Chapter X: Part 10

Mattakesa was punctual to the promise she had made in her letter; and when she came into the room, where she usually found the gentlemen altogether, it being that where they dined, and saw not Horatio, she doubted not but he had observed her directions, and pretended himself indisposed, so asked for him, expecting to be told that he was ill; but when they answered that he was gone with one of the keepers to the top of the round tower, in order to satisfy his curiosity in taking a view of the town, she was confounded beyond expression, and could not imagine what had occasioned him to slight an assignation, she had flattered herself he would receive with extacy.

As she was in a little resvery, endeavouring to comprehend, if possible, the motive of so manifest a neglect, Mullern drew near to her, and beginning to speak of the beauties of that fine city which the czar had erected in the midst of war, he told her, that having a little skill in drawing, he had ventured to make a little sketch of it in chalk on the walls of the room where he lay, and entreated her in the most gallant manner to look upon it, and give him her opinion how far he had done justice to an edifice so much admired.

It cannot be supposed that Mattakesa had in her soul any curiosity to see a work of this nature, yet, to hide as much as she could the disorder she was in at her disappointment, gave him her hand, in order to be concluded to the place where he pretended to have been exercising his genius.

As soon as they were entered he threw the door, as if by incident, which having a spring lock, immediately was made fast--She either did not, or seemed not to regard what he had done; but casting her eyes round the room, and seeing nothing of what he had mentioned,--Where is this drawing? cried she. In my heart, adorable Mattakesa, answered he, falling at her feet at the same time:--it is not the city of Petersburg, but the charming image of its brightest ornament, that the god of love has engraven on my heart in characters too indelible ever to be erased:--from the first moment I beheld those eyes my soul has been on fire, and I must have consumed with inward burnings had I not revealed my flame:--pardon, continued he, the boldness of a passion which knows no bounds; and tho' I may not be so worthy of your love as the too happy Horatio, I am certainly not less deserving of your pity.

Surprize, and perhaps a mixture of secret satisfaction prevented her from interrupting him during the first part of his discourse; but rage, at the mention of Horatio, forced from her this exclamation:--has the villain then betrayed me! cried she.--No, madam, replied he, justice obliges me to acquit him, tho' my rival.--He had the misfortune, in putting your billet into his pocket, to let it fall; I took it up unseen by him,--opened it, read it, and must confess, that all my generosity to my friend was wholly swallowed up in my passion for you.--I returned not to him that kind declaration you were pleased to make him, and he is ignorant of the blessing you intended for him:--if the crime I have been guilty of seem unpardonable in your eyes, command my death, I will instantly obey you, for life would be a torment under your displeasure; and if, in my last moments, you vouchsafe some part of that softness to the occasion of my fate, that you so lavishly bestowed on the fortunate Horatio, I will bless the lovely mouth that dooms me to destruction!

He pronounced all this with an emphasis, which made her not doubt the power of her charms; and surveying him while he was speaking, found enough in his person to compensate for the disappointment she had met with from Horatio: besides, she reflected, that if what he had told her concerning the dropping her letter, was a fiction, it was however an ingenious one, and shewed his wit, as well as love, in bringing both himself and friend off in so handsome a manner. She was infatuated with the praises he gave her;--the pathetic expressions he made use of, assured her of the ardency of his desires, and as she could not be certain of being able to inspire Horatio with the same, she wisely chose to accept the present offer, rather than wait for what might perhaps at last deceive her expectations. She made, however, no immediate answer; but her eyes told him she was far from being displeased with what he had said, and gave him courage to take up one of her hands and kiss it, with an eagerness which confirmed his protestations.

At last,--Well, Mullern, said she, looking languishingly on him, since chance has made you acquainted with my foible, I think I must bribe you to secrecy, by forgiving the liberties you take with me:--and if I were convinced you really love me as well as you pretend, might indulge you yet farther.--An unaccountable caprice indeed swayed me in favour of Horatio, but I am now half inclinable to believe you are more deserving my regard;--but rise, continued she, I will hear nothing from you while in that posture.

Mullern, who was no less bold in love than war, immediately obeyed her, and testified his gratitude for her condescention, by giving a sudden spring and snatching her to his breast, pressed her in so arduous a manner, that she would have been incapable of resisting, even tho' she had an inclination to do so: but she, no less transported than himself, returned endearment for endearment, and not only permitted, but assisted all his raptures,--absolutely forgot Horatio, as well as all sense of her own shame, and yielded him a full enjoyment without even an affectation of repugnance.

Both parties, in fine, were perfectly satisfied with each other, and having mutually sworn a thousand oaths of fidelity which neither of them, it is probable, had any intention to keep, Mullern took upon himself the care of continuing to entertain her in private as often as she came to the prison, and in return she made him a present of a purse of gold, after which they passed into the outer room to prevent censures on their staying too long together.

