMONT, cease, cease to Charm, to such a height----Life cannot bear these Raptures!---And then again Embracing him yet closer,---O! too, too lovely _Count_---Extatick Ruiner!

Where was now the Resolution he was forming some Moments before? If he had now left her, some might have applauded an Honour so uncommon, but more wou’d have condemn’d his Stupidity, for I believe there are very few Men, how Stoical soever they pretend to be, that in such a tempting Circumstance would not have lost all Thoughts, but those, which the present Opportunity inspir’d. That he did, is most certain, for he tore open his Wastecoat, and joyn’d his panting Breast to hers, with such a tumultuous Eagerness! Seiz’d her with such a rapidity of transported Hope-crown’d Passion, as immediately wak’d her from an imaginary Felicity, to the Approaches of a solid one. Where have I been (said she, just opening her Eyes) where am I?---(And then coming more perfectly to her self) Heaven! What’s this?--I am D’ELMONT (cry’d the o’erjoy’d _Count_) the happy D’ELMONT! MELLIORA’S, the charming MELLIORA’S D’ELMONT! Oh, all ye Saints, (resum’d the surpriz’d, trembling Fair) ye ministring Angels! Whose Business it is to guard the Innocent! Protect and shield my Virtue! O! say, how came you here, my Lord? Love, said he, Love that does all, that Wonder-working Power has sent me here, to charm thee, sweet Resister, into yielding. O! hold, (cry’d she, finding he was proceeding to Liberties, which her Modesty could not allow of) forbear, I do conjure you, even by that Love you plead, before my Honour I’ll resign my Life! Therefore, unless you wish to see me dead, a Victim to your cruel, fatal Passion, I beg you to desist, and leave me:---I cannot---must not (answer’d he, growing still more bold) what, when I have thee thus! Thus naked in my Arms, trembling, defenceless, yielding, panting with equal Wishes, thy Love confess’d, and every Thought, Desire! What could’st thou think if I should leave thee? How justly would’st thou scorn my easy Tameness; my Dulness, unworthy the Name of Lover, or even of Man!--Come, come, no more Reluctance (continued he, gathering Kisses from her soft Snowy Breast at every Word) Damp not the Fires thou hast rais’d with seeming Coyness! I know thou art mine! All mine! And thus I--yet think (said she, interrupting him, and struggling in his Arms) think what ’tis that you wou’d do; nor, for a Moment’s Joy, hazard your Peace for ever. By Heaven, cry’d he, I will this Night be Master of my Wishes, no matter what to Morrow may bring forth: As soon as he had spoke these Words, he put it out of her Power either to deny or reproach him, by stopping her Mouth with Kisses, and was just on the Point of making good what he had vow’d, when a loud knocking at the Chamber Door, put a stop to his beginning Extacy, and chang’d the sweet Confusion MELLIORA had been in, to all the Horrors, of a Shame and Guilt-distracted Apprehension: They made no Doubt but that it was ALOVISA, and that they were betray’d; the _Count’s_ greatest Concern was for MELLIORA, and the Knocking still continuing louder, all he cou’d do in this Exigence, was to make his Escape the Way he came: There was no time for taking leave, and he could only say, perceiving she was ready to faint with her Fears-----Be comforted my Angel, and resolute in your Denials, to whatever Questions the natural Insolence of a Jealous Wife may provoke mine to ask you; and we shall meet again (if D’ELMONT survives this Disappointment) without Danger, of so quick, so curst a Separation. MELLIORA was in too much Distraction to make any Answer to what he said, and he had left the Room some Moments, before she cou’d get Spirit enough to ask who was at the Door? But when she did, was as much surpriz’d to find it was MELANTHA, who desir’d to be let in, as before she was frighted at the Belief it was ALOVISA, however, she immediately slipt on her Night-Gown and Slippers, and open’d the Door.

