As no Woman that is Mistress of a great share of Wit, will be a Coquet, so no Woman that has not a little, can be one: Melantha, tho’ frighted to Death with these unexpected Occurrences, feign’d a Courage, which she had not in reality, and thrusting her Head a little above the Cloaths, Bless me Brother (said she) I vow I do not know what you mean by all this Bustle, neither am I guilty of any Crime: I was vex’d indeed to be made a Property of, and chang’d Beds with Melliora for a little innocent Revenge; for I always design’d to discover my self to the Count, time enough to prevent Mischief. The Baron was not so silly as to believe what she said, tho’ the Count, as much as he hated her, had too much Generosity to contradict her, and keeping still hold of the Baron, come D’Espernay, (said he) I believe your Sisters Stars and mine, have from our Birth been at Variance, for this is the third Disappointment she has given me; once in Melliora’s Chamber, then in the Wilderness, and now here; but I forgive her, therefore let us retire and leave her to her Repose. The Baron was sensible that all the Rage in the World could not recall what had been done, and only giving her a furious Look, went with the Count out of the Room, without saying any thing more to her at that Time.
The Baron with much Entreating, at last prevail’d on Count D’elmont to go into his Bed, where he accompany’d him; but they were both of them too full of troubled Meditations, to Sleep: His Sister’s Indiscretion vex’d the Baron to the Heart, and took away great part of the Joy, for the fresh Occasion the Count had given Alovisa to withdraw her Affection from him. But with what Words can the various Passions that agitated the Soul of D’elmont be described? The Transports he had enjoy’d in an imaginary Felicity, were now turn’d to so many real Horrors; he saw himself expos’d to all the World, for it would have been Vanity to the last Degree, to believe this Adventure would be kept a Secret, but what gave him the most bitter Reflection, was, that Melliora when she should know it, as he could not doubt but she immediately wou’d be told it by Alovisa, wou’d judge of it by the Appearance, and believe him, at once, the most vicious, and most false of Men. As for his Wife, he thought not of her, with any Compassion for his Sufferings, but with Rage and Hate, for that jealous Curiosity, which he suppos’d had led her to watch his Actions that Night; (for he had not the least Suspicion of the Baron.) Melantha he always despised, but now detested, for the Trick she had put upon him; yet thought it would be not only unmanly, but barbarous to let her know he did so: It was in vain for him to endeavour to come to a Determination after what manner he should behave himself to any of them, and when the Night was past, in forming a thousand several Resolutions, the Morning found him as much to seek as before: He took his Leave early of the Baron, not being willing to see any of the Company after what had happened, ’till he was more Compos’d.
He was not deceiv’d in his Conjectures concerning Melliora, for Alovisa was no sooner recover’d from her Swoon, than, she, with bitter Exclamations, told her what had been the Occasion, and put that astonish’d Fair one into such a visible Disorder, as had she not been too full of Misery, to take Notice of it, had made her easily perceive that she was deeply interested in the Story: But whatever she said against the Count, as she could not forbear something, calling him Ungrateful, Perjur’d, Deceitful, and Inconstant, Alovisa took only, as a Proof of Friendship to her self, and the Effects of that just Indignation all Women ought to feel for him, that takes a Pride in Injuring any one of them.
When the Count was gone, the Baron sent to Alovisa to enquire of her Health, and if he might have leave to visit her in her Chamber, and being told she desired he shou’d, resolv’d now to make his Demand. Melliora had but just parted from her, in order to get herself ready to go Home, and she was alone when he came in. As soon as the first Civilities were over, she began afresh to conjure him to let her know the Name of her Rival, which he artfully evading, tho’ not absolutely denying, made her almost distracted; the Baron carefully observ’d her every Look and Motion, and when he found her Impatience was rais’d to the highest degree; Madam (said he, taking her by the Hand, and looking tenderly on her) you cannot blame a Wretch who has lavish’d all he had away to one poor Jewel, to make the most he can of that, to supply his future Wants: I have already forfeited all pretence to Honour, and even common Hospitality, by betraying the Trust that was repos’d in me, and exposing under my own Roof, the Man who takes me for his dearest Friend, and what else I have suffer’d from that unavoidable Impulse which compell’d me to do all this, your self may judge, who too well know, the Pangs and Tortures of neglected Love---Therefore, (continued he with a deep Sigh) since this last reserve is all my Hopes dependance, do not, Oh Charming Alovisa, think me Mercinary, if I presume to set a Price upon it, which I confess too high, yet nothing less can Purchase: No Price (reply’d Alovisa, who thought a little Condescension was necessary to win him to her purpose) can be too dear to buy my Peace, nor Recompence too great for such a Service: What, not your Love, said the Baron, eagerly kissing her Hand? No (resum’d she, forcing herself to look kindly on him) not even that, when such a Proof of yours engages it; but do not keep me longer on the Rack, give me the Name and then.---She spoke these last Words with such an Air of Languishment, that the Baron thought his Work was done, and growing bolder, from her Hand he proceeded to her Lips, and answer’d her only in Kisses, which distastful as they were to her, she suffer’d him to take, without Resistance, but that was not all he wanted, and believing this the Critical Minute, he threw his Arms about her Waist, and began to draw her by little and little toward the Bed; which she affected to permit with a kind of an unwilling Willingness; saying, Well, if you wou’d have me able to deny you nothing you can ask, tell me the Name I so much wish to know: But the Baron was as cunning as she, and seeing thro’ her Artifice, was resolv’d to make sure of his Reward first: Yes, yes, my adorable Alovisa (answer’d he, having brought her now very near the Bed) you shall immediately know all, thy Charms will force the Secret from my Breast, close as it is lodg’d within my inmost Soul.