Chapter XIX: Part III (5)

’.he Prince heard her with all the patience he could for some time, but when he found her touch him so tenderly, and name his friends as if he had owned any such ill counsellors, his colour came in his face, and he could not forbear defending us with all the force of friendship. He told her, he knew of no such seducers, no villains of the party, nor of any traitorous design, that either himself, or any man in _France_, had ever harboured: at which, she going to upbraid him in a manner too passionate, he thought it decent to end his visit, and left her very abruptly. At his going out, he met with the Duke of ---- brother to the Duchess, going to visit her: _en passant_, a very indifferent ceremony passed on both sides, for this Duke never had entertained a friendship, or scarce a respect for _Cesario_; but going into his sister’s the Duchess, her chamber, he found her all in a rage at the Prince’s so public defence of the _Huguenots_ and their allies; and the Duke entering, they told him what had passed. This was a very great pleasure to him, who had a mortal hate at this time to the Prince. He made his visit very short, hastens to Court, and went directly to the King, and told him how infinitely he found His Majesty mistaken in the imagined penitence of the Prince; and then told him what he had said at the Duchess of ---- lodgings, and had disowned, he ever confessed any treasonable design against His Majesty, and gave them the lie, who durst charge him with any such villainy. The King, who was unwilling to credit what he wished not true, plainly told the Duke he could not believe it, but that it was the malice of his enemies, who had forged this: the Duke replied, he would bring those to His Majesty that heard the words: immediately thereupon dispatched away his page to beg the Duchess would come to Court, with _Mademoiselle Mariana_. The Duchess suspecting the truth of the business, and unwilling to do the Prince an ill office, excused herself by sending word she was ill of the colic. But _Mariana_, who loved the King’s interest, and found the ingratitude, as she called it, of the Prince, hastened in her chair to Court, and justified all the Duke had said; who being a woman of great wit and honour, found that credit which the Duke failed of, as an open enemy to the Prince. About an hour after, the Prince appeared at Court, and found the face of things changed extremely; and those, who before had kissed his hand, and were proud of every smile from him, now beheld him with coldness, and scarce made way as he passed. However, he went to the Presence, and found the King, whose looks were also very much changed; who taking him into the bed-chamber, shewed him his whole confession, drawn up ready for him to sign, as he had promised, though he never intended any such thing; and now resolved to die rather than do it, he took it in his hand, while the King cried--“Here keep your word, and sign your narrative--” “Stay, sir,” replied the Prince, “I have the counsel of my friends to ask in so weighty an affair.” The King, confirmed in all he had heard, no longer doubted but he had been too cunning for him; and going out in a very great discontent, he only cried--“Sir, if you have any better friends than myself, I leave you to them;----” and with this left him. The Prince was very glad he had got the confession-paper, hoping it would never come to light again; the King was the only person to whom he had made the confession, and he was but one accuser; and him he thought the party could at any time be too powerful to oppose, all being easily believed on their side, and nothing on that of the Court. After this, in the evening, the King going to visit Madam the Duchess of----for whom he had a very great esteem, and whither every day the whole Court followed him; the Prince, with all the assurance imaginable, made his Court there also; but he was no sooner come into the Presence, but he perceived anger in the eyes of that monarch, who had indeed a peculiar greatness and fierceness there, when angry: a minute after, he sent Monsieur----to the Prince, with a command to leave the Court; and without much ceremony he accordingly departed, and went directly to _Hermione_, who with all the impatience of love expected him; nor was much surprised to find him banished the Court: for he made her acquainted with his most secret designs; who having made all his interests her own, espoused whatever related to him, and was capable of retaining all with great fidelity: nor had he quitted her one night, since his coming to Court; and he hath often with rapture told me, _Hermione_ was a friend, as well as a mistress, and one with whom, when the first play was ended, he could discourse with of useful things of State as well as love; and improve in both the noble mysteries by her charming conversation. The night of this second disgrace I went to _Hermione_’. to visit him, where we discoursed what was next to be done. He did not think his pardon was sufficient to secure him, and he was not willing to trust a King who might be convinced, that that tenderness he had for him, was absolutely against the peace and quiet of all _France_. I was of this opinion, so that upon farther debate, we thought it absolutely necessary to quit _France_, till the Court’s heat should be a little abated; and that the King might imagine himself by his absence, in more tranquillity than he really is. In order to this, he made me take my flight into _Flanders_, here to provide all things necessary against his coming, and I received his command to seek you out, and beg you would attend his coming hither. I expect him every day. He told me at parting, he longed to consult with you, how next to play this mighty game, on which so many kingdoms are staked, and which he is resolved to win, or be nothing.’ ‘An imperfect relation,’ replied _Philander_, ‘we had of this affair, but I never could learn by what artifice the Prince brought about his good fortune at Court; but of your own escape I have heard nothing, pray oblige me with the relation of it.’ ‘Sir,’ said _Tomaso_, ‘there is so little worthy the trouble you will take in hearing it, that you may spare yourself the curiosity.’ ‘Sir,’ replied Philander, ‘I always had too great a share in what concerned you, not to be curious of the story.’ ‘In which,’ replied _Tomaso_, ‘though there be nothing novel, I will satisfy you.’