On their return they found Horatio with the other gentlemen. Abandoned as Mattakesa was, she could not keep herself from blushing a little at sight of him; but soon recovering herself by the help of her natural audacity,--Well, Horatio, said she, what do you think of the little French epigram I put into your hands yesterday;--has it not a very agreeable point?

Horatio had such an aversion to all kind of deceit, that even here, where it was so necessary, he could not, without some hesitation, answer to what she said in these words.--Some accident or other, cried he, deprived me of the pleasure you were so good to intend me; for when I put my hand in my pocket thinking to read it, I perceived I was so unhappy as to have lost, it:--I looked for it in vain:--it was irrecoverably gone, and I am an utter stranger to the contents.

And ever shall be so, replied she tartly, only to punish your carelessness of a lady's favour; know, that it was a piece of wit which would have been highly agreeable to you:--but don't expect I shall take the pains to write it over again, or even tell you the subject on which it turned.

Horatio cooly said, he could not but confess he had been to blame, and must therefore allow the justice of her proceeding. As none present besides himself, his bedfellow, and Mullern, knew the truth of this affair, what passed between them was taken by the others as literally spoken, and little suspected to couch the mystery it really did.

Mullern, after this, by the assistance of Horatio and the old officer, had frequent opportunities of gratifying his own and the amorous Mattakesa's desires.--The testimonies she gave him how well she was pleased with his conversation, were for the common good of his companions.--Horatio was easy in finding himself out of all danger of any solicitations he was determined never to acquiesce in; and those three who were in the secret passed their time pleasantly enough, whenever they had an opportunity of talking on this adventure, without any of the others being witnesses of what they said.

CHAP. XXI.

_The prisoners expectations raised: a terrible disappointment: some of the chief carried to prince Menzikoff's palace: their usage there. Horatio set at liberty, and the occasion_.

Our captives had soon after a new matter of rejoicing: a Polander in the service of Muscovy, who had been taken prisoner by the Swedes, and was discharged and sent home, with a great number of others, by the unparallell'd generosity of Charles XII. was one of the guards who now did duty in the prison. It was often his turn to bring them their poor allowance of provision; and having some pity for their condition, as well as gratitude for a people who had used him and his companions in a different manner, told them, that they might be of good heart, for, said he, you will soon be set at liberty:--our emperor has enough to do to keep his ground in Ukraina: Charles is as victorious as ever:--the prince of the Cosaques, one of the bravest men on earth, next to himself, has entered into an alliance with him:--king Stanislaus is sending him succours from Poland:--a powerful reinforcement is coming to him from Lithuania; and when these armies are joined, as I believe they already are, nothing can withstand them:--you will hear the Swedish march beat from this prison walls,--and perhaps see your present conquerors change places with you; and, to confirm the truth of what I say, continued he, I can further assure you that the czar, before I left the camp, was in the utmost confusion:--his council, as well as army, were at a stand, and he had twice made overtures of peace, and been refused.

This was an intelligence which might well be transporting to the king of Sweden's officers:--the thought; of seeing him enter Petersburgh a conqueror,--of once more embracing their old friends and companions, and of triumphing over those who had so cruelly abused the power the chance of war had put into their hands, made them all, in their turns, hug and bless the kind informer:--they also asked him several questions concerning the generals; and each being more particular concerning those they had the greatest interest in, received from this honest soldier all the satisfaction they could desire.

As couriers were continually arriving from the army, there passed few days without hearing some farther confirmation of their most sanguine expectations; but at length the guard being again changed, they lost all further intelligence, and were for several months without being able to hear any thing of what passed. They doubted not, however, but as things were in so good a disposition, every day brought them nearer to the completion of their wishes; and it was this pleasing prospect which addressed their misfortunes, and enabled them to sustain cheerfully those hardships which, almost ever since the withdrawing of Edella's bounty, they had laboured under.--Mattakesa, in the beginning of her amours with Mullern, had indeed made him some presents, which he shared with his companions; but either the natural inconstancy of her temper making her grow weary of this intrigue for the sake of another, or her circumstances not allowing her to continue such Donations, she soon grew sparing of them, and at length totally desisted her visits at the prison.

