[ Cross-Reference]

[Beginning of Introduction]: Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so romantically and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in The Dutch Lover. Vide Note on the Source of that play, Vol. I, p. 218.

Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of “Source” section for The Dutch Lover:

Mrs. Behn founded the plot of The Dutch Lover upon the stories of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish novel entitled ‘The History of Don Fenise, a new Romance written in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,’ 8vo, 1651.

THE WANDERING BEAUTY.

[ THE WANDERING BEAUTY.]

I was not above twelve Years old, as near as I can remember, when a Lady of my Acquaintance, who was particularly concern’d in many of the Passages, very pleasantly entertain’d me with the Relation of the young Lady Arabella’s Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir Francis Fairname, a Gentleman of a noble Family, and of a very large Estate in the West of England, a true Church-Man, a great Loyalist, and a most discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way inferiour to him in every Circumstance of Virtue. They had only two Children more, and those were of the soft, unhappy Sex too; all very beautiful, especially Arabella, and all very much alike; piously educated, and courtly too, of naturally-virtuous Principles and Inclinations.

’Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir Robert Richland, her Father’s great Friend and inseparable Companion, but superiour to him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty of this young Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like to have been as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical Year of Sixty Three, in which he dy’d, as I am told, though he was then hardly Sixty. However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated in the Summer’s Nacturine. His unseasonable Appetite grew so strong and inordinate, that he was oblig’d to discover it to Sir Francis; who, though he lov’d him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his Daughter’s Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband; especially, when he consider’d the great Disproportion in their Age, which he rightly imagin’d would be very disagreeable to Arabella’s Inclinations: This made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading Arguments in his Capacity, to convince Sir Robert of the Inequality of such a Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Passion increasing each Day more violently, the more assiduously, and with the greater Vehemence, he press’d his Friend to use his Interest and Authority with his Lady and Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural Proposition; offering this as the most weighty and prevailing Argument, (which undoubtedly it was,) That since he was a Batchelor, he would settle his whole Estate upon her, if she surviv’d him, on the Day of Marriage, not desiring one Penny as a Portion with her. This Discourse wrought so powerfully with her Mother, that she promis’d the old Lover all the Assistance he could hope or expect from her: In order to which, the next Day she acquainted her fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage she was like to have, if she would but consent to lye by the Parchment that convey’d them to her. The dear, fair Creature, was so surpriz’d at this Overture made by her Mother, that her Roses turn’d all into Lillies, and she had like to have swoon’d away; but having a greater Command of her Passions than usually our Sex have, and chiefly Persons of her Age, she, after some little Disorder, which by no Means she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a Return to her Mother’s Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit; and, for that Time, got Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the Misfortune which she partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas) was no Cure of her Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly attack’d by her Father and Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest and Duty could urge, which she endeavour’d to obviate by all the Arguments that Nature and Inclination could offer; but she found them all in vain, since they continu’d their ungrateful Solicitations for several Days together, at the End of which, they both absolutely commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir Robert; so that finding her self under a Necessity of complying, or at least of seeming so, she made ’em hope, that her Duty had overcome her Aversion; upon which she had a whole Week’s Liberty to walk where she would, unattended, or with what Company she pleas’d, and to make Visits to whom she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance thereabouts; tho’ for three or four Days before, she was strictly confin’d to her Chamber.

After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time, she propos’d to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of hers, who liv’d about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before discours’d very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality Sir Robert should keep when she was marry’d to him: All which was highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and kissing her for it, which she return’d to ’em both with a Shower of Tears. This did not a little surprize ’em at first, but asking her what could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the late Subject? She answer’d, ‘That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.’ This affectionate Reply did amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of ’em, after having desir’d that they would not be uneasy if she should not return ’till a little before ’twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her, considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs, especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when they had walk’d with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their own.

Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and Mother had left her, unless when they had press’d her to a Marriage with the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e’re she took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu’d ’till past eight at Night, having walk’d ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir Francis and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife, who had one only Child, a Daughter, about the Lady Arabella’s Age and Stature. ’Twas happy for her she got thither before they were a Bed; for her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be tir’d, and her tender Feet to be gall’d. To the good Woman of the House she applies her self, desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering her any reasonable Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her, had Compassion of her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her, that she might lye with her Daughter, if she pleas’d, who was very cleanly, tho’ not very vine. The good Man of the House came in soon after, was very well pleas’d with his new Guest; so to Supper they went very seasonably; for the poor young Lady, who was e’en ready to faint with Thirst, and not overcharg’d with what she had eaten the Day before. After Supper they ask’d her whence she came, and how she durst venture to travel alone, and a Foot? To which she reply’d, That she came from a Relation who liv’d at Exeter, with whom she had stay’d ’till she found she was burthensome: That she was of Welsh Parents, and of a good Family; but her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with whom she could by no Means continue, especially since she would have forc’d her to marry an old Man, whom it was impossible she should love, tho’ he was very rich: That she was now going to seek her Fortune in London, where she hop’d, at least, to get her a good Service. They all seem’d to pity her very heartily; and, in a little Time after, they went to their two several Apartments, in one of which Arabella and the Damsel of the House went to Bed, where the young Lady slept soundly, notwith­standing the Hardness of her Lodging. In the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable Custom, the young hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which waken’d Arabella, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge, proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so well pleas’d, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady confirm’d it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be made on even Hands. ‘If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother) you shall e’en have her Sunday-Cloaths.’ ‘Agreed (return’d Arabella) but we must change Shifts too; I have now a Couple about me, new and clean, I do assure you: For my Hoods and Head-dress you shall give me [two Pinners], and her best Straw-Hat; and for my Shoes, which I have not worn above a Week, I will have her Holliday Shoes.’ ‘A Match, indeed, young Mistress,’ cry’d the good Wife. So without more Ceremony, the young unhappy Lady was attir’d in her Bedfellow’s Country Weeds, by Help of the Mother and Daughter. Then, after she had taken her Leave of the good old Man too, she put a broad round Shilling into his Wife’s Hand, as a Reward for her Supper and Lodging, which she would fain have return’d, but t’other would not receive it. ‘Nay, then, by the Mackins, (said her Hostess) you shall take a Breakfast e’re you go, and a Dinner along with you, for Fear you should be sick by the Way.’ Arabella stay’d to eat a Mess of warm Milk, and took some of their Yesterday’s Provision with her in a little course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the direct Road to London, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her last Farewel of them.