’.e pleased to know, my lord, that about a week before our design was fully discovered by some of our own under-rogues, I had taken a great house in _Faubourg St Germain_, for my mistress, whom you know, my lord, I had lived with the space of a year. She was gone to drink the waters of _Bourbon_, for some indisposition, and I had promised her all things should be fitted against her return, agreeable to her humour and desire; and indeed, I spared no cost to make her apartment magnificent: and I believe few women of quality could purchase one so rich; for I loved the young woman, who had beauty and discretion enough to charm, though the _Parisians_ of the royal party called her _Nicky Nacky_, which was given her in derision to me, not to her, for whom every body, for her own sake, had a considerable esteem. Besides, my lord, I had taken up money out of the Orphans’ and Widows’ Bank, from the Chamber of _Paris_, and could very well afford to be lavish, when I spent upon the public stock. While I was thus ordering all things, my valet came running out of breath, to tell me, that being at the _Louvre_, he saw several persons carried to the secretary’s office, with messengers; and that inquiring who they might be, he found they were two _Parisians_, who had offered themselves to the messengers to be carried to be examined about a plot, the Prince _Cesario_ and those of the Reformed Religion, had to surprise His Majesty, kill Monsieur his brother, and set all _Paris_ in a flame: and as to what particularly related to myself, he said, that I was named as the person designed to seize upon the King’s guards, and dispatch Monsieur. This my own conscience told me was too true, for me to make any doubt but I was discovered: I therefore left a servant in the house, and in a hackney-coach took my flight. I drove a little out of _Paris_ till night, and then returned again, as the surest part of the world where I could conceal myself: I was not long in studying who I should trust with my life and safety, but went directly to the palace of Madam, the Countess of----who you know, my lord, was a widow, and a woman who had, for a year past, a most violent passion for me; but she being a lady, who had made many such gallantries, and past her youth, I had only a very great respect and acknowledgement for her, and her quality, and being obliged to her, for the effects of her tenderness, shewn upon several occasions, I could not but acquit myself like a _cavalier_ to her, whenever I could possibly; and which, though I have a thousand times feigned great business to prevent, yet I could not always be ungrateful; and when I paid her my services, it was ever extremely well received, and because of her quality, and setting up for a second marriage, she always took care to make my approaches to her, in as concealed a manner as possible; and only her porter, one page, and one woman, knew this secret amour; and for the better carrying it on, I ever went in a hackney-coach, lest my livery should be seen at her gate: and as it was my custom at other times, so I now sent the porter, (who, by my bounty, and his lady’s, was entirely my own creature) for the page to come to me, who immediately did, and I desired him to let his lady know, I waited her commands; that was the word: he immediately brought me answer, that by good fortune his lady was all alone, and infinitely wishing she knew where to send him for me: and I immediately, at that good news, ran up to her chamber; where I was no sooner come, but desiring me to sit, she ordered her porter to be called, and gave orders, upon pain of life, not to tell of my being in the house, whatever inquiry should be made after me; and having given the same command to her page, she dismissed them, and came to me with all the fear and trembling imaginable. “Ah Monsieur,” cried she, falling on my neck, “we are undone--” I, not imagining she had heard the news already, cried, “Why, is my passion discovered?” “Ah,” replied she in tears, “I would to heaven it were no worse! would all the earth had discovered that, which I should esteem my glory--But it is, my charming monsieur,” continued she, “your treasons and not amour, whose discovery will be so fatal to me.” At this I seemed amazed, and begged her, to let me understand her: she told me what I have said before; and moreover, that the Council had that very evening issued out warrants for me, and she admired how I escaped. After a little discourse of this kind, I asked her, what she would advise me to do? for I was very well assured, the violent hate the King had particularly for me, would make him never consent I should live on any terms: and therefore it was determined I should not surrender myself; and she resolved to run the risk of concealing me; which, in fine, she did three days, furnishing me with money and necessaries for my flight. In this time a proclamation came forth, and offered five hundred crowns for my head, or to seize me alive, or dead. This sum so wrought with the slavish minds of men, that no art was left unassayed to take me: they searched all houses, all hackney-coaches that passed by night; and did all that avarice could inspire to take me, but all in vain: at last, this glorious sum so dazzled the mind of Madam the Countess’s porter, that he went to a captain of the Musketeers, and assured him, if the King would give him the aforesaid sum, he would betray me, and bring him the following night to surprise me, without any resistance: the captain, who thought, if the porter should have all the sum, he should get none; and every one hoping to be the happy man, that should take me, and win the prize, could not endure another should have the glory of both, and so never told the King of the offer the porter had made. But however secret, one may imagine an amour to be kept, yet in so busy a place as _Paris_ and the apartments of the Court-coquets, this of ours had been discoursed, and the intrigue more than suspected: whether this, or the captain, before named, imagined to find me at the house of the Countess, because the porter had made such an offer; I say, however it was, the next morning, upon a _Sunday_, the guards broke into several chambers, and missing me, had the insolence to come to the door of that of the Countess; and she had only time to slip on her night-gown, and running to the door besought them to have respect to her sex and quality, while I started from my bed, which was the same from whence the Countess rose; and not knowing where to hide, or what to do, concealing my clothes between the sheets, I mounted from the table to a great silver sconce that was fastened to the wall by the bed-side, and from thence made but one spring up to the tester of the bed; which being one of those raised with strong wood-work and japan, I could easily do; or, rather it was by miracle I did it; and laid myself along the top, while my back touched the ceiling of the chamber; by this time, when no entreaties could prevail, they had burst open the chamber-door, and running directly to the bed, they could not believe their eyes: they saw no person there, but the plain print of two, with the pillows for two persons. This gave them the curiosity to search farther, which they did, with their swords, under the bed, in every corner, behind every curtain, up the chimney, felt all about the wainscot and hangings for false doors or closets; surveyed the floor for a trap-door: at last they found my fringed gloves at the window, and the sash a little up, and then they concluded I had made my escape out at that window: this thought they seemed confirmed in, and therefore ran to the garden, where they thought I had descended, and with my gloves, which they bore away as the trophies of their almost gained victory, they searched every hedge and bush, arbour, grotto, and tree; but not being able to find what they sought, they concluded me gone, and told all the town, how very near they were to seizing me. After this, the very porter and page believed me escaped out of that window, and there was no farther search made after me: but the Countess was amazed, as much as any of the soldiers, to find which way I had conveyed myself, when I came down and undeceived her; but when she saw from whence I came, she wondered more than before how I could get up so high; when trying the trick again, I could not do it, if I might have won never so considerable a wager upon it, without pulling down the sconce, and the tester also.