As, ever since the compassionate Edella had procured them to be removed from the dungeon, they had enjoyed the privilege of walking on the leads, and going up to the round tower, which being of a very great height, not only overlooked the town, but the country round for a considerable distance, they frequently made use of this indulgence, at first for no other purpose than to have the benefit of the open air, but now in hope of seeing their beloved prince at the head of a victorious army approaching to give them liberty and relief.--But, alas! how terrible a reverse of their high-raised expectations had inconstant fortune in store for them.--One day as they were sitting together, discoursing on the usual topics with which they entertained each other, and endeavoured to beguile the tedious time, they heard a confused noise as of some sudden tumult.--Tho' they had now been above a year in Russia, none of them could speak the language well enough to be understood, so could receive no information from the guard, even should they have proved good-natured enough to be willing to satisfy their curiosity, so they all run hastily up to the round tower, whence they easily perceived the town in great confusion, and the people running in such crowds, that in the hurry many were trampled to death in endeavouring to pass the gates:--at a distance they perceived standards waving in the air, but could not yet distinguish what arms they bore.--A certain shivering and palpitation, the natural consequence of suspence, ran thro' all their nerves, divided as they were at this sight, between hope and fear; but when it drew more near,--when, instead of Swedish colours they beheld those of Russia;--when, in the place where they expected to see their gallant king coming to restore them once more to freedom, they saw the implacable czar enter in triumph, followed by those heroes, the least of whom had lately made him tremble, now in chains, and exposed to the ribald mirth and derision of the gaping crowd, they lost at once their fortitude, and even all sense of expressing their grief at this misfortune:--the shock of it was so violent, it even took away the power of feeling it, and they remained for some moments rather like statues carv'd out by mortal art, than real men created by God, and animated with living souls. A general groan was the first mark they gave of any sensibility of this dreadful stroke of fate; but when recruited spirits once more gave utterance to words, how terrible were their exclamations! Some of them, in the extravagance of despair, said things relating to fate and destiny, which, on a less occasion, could have little merited forgiveness.

Unable either to remove from the place, or view distinctly what their eyes were fixed upon, they stayed till the whole cavalcade was passed, then went down and threw themselves upon the floor, where their ears were deafen'd by the noise of guns, loud huzza's, and other testimonies of popular rejoicings, both within and without the prison walls.--What have we now to expect? cried one,--endless slavery:--chains, infamy, lasting as our lives, replied another. Then let us dye, added a third. Right, said his companion feircely;--the glory of Sweden is lost!--Let us disappoint these barbarians, these Russian monsters, of the pleasure of insulting us on our country's fall.

In this romantic and distracted manner did they in vain endeavour to discharge their breasts of the load of anguish each sustained.--Their misfortune was not of a nature to be alleviated by words;--it was too mighty for expression; and the more they spoke, the more they had yet to say.--For three whole days they refused the wretched sustenance brought to them; neither did the least slumber ever close their eyelids by night: on the fourth the keeper of the prison came, and told them they must depart.---They endeavoured not to inform themselves how or where they were to be disposed of; in their present condition all places were alike to them, so followed him, without speaking, down stairs, at the bottom of which they found a strong guard of thirty soldiers, who having chained them in a link, like slaves going to be sold at the market, conducted them to a very stately palace adjoining to that belonging to the czar.

They were but eight in number, out of fifty-five who had been taken prisoners at the time Horatio was, and were thrown altogether in the dungeon, the others having perished thro' cold and the noysomeness of the place, before Edella had procured them a more easy situation; but these eight that survived were all officers, and most of them men of distinguished birth as well as valour, tho' their long imprisonment, scanty food, and more than all, the grief they at present laboured under made them look rather like ghosts, than men chose out of thousands to fight always near the king of Sweden's person in every hazardous attempt.

They were placed in a stately gallery, and there left, while the officer, who commanded the party that came with them, went into an inner room, but soon after returned, and another person with him; on which, the first of this unhappy string was loosed from his companions, and a signal made to him to enter a door, which was opened for him, and immediately closed again.

For about half an hour there was a profound silence: our prisoners kept it thro' astonishment; and the others, it is to be supposed, had orders for doing so.--At the end of that time the door was again opened, and the chain which fastened the second Swede to the others, was untied, and he, in like manner as the former, bid to go in.--In some time after, the same ceremony was observed to a third;--then to a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh:--Horatio chanced to be the last, who, tho' alarmed to a very great degree at the thoughts of what fate might have been inflicted on his companions, went fearless in, more curious to know the meaning of this mysterious proceeding, than anxious for what might befal him.

He had no sooner passed the door, than he found himself in a spacious chamber richly adorned, at the upper end of which sat a man, leaning his head upon his arm in a thoughtful posture.--Horatio immediately knew him to be prince Menzikoff, whom he had seen during a short truce between the czar and king Charles of Sweden, when both their armies were in Lithuania. There were no other persons present than one who had the aspect of a jew, and as it proved was so, that stood near the prince's chair, and a soldier who kept the door.

Horatio was bid to approach, and when he did so,--you are called hither, said the jew in the Swedish language, to answer to such questions as shall be asked you, concerning a conspiracy carried on between you and your fellow-prisoners with the enemies of Russia. Horatio understood the language perfectly well, having conversed so long with Swedes, but never could attain to a perfect pronounciation of it, so replied in French, that he knew the prince could speak French, and he would therefore answer to any interrogatories his highness should be pleased to make without the help of an interpreter.

Are you not then a Swede? said the prince. Horatio then told him that he was not, but came from France into the service of the king of Sweden merely thro' his love of arms.

On these words Menzikoff dismissed the jew, and looked earnestly on him; wan and pale as he was grown thro' his long confinement, and the many hardships he had sustained, this prince found something in him that attracted his admiration.--Methinks, said he, since glory was your aim, you might as well have hoped to acquire it under the banners of our invincible emperor.