You are a sound Sleeper indeed (Cry’d MELANTHA laughing) that all the Noise I have made cou’d not wake you. I have not been all this time asleep (answer’d MELLIORA) but not knowing you were in the House, cou’d not imagine who it was that gave me this Disturbance. I heartily ask your Pardon (said MELANTHA) and I know, my Dear, you are too good Natur’d to refuse it me, especially when you know the Occasion, which is so very Whimsical, that as grave as you are, you cannot help being diverted with it----But come (continu’d she) get on your Cloaths, for you must go along with me. Where, said MELLIORA, Nay, nay, ask no Questions (resum’d MELANTHA) but make haste, every Minute that we Idle away here, loses us the Diversion of an Age. As she spoke these Words, she fell into such an excessive Laughter, that MELLIORA thought her Mad, but being far from Sympathizing in her Gaiety; it has always (said she) been hitherto my Custom to have some Reason for what I do, tho’ in never so trifling an Affair, and you must excuse me, if I do not break it now. Pish (cry’d MELANTHA) you are of the oddest Temper,----but I will give you your Way for once,-----provided you’ll get your self ready in the mean time. I shall certainly put on my Cloaths (said MELLIORA) lest I should take cold, for I expect you’ll not permit me to sleep any more this Night. You may be sure of it (rejoyn’d MELANTHA.) But to the Purpose,-----You must know, having an Hour or two on my hands, I came this Evening to visit ALOVYSA, and found her in the strangest Humour!----Good God! What unaccountable Creatures these married Women are?----her Husband it seems had sent her Word that he wou’d lye at my Brothers, and the poor loving Soul cou’d not bear to live a Night without him. I stay’d to condole with her, (tho’ on my Life, I cou’d scarce forbear Laughing in her Face) ’till it was too late to go Home.----About twelve a Clock she yawn’d, stretch’d, and grew most horridly out of Temper; rail’d at Mankind prodigiously, and curs’d Matrimony as heartily as one of Fourscore cou’d do, that had been twice a Widow, and was left a Maid!----With much ado, I made her Women thrust her into Bed, and retired to a Chamber which they shew’d me, but I had no Inclination to sleep, I remember’d my self of five or six _Billet-Doux_ I had to answer,----a Lover, that growing foolishly troublesome, I have some thoughts of discharging to Morrow----Another that I design to Countenance, to pique a third----a new Suit of Cloaths, and Trimmings for the next Ball----Half a hundred new Songs---and---a thousand other Affairs of the utmost Consequence to a young Lady, came into my Head in a Moment; and the Night being extreamly pleasant, I set the Candle in the Chimney, open’d the Window, and fell to considering---But I had not been able to come to a conclusion what I should do in any one thing I was thinking of, before I was interrupted in my Cogitations, with a noise of something rushing hastily thro’ the Myrtles under my Window, and presently after, saw it was a Man going hastily along toward the great Alley of the Garden.----At first I was going to cry out and Alarm the Family, taking it for a Thief; But, Dear MELLIORA, how glad am I that I did not?----For who do you think, when I look’d more heedfully, I perceiv’d it was? Nay, how should I know? (cry’d MELLIORA peevishly, fearing the _Count’s_ Inadvertency had expos’d himself and her to this foolish Woman’s Curiosity) It was _Count_ D’ELMONT (resum’d MELANTHA) I’ll lay my Life, that he has been on some Intreague to Night: And met with a Disappointment in it, by his quick Return.---But prithee make hast, for I long to rally him about it. What wou’d you do Madam? (said MELLIORA) you wou’d not sure go to him? Yes, (answer’d MELANTHA): I will go down into the Garden, and so shall you.---I know you have a back Way from your Chamber---Therefore lay aside this unbecoming Demureness, and let us go, and talk him to Death. You may do as you please, (said MELLIORA) but for my part, I am for no such Frolicks. Was ever any thing so young, so Formal as you are! (Rejoyn’d MELANTHA) but I am resolv’d to Teaze you out of a humour so directly opposite to the _Beau-Monde_, and, if you will not Consent to go down with me: I will fetch him up to your Chamber----Hold! Hold, (cry’d MELLIORA perceiving she was going) what do you mean, for Heavens sake stay, what will ALOVYSA think?---I care not, reply’d the other; I have set my Heart on an hours Diversion with him and will not be baulk’d, if the repose of the World, much less, that of a Jealous, silly Wife, depended on it.

MELLIORA saw into the Temper of this Capricious young Lady too well not to believe she wou’d do, as she had said, and perhaps, was not over willing to venture her with the _Count_ alone, at that Time of Night, and in the Humour she knew he was, therefore putting on an Air more chearful than that she was Accustom’d to wear, well (said she) I will Accompany you into the Garden, since it will so much oblige you; but if the _Count_ be wise, he will, by quitting the Place, as soon as he sees us, disappoint you worse than I shou’d have done, if I had kept you here. With these Words she took her by the Hand, and they went down the Stairs, where the _Count_ was but just past before them.

He had not Power to go away, without knowing who it was, that had given him that Interruption, and had stood all this Time, on the upper Step behind the inner Door. His Vexation, and Disdain when he heard it was MELANTHA gave him as much Pain, as his Concern while he believ’d it ALOVYSA, and he cou’d not forbear muttering a thousand Curses on her Impertinence. He always despis’d, but now abhor’d her: She had behav’d her self to him in a Fashion, as made him sufficiently Sensible she was desirous of engaging him, and he resolv’d to Mortifie by the bitterest Slights, both her Pride, and Love, if ’tis proper, to call that sort of liking which Agitates the Soul of _Coquet_, by that Name.