’.fter this, I remained there undiscovered the whole time the Prince was at _Hermione_’., till his coming to Court, when I verily believed he would have gained me my pardon, with his own; but the King had sworn my final destruction, if he ever got me in his power; and proclaiming me a traitor, seized all they could find of mine. It was then that I believed it high time to take my flight; which, as soon as I heard the Prince again in disgrace, I did, and got safely into _Holland_, where I remained about six weeks. But, oh! what is woman! The first news I heard, and that was while I remained at the Countess’s that my mistress, for whom I had taken such cares and who had professed to love me above all things, no sooner heard I was fled and proscribed, but retiring to a friend’s house, (for her own was seized for mine) and the officers imagining me there too, they came to search; and a young _cavalier_, of a noble aspect, great wit and courage, and indeed a very fine gentleman, was the officer that entered her chamber, to search for me; who, being at first sight surprised with her beauty, and melting with her tears, fell most desperately in love with her, and after hearing how she had lost all her money, plate, and jewels, and rich furniture, offered her his service to retrieve them, and did do it; and from one favour to another, continued so to oblige the fair fickle creature, that he won, with that and his handsome mien, a possession of her heart, and she yielded in a week’s time to my most mortal enemy. And the Countess, who at my going from her, swooned, and bathed me all in tears, making a thousand vows of fidelity, and never to favour mankind more: this very woman, sir, as soon as my back was turned, made new advances to a young lord, who, believing her to be none of the most faithful, would not trust her under matrimony: he being a man of no great fortune, and she a mistress of a very considerable one, his standing off on these terms inflames her the more; and I have advice, that she is very much in love with him, and it is believed will do what he desires of her: so that I was no sooner abandoned by fortune, but fickle woman followed her example, and fled me too. Thus, my lord, you have the history of my double unhappiness: and I am waiting here a fate which no human wit can guess at: the arrival of the Prince will give a little life to our affair; and I yet have hope to see him in _Paris_, at the head of forty thousand _Huguenots_, to revenge all the insolences we have suffered.’

After discoursing of several things, and of the fate of several persons, it was bed-time; and they taking leave, each man departed to his chamber.