Alas! my lord, replied Horatio with a sigh, that title, till very lately, was given to the king of Sweden, and, I believe, whatever fate has attended that truly great prince, those who had the honour to be distinguished by him, will never be suspected either of cowardice or baseness.--It was by brave and open means our king taught his soldiers the way to victory, not by mean subterfuges and little plots:--I cannot therefore conceive for what reason I am brought hither to be examined on any score that has the appearance of a conspiracy.

Yes, replied the prince feircely, you and your fellow-prisoners have endeavoured to insinuate yourselves into the favour of persons whom you imagined entrusted with the secrets of the government:--being prisoners of war, you formed contrivances for your escape, and attempted to inveigle others to accompany your flight.

That every tittle of this accusation is false, my lord, cried Horatio, there needs no more than the improbability of it to prove.--Indeed the cruel usage we sustained, might have justified an attempt to free ourselves, yet did such a design never enter our heads:--we were so far from making use of any stratagems for that purpose, that we never made the least overture to any of the guards, who were the only persons we were allowed to converse with.

How! said the prince interrupting him, were not your privileges enlarged by the interposition of a lady?--Did she not make you considerable allowances out of her own purse, and frequently visit you to receive your thanks?--And were you not emboldened by these favours to urge her to reveal what secrets were in her knowledge, and even to assist you in your escape?--You doubtless imagined you could prevail on her also to go with you:--part of this, continued he, she has herself confessed:--it will therefore be in vain for you to deny it:--if you ingenuously reveal these particulars she has omitted, you may hope to find favour; but it you obstinately persist, as your companions have done, in attempting to impose upon me, you must expect to share the same fate immediately.

In speaking these words he made a sign to the soldier, who throwing open a large folding door, discovered a rack on which one of the Swedish officers was tied, and the others stood near bound, and in the hands of the executioner.

This sight so amazed Horatio, that he had not the power of speaking one word;--till Mullern, who happened to be the person that was fastened upon the rack, cried out to him,--Be not lost in consideration, Horatio, said he; are we not in the hands of Muscovites, from whom nothing that is human can be expected?--rather prepare yourself to disappoint their cruelty, by bravely suffering all they dare inflict.

Hold then, said Horatio, even Muscovites would chuse to have some pretence for what they do; and sure the first favourite and generalissimo of a prince, who boasts an inclination to civilize his barbarous subjects, will not, without any cause, torture them whom chance alone has put into his power, and who have never done him any personal injury.--By heaven, pursued he, turning to the prince, we all are innocent of any part of those crimes laid to our charge:--time, perhaps, if our declarations are ineffectual, will convince your highness we are so, and you will then regret the injustice you have done us.

You all are in one story, cried the prince, but I am well assured of the main point:--the particulars is all I want to be informed of:--but since I am compelled to speak more plain, which of you is it for whose sake you all received such instances of Edella's bounty?--Whoever tells me that, even tho' it be the person himself, shall have both pardon and liberty.

Impossible it is to express the astonishment every one was in at this demand: five of them had not the least notion what it meant; but Mullern, Horatio, and that friend to whom he had shewn the letter of Mattakesa, had some conjecture of the truth, and presently imagined that lady had been the incendiary to kindle the flame of jealousy in the prince's breast. The affair, however, was of so nice a nature, that they knew not how to vindicate Edella without making her seem more guilty, so contented themselves with joining with the others, in protesting they knew of no one among them who could boast of receiving any greater favours from her than his fellows, but that what she did was instigated merely by compassion, since she had never seen, or knew who any of them were, till after she had moved the governor in their behalf:--they acknowledged she had been so good as to come sometimes to the prison, in order to see if those she entrusted with her bounty had been faithful in the delivery of it; but that she never made the least difference between them, and never had conversation with any one of them that was not in the presence of them all. Mullern could not forbear adding to this, that he doubted not but the persons who had incensed his highness into groundless surmises, were also the same who had hindered her, by some false insinuations or other, from continuing the allowance her charity allowed them, and for the want of which they had since been near perishing.

Prince Menzikoff listened attentively to what each said, and with no less earnestness fixed his eyes on the face of every one as they spoke.--Finding they had done, he was about giving some orders on their account, when the keeper of the prison came hastily into the room, and having entreated pardon for the interruption, presented a letter to the prince, directed for brigadier Mullern, and brought, he said, just after the prisoners were carried out.

Menzikoff commended his zeal in receiving and bringing it to him, as it might possibly serve to give some light to the affair he was examining.

Having perused it, he demanded which of them was named Mullern? I am, replied the brave Swede; and neither fear, nor am ashamed of any thing under that name.

