The signior of Caranna being otherwise engaged one night, when a celebrated piece was to be performed, he lent his key to Natura, unknowing that his wife, who had also one, had made a compliment of her's to a young lady of her acquaintance.
Natura by some accident being delayed from going till after the opera began, on entering was surprized to find a very beautiful young person there, stretched on the sopha: — as he had been told the box would be intirely empty, he knew not whether he ought to retire or go forward and seat himself by her: — this consideration kept him some minutes in the posture he was in, and perceiving she was too much taken up with the music, either to have heard him open the door, or see him after he came in, he had the opportunity of feasting his eyes, with gazing on the thousand charms she was mistress of; all which were displayed to a great advantage by the shadowy light which gleamed from the stage thro' a thin crimson taffety curtain, which she had drawn before her, to the end she might neither be seen by others, nor see any thing herself which might take off her attention from the music.
In fine, he drew near, and had placed himself close by her before she observed him; but no sooner did so, than she started, and appeared in some confusion: he made a handsome apology for the intrusion, which he assured her, with a great deal of truth, was wholly owing to chance, and said he would withdraw, if his presence would be any interruption to the pleasure she proposed: — she seemed obliged to him for the offer, but told him she would not abuse the proof he gave of his complaisance by accepting it; on which he bowed, and continued in his place.
Both the music, and the words, seemed intended to lull the soul into a forgetfulness of all beside, and fill it only with soft ideas: — it had at least this effect upon the lady, who had closed her eyes, and was in reality lost to every other sense than that of hearing. — Natura, either was, or pretended to be, equally transported, and sunk insensibly upon her bosom, without any opposition on her part: — she had possibly even forgot she was not alone, and when an air full of the most inchanting tenderness was singing, was so much dissolved in extasy, that crying out, “O God, 'tis insupportable!” she threw her arms over Natura's neck, who was still in the same posture I just mentioned; — he spoke not a word, but was not so absorbed in the gratification of one faculty, as to let slip the gratification of the others: — he seized the lucky moment; — he pressed her close, and in this trance of thought, this total absence of mind, stole himself, as it were, into the possession of a bliss, which the assiduity of whole years would perhaps never have been able to obtain.
Reason and thought at last returned; she opened her eyes, she knew to what the rapture she had been in had exposed her, and was struck with the most poignant shame and horror: — she broke with all her force from that strict embrace in which he had continued to hold her; and being withdrawn to the farther corner of the closet, — “What have I done,” cried she, “What have I done!” — these words she repeated several times, and accompanied them with tears, wringing her hands, and every testimony of remorse. — It was in vain for him to attempt to pacify her, much less to prevail on her to suffer any second proofs of his tenderness; — she would not even give him leave to touch her hand, and on his offering it, pushed him back, saying, “No, stranger! you have taken the advantage of my insensibility but shall never triumph over my reason, which enables me to hate you, — to fly from you for ever, as from a serpent.”
Natura said every thing that love and wit could inspire, to reconcile her to what had past; but she remained inflexible, and only condescended to request him to leave the place before the opera was ended, that they might not be seen coming out together, and that he would tell signior Carrana, that having unexpectedly found a lady in the box, he had withdrawn without entering. — He then begged she would entertain a more favourable opinion of an action, which her beauty, the bewitching softness of the entertainment, and the place they were in, had all concurred to make him guilty of; but she would listen to nothing on that head, insisted on his never taking the least notice of her, wherever they might chance to meet; and only told him, that tho' she was unalterably fixed in this resolution, yet he might depend upon it she hated him less than she did herself.
Finding she was not to be moved, he obeyed her commands, and straight went out of the box, more amazed at the oddness of the adventure, than can be well expressed; and yet more so, when he afterwards heard she was the wife of a person of great condition, was in the first month of her marriage with him, and had the reputation of a woman of strict virtue.
As this false step was meerly accidental, wholly unpremeditated on either side, and by what can be judged by the character of the lady, and her behaviour afterwards, was no more on her part than a surprize on the senses, in which the mind was not consulted, and had not the least share, I know not whether it may not more justly be called a slip of unguarded nature, than a real crime in her; and as for Natura, though certainly the most guilty of the two, whoever considers his youth, his constitution, and above all the greatness of the temptation, which presented itself before him, will allow, that he must either have been more, or less, than man, to have behaved otherwise than he did.
Let the most severely virtuous, who happily have never fallen into the same error, but figure to themselves the circumstances of this transgressing pair, and well consider in what manner nature must operate, when thus powerfully excited, and if they are not rendered totally incapable of any soft sensations, by an uncommon frigidity of constitution, they will cease either to wonder at, or too cruelly condemn, the effects of so irresistible an impulse.
Were it not for the precepts of religion and morality, the fears of scandal, and shame of offending against law and custom, man would undoubtedly think himself intitled to the same privileges which the brute creation in this point enjoy above him; and it is not therefore strange, that whenever reason nods, as it sometimes will do, even in those who are most careful to preserve themselves under its subjection, that the senses ever craving, ever impatient for gratification, should readily snatch the opportunity of indulging themselves, and which it is observable they ordinarily do to the greater excess, by so much the longer, and the more strictly they have been kept under restraint.