_Philander_, while he was undressing, being alone with _Brilliard_, began to discourse of _Sylvia_, and to take some care of letting her know, he was arrived at _Brussels_; and for her convoy thither. _Brilliard_, who even yet retained some unaccountable hope, as lovers do, of one day being happy with that fair one; and believing he could not be so, with so much felicity, while she was in the hands of _Octavio_ as those of _Philander_, would never tell his lord his sentiments of her conduct, nor of her love to _Octavio_, and those other passages that had occurred in _Holland_: he only cried, he believed she might be overcome, being left to herself and by the merits and good fashion of _Octavio_; but would not give his master an absolute fear, or any account of truth, that he might live with her again, if possible, as before; and that she might hold herself so obliged to him for silence in these affairs, as might one day render him happy. These were the unweighed reasons he gave for deluding his lord into a kind opinion to the fickle maid: but ever when he named _Sylvia_, _Philander_ could perceive his blushes rise, and from them believed there was something behind in his thought, which he had a mind to know: he therefore pressed him to the last degree,--and cried--’Come--confess to me, _Brilliard_, the reason of your blushes: I know you are a lover, and I was content to suffer you my rival, knowing your respect to me.’ This, though he spoke smiling, raised a greater confusion in _Brilliard_’. heart. ‘I own, my lord,’ said he, ’.hat I have, in spite of that respect, and all the force of my soul, had the daring to love her whom you loved; but still the consideration of my obligations to your lordship surmounted that saucy flame, notwithstanding all the encouragement of your inconstancy, and the advantage of the rage it put Sylvia in against you.’ ‘How,’ cried _Philander_, ‘does _Sylvia_ know then of my falseness, and is it certain that _Octavio_ has betrayed me to her?’ With that _Brilliard_ was forced to advance, and with a design of some revenge upon _Octavio_, (who, he hoped, would be challenged by his lord, where one, or both might fall in the rencounter, and leave him master of his hopes) he told him all that had passed between them, all but real possession, which he only imagined, but laid the whole weight on _Octavio_, making _Sylvia_ act but as an incensed woman, purely out of high revenge and resentment of so great an injury as was done her love. He farther told him, how, in the extravagancy of her rage, she had resolved to marry _Octavio_, and how he prevented it by making a public declaration she was his wife already; and for which _Octavio_ procured the _States_ to put him in prison; but by an accident that happened to the uncle of _Octavio_, for which he was forced to fly, the _States_ released him, when he came to his lord: ‘How,’ cried _Philander_, ‘and is the traitor _Octavio_ fled from _Holland_, and from the reach of my chastisement?’ ‘Yes,’ replied _Brilliard_; ‘and not to hold you longer from the truth, has forced _Sylvia_ away with him.’ At this _Philander_ grew into a violent rage, sometimes against _Octavio_ for his treasons against friendship; sometimes he felt the old flame revive, raised and blown jealousy, and was raving to imagine any other should possess the lovely _Sylvia_. He now beholds her with all those charms that first fired him, and thinks, if she be criminal, it was only the effects of the greatest love, which always hurries women on to the highest revenges. In vain he seeks to extinguish his returning flame by the thought of _Calista_; yet, at that thought, he starts like one awakened from a dream of honour, to fall asleep again, and dream of love. Before it was rage and pride, but now it was tenderness and grief, softer passions, and more insupportable. New wounds smart most, but old ones are most dangerous. While he was thus raging, walking, pausing, and loving, one knocked at his chamber-door. It was _Sylvia_’. page, who had waited all the evening to speak to him, and could not till now be admitted. _Brilliard_ was just going to tell him he was there before, when he arrived now again: _Philander_ was all unbuttoned, his stockings down, and his hair under his cap, when the page, being let in by _Brilliard_, ran to his lord, who knew him and embraced him: and it was a pretty while they thus caressed each other, without the power of speaking; he of asking a question, and the boy of delivering his message; at last, he gave him _Sylvia_’. billet, which was thus--

_To_ PHILANDER.

False and perjured as you are, I languish for a sight of you, and conjure you to give it me, as soon as this comes to your hands. Imagine not, that I have prepared those instruments of revenge that are so justly due to your perfidy; but rather, that I have yet too tender sentiments for you, in spite of the outrage you have done my heart; and that for all the ruin you have made, I still adore you: and though I know you now another’s slave, yet I beg you would vouchsafe to behold the spoils you have made, and allow me this recompense for all, to say--Here was the beauty I once esteemed, though now she is no more _Philander_’.

SYLVIA.