Hear then what is wrote to you by a lady, resumed the prince, with a countenance more serene than he had worn since their being brought before him, and presently read with a very audible voice these words:

"That you have been so long without seeing me, my dear Mullern, or hearing from me, is not owing to any decrease in my affection, but to the necessity of my affairs:--if you have any regard for me remaining, I conjure you, if ever you are asked any questions concerning the frequent visits I have made you, to say I was sent by Edella, and that I was no more than her emissary in the assistance you received from me:--add also, that you have reason to believe her charity was excited by her liking one of your company:--mention who you think fit; but I believe Horatio, as the youngest and most handsome, will be the most likely to gain credit to what you say.-- Depend upon it, that if you execute this commission artfully, I will recompence it by procuring your liberty:--nor need you have any scruples concerning it, for no person will be prejudiced by it, and the reputation preserved of

_Yours,_

MATTAKESA."

I suppose, said the prince, as soon as he had done reading, turning to Horatio, you are the person mentioned in the letter? Tho' I neither desire nor deserve the epithets given me there my lord, replied he, yet I will not deny but I am called Horatio.

Well, resumed the prince with a half smile, I am so well pleased with the conviction this letter has given me, that I shall retain no resentment against the malicious author of it.

He then ordered Mullern to be taken from the rack, which had never been strained; nor had he any intention, as he now assured him, to put him to the torture, but only to intimidate him, being resolved to make use of every method he could think of for the full discovery of every thing relating to the behaviour of his beloved Edella.--The other gentlemen had also their fetters taken off, and the prince asked pardon of them severally for the injury he had done them; then made them sit down and partake of a handsome collation at that table, before which they had so lately stood as delinquents at a bar.

The Russians are excessive in their carouses, and prince Menzikoff being now in an admirable good humour, made them drink very freely:--to be the more obliging to his guests, he began the king of Sweden's health in a bumper of brandy, protesting at the same time, that tho' an enemy to his master, he loved and venerated the hero: Horatio on this ventured to enquire in what condition his majesty was; to which the prince replied, that being greatly wounded, he was obliged to leave the field, and, it was believed, had took the load toward the dominions of the grand signior, some of the Russian troops having pursued him as far as the Borysthenes where, by the incredible valour of a few that attended him, they had been beat back.

The Swedish officers knew it must be bad indeed when their king was compelled to fly; and this renewed in them a melancholy, which it was not in the power of liquor, or the present civilities of the prince to dissipate: they also learned that the generals Renchild, Slipenbock, Hamilton, Hoorn, Leuenhaup, and Stackelburg, with the prince of Wirtemburg, count Piper, and the flower of the whole army, were prisoners at Muscow.

The misfortune of these great men would have been very afflicting to those who heard it, could any thing have given addition to what they knew before.--Prince Menzikoff was sensible of what they felt, and to alleviate their grief, assured them that he would take upon him to give them all their liberty, without even exacting a promise from them never more to draw their swords against the czar, in case the king of Sweden should ever be able to take the field again.

So generous a proceeding both merited and received their utmost acknowledgments: but he put an end to the serious demonstrations they were about to make him of their gratitude, by saying,--I pay you no more than I owe you:--I have wronged you:--this is but part of the retaliation I ought to make:--besides, added he laughing, Mattakesa promised Mullern his freedom; and as she has done me the good office, tho' undesignedly, of revealing to me her own treachery, I can do no less than assist her in fulfilling, her covenant.

To prove how much he was in earnest, he called his secretary, and ordered him to make out their passports with all expedition, that they might be ready to depart next morning; after which he made them repose themselves in his palace the remainder of the night; which being in a manner vastly different from what they had been accustomed to of a long time, indeed ever since their quitting Alranstadt, they did not fail to do, notwithstanding the discontent of their minds.

Prince Menzikoff, being now convinced of the fidelity of Edella, passed into her apartment, where the reconciliation between them took up so much time, that it was near noon next day before he appeared: his new guests had not quitted their chambers much sooner; but after reproaching themselves for having been so tardy, went altogether to take leave of the prince, and accept the passports he had been so good to order. As they were got ready, he gave them immediately into their hands, and told them, they were at liberty to quit Petersburg that moment, if they pleased; or if they had any curiosity to take a view of that city, they might gratify it, and begin their journey next morning. As it was now so late in the day, they accepted his highness's offer, and walked out to see a place which had excited so much admiration in the world, since from a wild waste, in ten years time, a spacious and most beautiful city had arose in the midst of war, and proved the genius of the founder greater in civil than in military arts, tho' it must be owned he was indefatigable in the study of both.

The officers of the king of Sweden were entertained with the same elegance and good humour they had been the night before; and as they were now resolved to quit the city extremely early, the prince took leave of them that night, and in doing so put a purse of gold into the hands of every one to defray the expenses of their travelling. This behaviour obliged them to own there was a possibility of sowing the seeds of humanity in Muscovy, and that the czar had made some progress in influencing those about him with the manners he had himself learned in the politer courts.

CHAP. XXII.

_What befel Louisa in the monastery: the stratagem she put in practice to get out of it: her travels thro' Italy, and arrival in Paris_.