The Ladies walk’d in the Garden for some time, and MELANTHA search’d every Bush, before she found the _Count_ who stood Conceal’d in the Porch, which being cover’d with _Jessamin_, and _Fillaree_, was Dark enough to hide him from their View, tho’ they had pass’d close to him as they came out. He had certainly remain’d there ’till Morning, and disappointed MELANTHA’S search in part of the Revenge he ow’d her, if his Desires to be with MELLIORA, on any Terms, had not prevail’d, even above his Anger to the other. But he cou’d not see that Charmer of his Soul, and imagine there might be yet an opportunity that Night of stealing a Kiss from her (now he believ’d resistless Lips) of Touching her Hand! Her Breast! And repeating some farther Freedoms which his late Advantage over her had given him, without being fill’d with Wishes too Fiery and too Impatient to be restrain’d. He watch’d their turning, and when he saw that they were near an Ally which had another that led to it, he went round and met them.

MELANTHA was overjoy’d at sight of him, and MELLIORA, tho’ equally pleas’d, was Cover’d with such a Confusion, at the Remembrance of what had pass’d, that it was happy for her that her Companion’s Volubility gave her no room for Speech. There is nothing more certain, than that Love, tho’ it fills the mind with a thousand charming Ideas, which those untouch’d by that Passion, are not capable of conceiving, yet it entirely takes away the Power of Utterance, and the deeper Impression it had made on the Soul, the less we are able to express it, when willing to indulge and give a loose to Thought; what Language can furnish us with Words sufficient, all are too poor, all wanting both in Sublimity, and Softness, and only Fancy! A lovers Fancy! can reach the Exalted soaring of a Lovers Meaning! But, if so impossible to be Describ’d, if of so Vast, so Wonderful a Nature as nothing but it’s self can Comprehend, how much more impossible must it be, entirely to conceal it! What Strength of boasted Reasons? What Force of Resolution? What modest Fears, or cunning Artifice can correct the Fierceness of its fiery Flashes in the Eyes, keep down the struggling Sighs, command the Pulse, and bid trembling cease? Honour and Virtue may distance Bodies, but there is no Power in either of those Names, to stop the Spring, that with a rapid Whirl transports us from our selves, and darts our Souls into the Bosom of the darling Object. This may seem strange to many, even of those who call, and perhaps believe that they are Lovers, but the few who have Delicacy enough to feel what I but imperfectly attempt to speak, will acknowledge it for Truth, and pity the Distress of MELLIORA.

As they were passing thro’ a Walk of Trees on each Side, whose intermingling Boughs made a friendly Darkness, and every thing Undistinguishable, the Amorous D’ELMONT throwing his eager Arms round the Waist of his (no less transported) MELLIORA, and Printing burning Kisses on her Neck, reap’d painful Pleasure, and created in her a racking kind of Extasie, which might perhaps, had they been now alone, prov’d her Desires were little different from his.

After MELANTHA had vented part of the Raillery, she was so big with, on the _Count_, which he but little regarded, being wholly taken up with other Thoughts, she propos’d, going into the Wilderness, which was at the farther end of the Garden, and they readily agreeing to it. Come, my Lord, (said she) to the _Count_, you are Melancholly, I have thought of a way which will either indulge the Humour you are in, or divert it, as you shall chuse: There are several little Paths in this Wilderness, let us take each a separate one, and when we meet, which shall be here, where we part, agree to tell an entertaining Story, which, whoever fails in, shall be doom’d to the Punishment of being left here all Night: The _Count_ at these Words, forgot all his Animosity, and was ready to hug her for this Proposal. MELLIORA did a little oppose it; but the others were too Powerful, and she was forc’d to submit: Thou art the dullest Creature, I’ll lay my Life, (my Lord, cry’d MELANTHA, taking hold of the Count in a gay manner) that it falls to her Lot to stay in the Wilderness. Oh Madam, (reply’d the _Count_) you are too severe, we ought always to suspend our Judgment ’till after the Tryal, which I confess my self so pleas’d with, that I am Impatient for its coming on: Well then, (said she, laughing) farewel for half an Hour. Agreed (cry’d the _Count_) and walk’d away: MELANTHA saw which way he went, and took another Path, leaving MELLIORA to go forward in that, in which they were, but I believe the Reader will easily imagine that she was not long to enjoy the Priviledge of her Meditations.