’.ow,’ cried he out, ‘No more _Philander_’. _Sylvia_! By heaven, I had rather be no more _Philander_!’ And at that word, without considering whether he were in order for a visit or not, he advancing his joyful voice, cried out to the page, ‘Lead on, my faithful boy, lead on to _Sylvia_.’ In vain _Brilliard_ beseeches him to put himself into a better equipage; in vain he urges to him, the indecency of making a visit in that posture; he thought of nothing but _Sylvia_; however he ran after him with his hat, cloak, and comb, and as he was in the chair dressed his hair, and suffered the page to conduct him where he pleased: which being to _Sylvia_’., lodgings, he ran up stairs, and into her chamber, as by instinct of love, and found her laid on her bed, to which he made but one step from the door; and catching her in his arms, as he kneeled upon the carpet, they both remained unable to utter any thing but sighs: and surely _Sylvia_ never appeared more charming; she had for a month or two lived at her ease, and had besides all the advantage of fine dressing which she had purposely put on, in the most tempting fashion, on purpose to engage him, or rather to make him see how fine a creature his perfidy had lost him: she first broke silence, and with a thousand violent reproaches, seemed as if she would fain break from those arms, which she wished might be too strong for her force; while he endeavours to appease her as lovers do, protesting a thousand times that there was nothing in that history of his amour with _Calista_, but revenge on _Octavio_, who he knew was making an interest in her heart, contrary to all the laws of honour and friendship, (for he had learned, by the reproaches of the Lady Abbess, that _Calista_ was sister to _Octavio_). ‘He has had the daring to confess to me his passion,’ said he, ‘for you, and could I do less in revenge, than to tell him I had one for his sister? I knew by the violent reproaches I ever met with in your letters, though they were not plainly confessed, that he had played me foul, and discovered my feigned intrigue to you; and even this I suffered, to see how far you could be prevailed with against me. I knew _Octavio_ had charms of youth and wit, and that you had too much the ascendant over him, to be denied any secret you had a mind to draw from him; I knew your nature too curious, and your love too inquisitive, not to press him to a sight of my letters, which seen must incense you; and this trial I designedly made of your faith, and as a return to _Octavio_.’ Thus he flatters, and she believes, because she has a mind to believe; and thus by degrees he softens the listening _Sylvia_; swears his faith with sighs, and confirms it with his tears, which bedewed her fair bosom, as they fell from his bright dissembling eyes; and yet so well he dissembled, that he scarce knew himself that he did so: and such effects it wrought on _Sylvia_, that in spite of all her honour and vows engaged to _Octavio_, and horrid protestations never to receive again the fugitive to her arms, she suffers all he asks, gives herself up again to love, and is a second time undone. She regards him as one to whom she had a peculiar right as the first lover: she was married to his love, to his heart; and _Octavio_ appeared the intruding gallant, that would, and ought to be content with the gleanings of the harvest, _Philander_ should give him the opportunity to take up: and though, if she had at this very time been put to her sober choice, which she would have abandoned, it would have been _Philander_, as not in so good circumstances at that time to gratify all her extravagances of expense; but she would not endure to think of losing either: she was for two reasons covetous of both, and swore fidelity to both, protesting each the only man; and she was now contriving in her thoughts, how to play the jilt most artificially; a help-meet, though natural enough to her sex, she had not yet much essayed, and never to this purpose: she knew well she should have need of all her cunning in this affair; for she had to do with men of quality and honour, and too much wit to be grossly imposed upon. She knew _Octavio_ loved so well, it would either make her lose him by death, or resenting pride, if she should ever be discovered to him to be untrue; and she knew she should lose _Philander_ to some new mistress, if he once perceived her false. He asked her a thousand questions concerning _Octavio_, and she seemed to lavish every secret of her soul to her lover; but like a right woman, so ordered her discourse, as all that made for her advantage she declared, and all the rest she concealed. She told him, that those hopes which her revenge had made her give _Octavio_, had obliged him to present her with such and such fine jewels, such plate, such sums; and in fine, made him understand that all her trophies from the believing lover should be laid at his feet, who had conquered her heart: and that now, having enriched herself, she would abandon him wholly to despair. This did not so well satisfy Philander, but that he needed some greater proofs of her fidelity, fearing all these rich presents were not for a little hope alone; and she failed not giving what protestations he desired.

Thus the night passed away, and in the morning, she knowing he was not very well furnished with money, gave him the key of her cabinet, where she bid him furnish himself with all he wanted; which he did, and left her, to go take orders about his horses, and other affairs, not so absolutely satisfied of her virtue, but he feared himself put upon, which the advantage he was likely to reap by the deceit, made him less consider, than he would perhaps otherwise have done. He had all the night a full possession of _Sylvia_, and found in the morning he was not so violently concerned as he was over night: it was but a repetition of what he had been feasted with before; it was no new treat, but, like matrimony, went dully down: and now he found his heart warm a little more for _Calista_, with which little impatience he left _Sylvia_.