But while Horatio was thus experiencing the vicissitudes of fortune, his beautiful sister suffered little less from the caprice of that fickle goddess. Placed as she was, one would have thought she had been secure from all the temptations, hurries, and dangers of the world, and that nothing but the death or inconstancy of monsieur du Plessis could have again involved her in them. These, indeed, were the sole evils she trembled at, and which she chiefly prayed might not befal her. Yet as it often happens that those disasters which seem most remote are nearest to us, so did the disappointments she was ordained to suffer, rise from a quarter she had the least reason to apprehend.

The abbess and nuns, with whom she was, being all Italians, she set herself to attain to the knowledge of their language, in which she soon became a very great proficient, and capable of entertaining them, and being entertained by them in the most agreeable manner.--The sweetness of her temper, as well as her good sense, rendering her always ambitious of acquiring the affection of those she converted with, she had the secret to ingratiate herself not only to the youngest nuns, but also to the elder and most austere, that the one were never pleased but when in her company, and the others propose her as an example of piety and sweetness to the rest.

She had a very pretty genius to poetry, and great skill in music, both which talents she now exercised in such works as suited the place and company she was in.--The hymns and anthems she composed were not only the admiration of that convent, but also of several others to whom they were shown, and she was spoke of as a prodigy of wit and devotion.

In fine, her behavior rendered her extremely dear to the superior; and that affection joined to a spiritual pride, which those sanctified devotees are seldom wholly free from, made her very desirous of retaining her always in the convent:--she was therefore continually preaching up to her the uncertainty of those felicities which are to be found in the world, and magnifying that happy serenity which a total renunciation from it afforded;--nay, sometimes went so far, as to insinuate there was scarce a possibility for any one encumbered with the cares, and surrounded with the temptations of a public life, to have those dispositions which are requisite to enjoy the blessings of futurity.--Ah my dear daughter, would she say frequently to her, how much should I rejoice to find in you a desire to forgo all the transitory fleeting pleasures of the world, and devote yourself entirely to heaven!--what raptures would not your innocent soul partake, when wholly devoid of all thought of sensual objects! you would be, even while on earth, a companion for angels and blessed spirits, and borne on the wings of heavenly contemplation, have your dwelling above, and be worshipped as a saint below.

All the old nuns, and some of the young ones, assisted their abbess in endeavouring to prevail on Louisa to take the veil; but all that they said made no impression on her mind, not but she had more real piety than perhaps some of those who made so great a shew of it, but she was of a different way of thinking; and tho' she knew the world had its temptation, having experienced them in a very great degree, yet she was-convinced within herself, that a person of virtuous principles might be no less innocent out of a cloyster than in one.--She saw also among this sisterhood a great deal of envy to each other, and perceived early that the flaming zeal professed among them was in some hypocrisy, and enthusiasm in others; so that had she had no prepossession in favour of du Plessis, or any engagement with him, the life of a nun was what she never should have made choice of.

She kept her sentiments on this occasion entirely to herself however, and made no shew of any repugnance to do as they would have her; but whenever they became strenuous in their pressures, told them, she doubted not but such a life as they described must be very angelic, but having already disposed of her vows, it was not in her power to withdraw them, nor would heaven accept so violated an offering. This, they told her, was only a suggestion of some evil spirit, and that all engagements to an earthly object, both might and ought to be dispensed with for a divine vocation. The arguments they made use of for this purpose were artful enough to have imposed on some minds, but Louisa had too much penetration not to see thro' them; and being unwilling to disoblige them by shewing that she did so, made use, in her turn, of evasions which the circumstances of the case rendered very excusable. But fully persuaded in their minds that it was solely her engagements with du Plessis that rendered her so refractory to their desires, they resolved to break it off, if possible, and to that end now intercepted his letters; two of which giving an account that he was very much wounded and unable to travel, they renewed their pressures, in order to prevail on her to take the habit before he should be in a condition to come to Bolognia.

These sollicitations, however, had no other effect than to embitter the satisfaction she would otherwise have enjoyed during her stay among them;--the time of which began now to seem tedious, and she impatiently longed for the end of the campaign, which she expected would return her dear du Plessis to her, and she should be removed from a place where dissimulation, a vice she detested, was in a manner necessary. She had received several letters from him before the abbess took it in her head to stop them, each more endearing than the former; and last had flattered her with the hope of seeing him in a very short time.

Days, weeks, and months passed over, after an assurance so pleasing to her wishes, without any confirmation of the repeated vows he had made; and receiving from him no account of the reasons that delayed him, she began to reproach herself for having placed too much confidence in him;--the more time elapsed, the more cause she had to doubt his sincerity, and believe her misfortune real:--in fine, it was near half a year that she languished under a vain expectation of seeing, or at least hearing from him.--Sometimes she imagined a new object had deprived her of his heart; but when she called to mind the many proofs he had given her of the most unparallell'd generosity that ever was she could not think that if he even ceased to love her, he could be capable of leaving her in so cruel a suspence:--no, said she to herself, he would have let me know I had no more to depend on from him:--paper cannot blush, and as he is out of the reach of my upbraidings, he would certainly have acquainted me with my fate, confessed the inconstancy of his sex, and exerted that wit, of which he has sufficient, to have excused his change:--I will not therefore injure a man whom I have found so truly noble:--death, perhaps, his deprived me of him; the unrelenting sword makes no distinction between the worthy and unworthy;--and the brave, the virtuous du Plessis, may have fallen a victim in common with the most vulgar.

