Melliora thought she had done a very Heroick Action, and sate her self down on the Bed-side in a pleas’d Contemplation of the Conquest, she believ’d her Virtue had gain’d over her Passion: But alas, How little did she know the true State of her own Heart? She no sooner heard a little noise at the Door, as presently after she did, but she thought it was the Count, and began to tremble not with fear, but desire.
It was indeed Count D’elmont, who had borrow’d Horses and a Servant of the Baron, and got into the Garden as before, but with a much greater Assurance now of making himself entirely happy in the Gratification of his utmost Wishes. But ’tis impossible to represent the greatness of his vexation and surprize, when all his Efforts to open the Door, were in vain: He found something had been done to the Lock, but cou’d not discover what, nor by any means remove the obstacle which Melliora had put there. She, on the other hand, was in all the confusion imaginable: Sometimes prompted by the violence of her Passion, she wou’d run to the Door, resolving to open it; and then, frighted with the apprehension of what wou’d be the Consequence, as hastily fly from it: If he had stay’d much longer, ’tis possible love wou’d have got the better of all other Considerations, but a light appearing on the other side of the Garden, oblig’d the thrice disappointed Lover, to quit his Post. He had sent away the Horses by the Servant who came with him, and had no opportunity of going to the Barons that Night, so came to his own Fore-gate, and thunder’d with a force, suitable to the fury he was possest with; it was presently open’d, most of the Family being up. Alovisa had rav’d her self into Fits, and her disorder created full Employment for the Servants, who busily running about the House with Candles fetching things for her, occasion’d that reflection which he had seen.
The Count was told of his Lady’s Indisposition, but he thought he had sufficient pretence not to come where she was, after the Message she had sent him by the Baron’s Servant, and order’d a Bed to be made ready for him in another Chamber.
Alovisa soon heard he was come in, and it was with much ado, that her Women prevail’d on her not to rise and go to him that moment, so little did she remember what she had said. She pass’d the Night in most terrible Inquietudes, and early in the Morning went to his Chamber, but finding it shut, she was oblig’d to wait, tho’ with a World of impatience, ’till she heard he was stirring, which not being till towards Noon, she spent all that Time in considering how she shou’d accost him.
As soon as the Servant whom she had order’d to watch, brought her Word that his Lord was dressing, she went into the Room, there was no body with him but his Gentleman, and he withdrawing out of respect, imagining by both their Countenances, there might something be said, not proper for him to hear. I see (said she) my Presence is unwish’d, but I have learn’d from you to scorn Constraint, and as you openly avow your falshood, I shall my Indignation, and my just Disdain! Madam (answer’d he suddenly) if you have any thing to reproach me with, you cou’d not have chose a more unlucky Time for it, than this, nor was I ever less dispos’d to give you Satisfaction. No, barbarous cold Insulter! (resum’d she) I had not the least hope you wou’d, I find that I am grown so low in your Esteem, I am not worth pains of an Invention.----By Heaven, this damn’d indifference is worse than the most vile Abuse!---’Tis plain Contempt!----O that I cou’d resent it as I ought----then Sword, or Poison shou’d revenge me---why am I so Curst to Love you still?---O that those Fiends (continu’d she, bursting into Tears) that have deform’d thy Soul, wou’d change thy Person too, turn every Charm to horrid Blackness, grim as thy Cruelty, and foul as thy Ingratitude, to free that Heart, thy Perjury has ruin’d. I thought Madam (said he, with an Accent maliciously Ironical) that you had thrown off, even the appearances of Love for me, by the Message you sent me Yesterday---O thou Tormenter (interrupted she) hast thou not wrong’d me in the tenderest Point, driven me to the last Degree of Misery! To Madness!---To Despair? And dost thou----can’st thou Reproach me for complaining?---Your coldness; your unkindness stung me to the Soul, and then I said, I know not what---but I remember well, that I wou’d have seem’d careless, and indifferent like you. You need not (reply’d he) give your self the trouble of an Apology, I have no design to make a quarrel of it: And wish, for both our Peace, you cou’d as easily moderate your Passions, as I can mine, and that you may the better do so, I leave you to reflect on what I have said, and the little Reason I have ever given you for such intemperance. He left the Chamber with these Words, which instead of quelling, more enflam’d Alovysa’s Rage. She threw her self down into an Elbow Chair that stood there, and gave a loose to the Tempest of her Soul, Sometimes she curst, and vow’d the bitterest Revenge: Sometimes she wept, and at others, was resolv’d to fly to Death, the only Remedy for neglected Love: In the midst of these confus’d Meditations, casting her Eye on a Table by her, she saw Paper, and something written on it, which hastily taking up, found it the Count’s Character, and read (to her inexpressible Torment) these Lines.
The Dispairing D’elmont to his Repenting Charmer.
What Cruel Star last Night, had Influence over my Inhumane Dear? Say, to what Cause must I ascribe my Fatal Disappointment? For I wou’d fain believe I owe it not to Thee!----Such an Action, after what thou hast confest, I cou’d expect from nothing but a Creature of Melantha’s Temper---no, ’tis too much of the vain Coquet, and indeed too much of the Jilt, for my Adorable to be guilty of--and yet---Oh how shall I excuse thee? when every thing was hush’d, Darkness my Friend, and all my Wishes rais’d, when every Nerve trembled with fierce Desires, and my Pulse beat a call to Love, or Death,----(For if I not enjoy thee, that will soon arrive) then, then what, but thy self, forgetting all thy Vows, thy tender Vows of the most Ardent Passion, cou’d have destroyed my Hopes?---Oh where was then that Love which lately flatter’d my fond doating Soul, when sinking, dying in my Arms, my Charmer lay! And suffer’d me to reap each Prologue favour to the greatest Bliss----But they are past, and rigid Honour stands to Guard those joys, which----
There was no more written, but there needed no more to make Alovysa, before half distracted, now quite so. She was now convinc’d that she had a much more dangerous Rival than Melantha, and her Curiosity who it might be, was not much less troublesome to her than other Passions.
She was going to seek her Husband with this Testimony of his Infidelity in her Hand, when he, remembring he had left it there, was coming hastily back to fetch it. The Excess of Fury which she met him with, is hardly to be imagin’d, she upbraided him in such a Fashion as might be called reviling, and had so little regard to good Manners, or even decency in what she said, that it dissipated all the confusion he was in at first, to see so plain a Proof against him in her Hands, and rouz’d him to a rage not much Inferior to her’s. She endeavour’d (tho’ she took a wrong Method) to bring him to a Confession, he had done amiss; and he, to lay the Tempest of her Tongue, by storming louder, but neither succeeded in their wish: And he, stung with the bitterness of her Reproaches, and tired with Clamour, at last flung from her with a solemn Vow never to eat, or Sleep with her more.