That morning a lady having sent to _Octavio_, to give her an assignation in the park; though he were not curious after beauty, yet believing there might be something more in it than merely a lady, he dressed himself and went, which was the reason he made not his visit that morning, as he used to do, to _Sylvia_, and so was yet ignorant of her ingratitude; while she, on the other side, finding herself more possessed with vanity than love; for having gained her end, as she imagined, and a second victory over his heart, in spite of all _Calista_’. charms, she did not so much consider him as before; nor was he so dear to her as she fancied he would have been, before she believed it possible to get him any more to her arms; and she found it was pride and revenge to _Calista_, that made her so fond of endearing him, and that she should thereby triumph over that haughty rival, who pretended to be so sure of the heart of her hero: and having satisfied her ambition in that point, she was more pleased than she imagined she should be, and could now turn her thoughts again to _Octavio_, whose charms, whose endearments, and lavish obligations, came anew to her memory, and made him appear the most agreeable to her genius and humour, which now leaned to interest more than love; and now she fancies she found _Philander_ duller in her arms than _Octavio_; that he tasted of _Calista_, while _Octavio_ was all her own entirely, adoring and ever presenting; two excellencies, of which _Philander_ now had but part of one. She found _Philander_ now in a condition to be ever taking from her, while _Octavio_’. was still to be giving; which was a great weight in the scale of love, when a fair woman guides the balance: and now she begins to distrust all that _Philander_ had said of his innocence, from what she now remembers she heard from _Calista_ herself, and reproaches her own weakness for believing: while her penitent thoughts were thus wandering in favour of _Octavio_, that lover arrived, and approached her with all the joy in his soul and eyes that either could express. ‘It is now, my fair charmer,’ said he, ‘that I am come to offer you what alone can make me more worthy of you----’ And pulling from his pocket the writings and inventories of all his own and his uncle’s estate--’See here,’ said he, ‘what those mighty powers that favour love have done for _Sylvia_. It is not,’ continued he, ‘the trifle of a million of money, (which these amount to) that has pleased me, but because I am now able to lay it without control at your feet.’ If she were before inclined to receive him well, what was she now, when a million of money rendered him so charming? She embraced his neck with her snowy arms, laid her cheeks to his ravished face, and kissed him a thousand welcomes; so well she knew how to make herself mistress of all this vast fortune. And I suppose he never appeared so fine, as at this moment. While she thus caressed him, he could not forbear sighing, as if there were yet something behind to complete his happiness: for though Octavio were extremely blinded with love, he had abundance of wit, and a great many doubts, (which were augmented by the arrival of _Philander_) and he was, too wise and too haughty, to be imposed upon, at least as he believed: and yet he had so very good an opinion of _Sylvia_’. honour and vows, which she had engaged to him, that he durst hardly name his fears, when by his sighs she found them: and willing to leave no obstacle unremoved, that might hinder her possessing this fortune, she told him; ‘My dear _Octavio_--I am sensible these sighs proceed from some fears you have of _Philander_’. being in _Brussels_, and consequently that I will see him, as heretofore; but be assured, that that false man shall no more dare to pretend to me; but, on the contrary, I will behold him as my mortal enemy, the murderer of my fame and innocence, and as the most ungrateful and perfidious man that ever lived.’ This she confirmed with oaths and tears, and a thousand endearing expressions. So that establishing his heart in a perfect tranquillity, and he leaving his writings and accounts with her, he told her he was obliged to dine with the advocates, who had acted for him in _Holland_, and could not stay to dine with her.