These apprehensions had no sooner gained ground in her imagination, than she became the most disconsolate creature in the world. The abbess took advantage of her melancholy, as knowing the occasion of it, and began to represent, in the strongest terms, the instability of all human expectations:--you may easily see, my dear child, said she, that monsieur either no longer lives, or ceases to live for you:--young men are wavering, every new object attracts their wishes;--they are impatient for a time, but soon grow cool;--absence renders them forgetful of their vows and promises;--there is no real dependance on them;--fly therefore to that divine love which never can deceive you;--give yourself up to heaven, and you will soon be enabled to despise the fickle hopes of earth.

Instead of saying any thing to comfort her, in this manner was she continually persecuted; and tho' it is impossible for any one to have less inclination to a monastic life than she had, yet the depression of her spirits, the firm belief she now should never see du Plessis more, the misfortune of her circumstances, joined to the artifices they made use of, and the repeated offers of accepting her without the usual sum paid on such occasions, might possibly at last have prevailed on her.--She was half convinced in her mind that it was the only asylum left to shield her from the wants and insults of the world; and the more she reflected on the changes, the perplexities, and vexation, of different kinds, the few years she yet had lived had presented her with, the more reason she found to acquiesce with the persuasions of the abbess. But heaven would not suffer the deceit practised on her to be crowned with success, and discovered it to her timely enough to prevent her from giving too much way to that despair, which alone could have prevailed with her to yield to their importunities.

There was among the sisterhood a young lady called donna Leonora, who being one of many daughters of a family, more eminent for birth than riches, was compelled, as too many are, to become a nun, in order to prevent her marrying beneath her father's dignity. She had taken a great liking to Louisa from the moment she came into the convent, and a farther acquaintance ripened it into a sincere friendship. Tho' secluded from the world, the austere air of a monastery had no effect upon her, she still retained her former vivacity; and it was only in the conversations these two had toge whenever they could separate from the others, that Louisa found any cordial to revive her now almost sinking spirits.

One day as she was ruminating on her melancholy affairs, this young nun came hastily into her chamber, and with a countenance that, before she spoke, denoted she had something very extraordinary to acquaint her with,--dear sister, cried she, I bring you the most surprising news, but such as will be my ruin if you take the least notice of receiving it from me; and perhaps your own, if you seem to be acquainted with it at all.

It is not to be doubted but Louisa gave her all the assurances she could desire of an inviolable secrecy; after which, know then, resumed this sweet-condition'd lady, that your lover, monsieur du Plessis, is not only living, but as faithful as your soul can wish, or as you once believed:--the cruelty of the abbess, and some of the sisterhood in the plot with her, have concealed the letters he has sent to you, in order to persuade you to become a nun:--I tremble to think of their hypocrisy and deceit:--but what, continued she, is not to be expected from bigotry and enthusiasm!--To increase the number of devotees they scruple nothing, and vainly imagine the means is sanctified by the end.

Little is it in the power of words to express the astonishment Louisa was in to hear her speak in this manner; but as she had no room to doubt her sincerity, only asked by what means she had attained the knowledge of what the persons concerned, no doubt, intended to keep as much a secret as possible; on which the other satisfied her curiosity in these terms:

To confess the truth to you, said she, I stole this afternoon into the chapel, in order to read a little book brought me the other day by one of my friends; as it treated on a subject not allowable in a convent, I thought that the most proper place to entertain myself with it; and was sitting down in one of the confessionals, when hearing the little door open from the gallery, I saw the abbess and sister Clara, who, you know, is her favourite and confidant, come in together, and as soon as they were entered, shut the door after them. I cannot say I had any curiosity to hear their discourse; but fearing to be suspected by them in my amusement, and not knowing what excuse to make for being there, if I were seen, I slid down, and lay close at the bottom of the confessional. They happened to place themselves very near me; and the abbess taking a letter out of her pocket, bad Clara read it, and tell her the substance of it as well as she could. I found it was in French, by some words which she was obliged to repeat over and over, before, not perfectly understanding the language, she could be able to find a proper interpretation of. The abbess, who has a little smattering of it herself, sometimes helped her out, and between them both I soon found it came from monsieur du Plessis, and contained the most tender and compassionate complaint of your unkindness in not answering his letter;--that the symptoms he had of approaching death were not half so severe to him as your refusing him a consolation he stood for much in need of;--that if you found him unworthy of your love, he was certainly so of your compassion; and concluded with the most earnest entreaty, you would suffer him to continue no longer in a suspence more cruel than a thousand deaths could be.