You must know, that as soon as the noise of old _Sebastian_, _Octavio_’. uncle’s death was noised about, and that he was thereupon fled, they seized all the estates, both that of the uncle, and that of _Octavio_, as belonging to him by right of law; but looking upon him as his uncle’s murderer, they were forfeited to the _States_. This part of ill news _Octavio_ kept from _Sylvia_, but took order, that such a process might be begun in his name with the _States_ that might retrieve it; and sent word, if it could not be carried on by attornies (for he was not, he said, in health) that nevertheless he would come into _Holland_ himself. But they being not able to prove, by the witness of any of _Octavio_’. or _Sebastian_’. servants, that _Octavio_ had any hand in his death; but, on the contrary all circumstances, and the coroner’s verdict, brought it in as a thing done by accident, and through his own fault, they were obliged to release to _Octavio_ all his fortune, with that of his uncle, which was this day brought to him, by those he was obliged to dine, and make up some accounts withal: he therefore told her, he feared he should be absent all that afternoon; which she was the more pleased at, because if _Philander_ should return before she had ordered the method of their visit, so as not to meet with each other (which was her only contrivance now) she should be sure he would not see or be seen by _Octavio_; who had no sooner taken his leave, but _Philander_ returns; who being now fully bent upon some adventure to see _Calista_, if possible, and which intrigue would take up his whole time; to excuse his absence to the jealous _Sylvia_, he feigned that he was sent to by _Cesario_, to meet him upon the frontiers of _France_, and conduct him into _Flanders_, and that he should be absent some days. This was as _Sylvia_ could have wished; and after forcing herself to take as kind a leave of him as she could, whose head was wholly possessed with a million of gold, she sent him away, both parties being very well pleased with the artifices with which they jilted each other. At _Philander_’., going into his chair, he was seen by the old Count of _Clarinau_, who, cured perfectly of his wound, was come thither to seek _Philander_, in order to take the revenge of a man of honour, as he called it; which in _Spanish_ is the private stab, for private injuries; and indeed more reasonable than base _French_ duelling, where the injured is as likely to suffer as the injurer: but _Clarinau_ durst not attack him by day-light in the open street, nor durst he indeed appear in his own figure in the King of _Spain_’. dominions, standing already there convicted of the murder of his first wife; but in a disguise came to _Brussels_. The chair with _Philander_ was no sooner gone from the lodgings, but he inquired of some of the house, who lodged there that that gentleman came to visit? And they told him a great-bellied woman, who was a woman of quality, and a stranger: this was sufficient, you may believe, for him to think it Madam the Countess of _Clarinau_. With this assurance he repairs to his lodging, which was but hard by, and sets a footman that attended him to watch the return of _Philander_ to those lodgings, which he believed would not be long: the footman, who had not seen _Philander_, only asked a description of him; he told him, he was a pretty tall man, in black clothes (for the Court was then in mourning) with long black hair, fine black eyes, very handsome, and well made; this was enough for the lad; he thought he should know him from a thousand by these marks and tokens. Away goes the footman, and waited till the shutting in of the evening, and then, running to his lord, told him, that _Philander_ was come to those lodgings; that he saw him alight out of the chair, and took perfect notice of him; that he was sure it was that _Philander_ he looked for: _Clarinau_, overjoyed that his revenge was at hand, took his dagger, sword and pistol, and hasted to _Sylvia_’. lodgings, where he found the chair still waiting, and the doors all open; he made no more ado, but goes in and ascends the stairs, and passes on, without opposition, to the very chamber where they sat, _Sylvia_ in the arms of her lover, not _Philander_, but _Octavio_, who being also in black, tall, long, brown hair, and handsome, and by a sight that might very well deceive; he made no more to do, not doubting but it was _Philander_ and _Calista_, but steps to him, and offering to stab him, was prevented by his starting at the suddenness of his approach; however, the dagger did not absolutely miss him, but wounded him in the left arm; but _Octavio_’. youth, too nimble for _Clarinau_’. age, snatching at the dagger as it wounded him, at once prevented the hurt being much, and returned a home blow at _Clarinau_, so that he fell at _Sylvia_’. feet, whose shrieks alarmed the house to their aid, where they found by the light of the candle that was brought, that the man was not dead, but lay gazing on _Octavio_, who said to him, ‘Tell me, thou unfortunate wretch, what miserable fate brought thee to this place, to disturb the repose of those who neither know thee, nor had done thee injury?’ ‘Ah, sir,’ replied _Clarinau_, ‘you have reason for what you say, and I ask heaven, that unknown lady, and yourself, a thousand pardons for my mistake and crime: too late I see my error, pity and forgive me; and let me have a priest, for I believe I am a dead man.’ _Octavio_ was extremely moved with compassion at these words, and immediately sent his page, who was alarmed up in the crowd, for a Father and a surgeon; and he declared before the rest, that he forgave that stranger, meaning _Octavio_, since he had, by a mistake of his footman, pulled on his own death, and had deserved it: and thereupon, as well as he could, he told them for whom he had mistaken _Octavio_, who, having injured his honour, he had vowed revenge upon; and that he took the fair lady, meaning _Sylvia_, for a faithless wife of his, who had been the authoress of all this. _Octavio_ soon divined this to be his brother-in-law, _Clarinau_, whom yet he had never seen; and stooping down to him, he cried, ‘It is I, sir, that ought to demand a thousand pardons of you, for letting the revenge of _Calista_’. honour alone so long.’ _Clarinau_ wondered who he should be that named _Calista_, and asking him his name, he told him he was the unhappy brother to that fair wanton, whose story was but too well known to him. Thus while _Clarinau_ viewing his face, found him the very picture of that false charmer; while _Octavio_ went on and assured him, if it were his unhappiness to die, that he would revenge the honour of him and his sister, on the betrayer of both. By this time the surgeon came who found not his wound to be mortal, as was feared, and ventured to remove him to his own lodgings, whither _Octavio_ would accompany him; and leaving _Sylvia_ inclined, after her fright, to be reposed, he took his leave of her for that evening, not daring, out of respect to her, to visit her any more that night: he was no sooner gone, but _Philander_, who never used to go without two very good pocket-pistols about him, having left them under his pillow last night at _Sylvia’s_ lodgings; and being upon love-adventures, he knew not what occasion he might have for them, returned back to her lodgings: when he came, she was a little surprised at first to see him, but after reflecting on what revenge was threatened him, she exposed _Octavio’s_ secret to him, and told him the whole adventure, and how she had got his writings, which would be all her own, if she might be suffered to manage the fond believer. But he, whose thought ran on the revenge was threatened him, cried out--’He has kindly awakened me to my duty by what he threatens; it is I that ought to be revenged on his perfidy, of shewing you my letters; and to that end, by heaven, I will defer all the business in the world to meet him, and pay his courtesy--If I had enjoyed his sister, he might suppose I knew her not to be so; and what man of wit or youth, would refuse a lovely woman, that presents a heart laden with love, and a person all over charms, to his bosom? I were to be esteemed unworthy the friendship of a man of honour, if I should: but he has basely betrayed me every way, makes love to my celebrated mistress, whom he knows I love, and getting secrets, unravels them to make his court and his access the easier.’

She foresaw the dangerous consequence of a quarrel of this nature, and had no sooner blown the fire, (which she did, to the end that _Philander_ should avoid her lodgings, and all places where he might meet _Octavio_) but she hinders all her designs; and fixing him there, he was resolved to expect him at the first place he thought most likely to find him in: she endeavoured, by a thousand entreaties, to get him gone, urging it all for his safety; but that made him the more resolved; and all she could do, could not hinder him from staying supper, and after that, from going to bed: so that she was forced to hide a thousand terrors and fears by feigned caresses, the sooner to get him to meet _Cesario_ in the morning, as he said he was to do; and though she could not help flattering both, while by; yet she ever loved the absent best; and now repented a thousand times that she had told him any thing.

Early the next morning, as was his custom, _Octavio_ came to inquire of _Sylvia_’. health; and though he had oftentimes only inquired and no more, (taking excuse of ill nights, or commands that none should come to her till she called) and had departed satisfied, and came again: yet now, when he went into _Antonet_’. chamber, he found she was in a great consternation, and her looks and flattering excuses made him know, there was more than usual in his being to-day denied; he therefore pressed it the more, and she grew to greater confusion by his pressing her. At last he demanded the key of her lady’s chamber, he having, he said, business of great importance to communicate to her; she told him she had as great reason not to deliver it,--’That is,’ said she, (fearing she had said too much) ‘my lady’s commands’. and finding no persuasion would prevail, and rather venturing _Sylvia_’. eternal displeasure, than not to be satisfied in the jealousies she had raised; especially reflecting on _Philander_’. being in town, he took _Antonet_ in his arms, and forced the key from her; who was willing to be forced; for she admired _Octavio_’. bounty, and cared not for _Philander_. _Octavio_ being master of the key, flies to _Sylvia_’. door like lightning, or a jealous lover, mad to discover what seen would kill him: he opens the chamber-door, and goes softly to the bed-side, as if he now feared to find what he sought, and wished to heaven he might be mistaken; he opened the curtains, and found _Sylvia_ sleeping with _Philander_ in her arms. I need make no description of his confusion and surprise; the character I have given of that gallant honest, generous lover, is sufficient to make you imagine his heart, when indeed he could believe his eyes: before he thought--he was about to draw his sword, and run them both through, and revenge at once his injured honour, his love, and that of his sister; but that little reason he had left checked that barbarity, and he was readier, from his own natural sweetness of disposition, to run himself upon his own sword: and there the Christian pleaded----and yet found his heart breaking, his whole body trembling, his mind all agony, his cheeks cold and pale, his eyes languishing, his tongue refusing to give utterance to his pressure, and his legs to support his body; and much ado he had to reel into _Antonet_’., chamber, where he found the maid dying with grief for her concern for him. He was no sooner got to her bed-side, but he fell dead upon it; while she, who was afraid to alarm her lady and _Philander_, lest _Octavio_, being found there, had accused her with betraying them; but shutting the door close, (for yet no body had seen him but herself) she endeavoured all she could to bring him to life again, and it was a great while before she could do so: as soon as he was recovered, he lay a good while without speaking, reflecting on his fate; but after appearing as if he had assumed all his manly spirits together, he rose up, and conjured _Antonet_ to say nothing of what had happened, and that she should not repent the service she would do him by it. _Antonet_, who was his absolute, devoted slave, promised him all he desired; and he had the courage to go once again, to confirm himself in the lewdness of this undone fair one, whose perjuries had rendered her even odious now to him, and he beheld her with scorn and disdain: and that she might know how indifferently he did so, (when she should come to know it) he took _Philander_’. sword that lay on her _toilet_, and left his own in the place, and went out pleased; at least in this, that he had commanded his passion in the midst of the most powerful occasion for madness and revenge that ever was.

They lay thus secured in each other’s arms till nine o’clock in the morning, when _Philander_ received a note from _Brilliard_, who was managing his lord’s design of getting a billet delivered to _Calista_ by the way of a nun, whom _Brilliard_ had made some address to, to that end, and sent to beg his lord would come to the grate, and speak to the young nun, who had undertaken for any innocent message. This note made him rise and haste to go out, when he received another from an unknown hand; which was thus:

* * * * *

_To_ Philander.

My Lord, I have important business with you, and beg I may speak with you at three of the clock; I will wait for you by the fountain in the park: Yours.

* * * * *