Oh heaven! cried Louisa, bursting into tears, how ungrateful must he think me, and how can I return, as it deserves, so unexampled a constancy, after such seeming proofs of my infidelity!--. Cruel, cruel, treacherous abbess! pursued she; Is this the fruits of all your boasted sanctity!--This the return to the confidence the generous du Plessis reposed in you!--This your love and friendship to me!--Does heaven, to increase the number of its votaries, require you to be false, perfidious, and injurious to the world!

She was proceeding in giving vent to the anguish of her soul in exclamations such as these; but Leonora begged she would moderate her grief, and for her sake, as much as possible, conceal the reasons she had for resentment. Louisa again promised she would do her utmost to keep them from thinking she even suspected they had played her false;--then cried, But tell me, my dear Leonora, were they not a little moved at the tender melancholy which, I perceive, ran thro' this epistle? Alas! my dear, replied the other, they have long since forgot those soft emotions which make us simpathize in the woes of love:--inflexible by the rigid rules of this place, and more by their own age, they rather looked with horror than pity on a tender inclination:--they had a long conversation together, the result of which was to spare nothing that might either persuade, or if that failed, compel you to take the order.

It is not in their power to do the latter, interrupted Louisa; and this discovery of their baseness, more than ever, confirms me in the resolution never to consent.

You know not what is in their power, said Leonora; they may make pretences for confining you here, which, as they are under no jurisdiction but the church, the church will allow justifiable:--indeed, Louisa, continued she, I should be loth to see you have recourse to force to get out of their hands which would only occasion you ill treatment:--to whom, alas, can you complain!--you are a stranger in this country, without any one friend to espouse your cause:--were even Du Plessis here in person, I know not, as they have taken it into their heads to keep you here, if all he could urge, either to the pope or confessory, would have any weight to oblige them to relinquish you. A convent is the securest prison in the world; and whenever any one comes into it, who by any particular endowment promises to be an ornament to the order, cannot, without great difficulty, disentangle themselves from the snares laid for them.--It is for this reason I have feared for you ever since your entrance; for tho' I should rejoice in so agreeable a companion, I know too well the miseries of an enforced attachment to wish you to be partaker of it.

Louisa found too much reason in what she said, to doubt the misery of her condition;--she knew the great power of the church in all these countries where the roman-catholic religion is established, more especially in those places under the papal jurisdiction, and saw no way to avoid what was now more terrible to her than ever. Those reflections threw her into such agonies, that Leonora had much ado to keep her from falling into fits:--she conjured her again and again, never to betray what she had entrusted her with; assuring her, that if it were so much as guessed at, she should be exposed to the worst treatment, and punished as an enemy to the order of which she was a member. Louisa as often assured her that nothing should either tempt or provoke her to abuse that generous friendship she had testified for her; but as she was not able to command her countenance, tho' she could her words, she resolved to pretend herself indisposed and keep her bed, that she might be the less observed, or the change in her should seem rather the effects of ill health than any secret discontent.

It was no sooner mentioned in the convent that she was out of order, than the abbess herself, as well as the whole sisterhood, came to her chamber, and shewed the greatest concern: the tender care they took of her would have made her think herself infinitely obliged to them, and perhaps gone a great way in engaging her continuance among them, had she not been apprized of their falshood in a point so little to be forgiven.

So great an enemy was she to all deceit herself, that it was difficult for her to return the civilities they treated her with, as they might seem to deserve; but whatever omissions she was guilty of in this particular, were imputed to her disposition; and the whole convent continued to be extremely assiduous to recover her.

During the time of her feigned illness, her thoughts were always employed on the means of getting away. Whenever Leonora and she were together, a hundred contrivances were formed, which seemed equally alike impracticable; but at length they hit upon one which had a promising aspect and Louisa, after some scruples, resolved to make trial of. It was this:

As hypocrisy was made use of to detain her, hypocrisy was the only method by which she could hope to get her liberty:--pretending, therefore, to be all at once restored to her former health, she sent to entreat the abbess, and some other of the most zealous of the sisterhood to come into her chamber, where, as soon as they entered, they found her on her knees before the picture of the virgin, and seeming in an extacy of devotion: Yes, holy virgin, cried she, as if too much taken up to see who entered, I will obey your commands;--I will devote myself entirely to thee;--I will follow where thou callest me: thou, who hast restored me, shalt have the first fruits of my strength:--and oh that Lorretto were at a greater distance,--to the utmost extent of land and sea would I go to seek thee!--In uttering these ejaculations she prostrated herself on the floor;--then rising again, as transported in a manner out of herself,--I come,--I come, cried she;--still do I hear thy heavenly voice!

In this fit of enthusiasm did she remain for above half an hour, and so well acted her part, that the abbess, who would not offer to interrupt her, believed it real, and was in little less agitation of spirit than Louisa pretended to be.