---Dying with Rapture I will tell thee all.---If that a Thought of this injurious Husband, can interpose amidst Extatick Joys. What will not some Women venture, to satisfy a jealous Curiosity? Alovisa had feign’d to consent to his Desires, (in hopes to engage him to a Discovery) so far, and had given him so many Liberties, that now, it was as much as she cou’d do to save herself, from the utmost Violence, and perceiving she had been outwitted, and that nothing but the really yielding up her Honour, cou’d oblige him to reveal what she desired. Villain, said she, (struggling to get loose from his Embrace) dare thy base Soul believe so vilely of me? Release me from thy detested Hold, or my Cries shall force thee to it, and proclaim thee what thou art, a Monster! The Baron was not enough deluded by her pretence of Kindness, to be much surpriz’d at this sudden turn of her Behaviour, and only cooly answer’d, Madam, I have no design of using Violence, but perceive, if I had depended on your Gratitude, I had been miserably deceiv’d. Yes (said she, looking contemptibly on him) I own thou would’st; for whatsoever I might say, or thou could’st hope, I love my Husband still, with an unbated Fondness, doat upon him! Faithless and Cruel as he is, he still is lovely! His Eyes lose nothing of their brightness, nor his Tongue its softness! His very Frowns have more Attraction in them than any others Smiles! and canst thou think! Thou, so different in all from him, that thou seemest not the same Species of Humanity, nor ought’st to stile thy self a Man since he is no more: Canst thou, I say, believe a Woman, bless’d as Alovisa has been, can e’er blot out the dear Remembrance, and quit her Hopes of re-gain’d Paradise in his Embrace, for certain Hell in Thine? She spoke these Words with so much Scorn, that the Baron skill’d as he was in every Art to tempt, cou’d not conceal the Spite he conceiv’d at them, and letting go her Hand, (which perforce he had held) I leave you Madam (said he) to the Pleasure of enjoying your own Humour; neither that, nor your Circumstances are to be envy’d, but I’d have you to remember, that you are your own Tormentor, while you refuse the only means can bring you Ease. I will have Ease another way (said she, incens’d at the Indignity she imagin’d he treated her with) and if you still persist in refusing to discover to me the Person who has injur’d me, I shall make no difficulty of letting the Count know how much of his Secrets you have imparted, and for what Reason you conceal the other: You may do so (answer’d he) and I doubt not but you will---Mischief is the darling Favourite of Woman! Blood is the Satisfaction perhaps, that you require, and if I fall by him, or he by me, your Revenge will have its aim, either on the Unloving or the Unlov’d; for me, I set my Life at nought, without your Love ’tis Hell; but do not think that even dying, to purchase Absolution, I’d reveal one Letter of that Name, you so much wish to hear, the Secret shall be buried with me.----Yes, Madam (continued he, with a malicious Air) that happy Fair unknown, whose Charms have made you wretched, shall undiscover’d, and unguess’d at, Triumph in those Joys you think none but your Count can give. Alovisa had not an Opportunity to make any Answer to what he said; Melliora came that Moment into the Room, and ask’d if she was ready to go, and Alovisa saying that she was, they both departed from the Baron’s House, without much Ceremony on either side.
Alovisa had not been long at home before a Messenger came to acquaint her, that her Sister having miss’d of her at Paris, was now on her Journey to Le Beausse, and wou’d be with her in a few Hours: She rejoyc’d as much at this News, as it was possible for one so full of disquiet to do, and order’d her Chariot and Six to be made ready again, and went to meet her.
D’elmont heard of Ansellina’s coming almost as soon as Alovisa, and his Complaisance for Ladies, join’d with the extream desire he had of seeing his Brother, whom he believ’d was with her, wou’d certainly have given him Wings to have flown to them with all imaginable Speed, had not the late Quarrel between him and his Wife, made him think it was improper to join Company with her on any Account whatever: He was sitting in his Dressing-Room Window in a melancholly and disturb’d Meditation, ruminating on every Circumstance of his last Nights Adventure, when he perceiv’d a couple of Horsemen come galloping over the Plain, and make directly toward his House. The Dust they made, kept him from distinguishing who they were, and they were very near the Gate before he discover’d them to be the Chevalier Brillian, and his Servant: The Surprize he was in to see him without Ansellina was very great, but much more so, when running down, as soon as he saw he was alighted, and opening his Arms eagerly to Embrace him; the other drawing back, No, my Lord (said he) since you are pleas’d to forget I am your Brother, I pretend no other way to merit your Embraces: Nor can think it any Happiness to hold him in my Arms, who keeps me distant from his Heart. What mean you (cry’d D’elmont, extreamly astonish’d at his Behaviour) you know so little (resum’d the Chevalier) of the power of Love, your self, that perhaps, you think I ought not to resent what you having done to ruin me in mine: But, however Sir, Ambition is a Passion which you are not a Stranger to, and have settled your own Fortune according to your Wish, methinks you shou’d not wonder that I take it ill, when you endeavour to prevent my doing so to: The Count was perfectly Confounded at these Words, and looking earnestly on him; Brother (said he) you seem to lay a heavy Accusation on me, but if you still retain so much of that former Affection which was between us, as to desire I shou’d be clear’d in your Esteem, you must be more plain in your Charge, for tho’ I easily perceive that I am wrong’d, I cannot see by what means I am so. My Lord, you are not wrong’d (cry’d the Chevalier hastily) you know you are not: If my Tongue were silent, the despair that sits upon my Brow, my alter’d Looks, and grief-sunk Eyes, wou’d proclaim your Barbarous---most unnatural Usage of me. Ungrateful Brillian (said the Count, at once inflam’d with Tenderness and Anger) is this the Consolation I expected from your Presence? I know not for what Cause I am upbraided, being Innocent of any, nor what your Troubles are, but I am sure my own are such, as needed not this Weight to overwhelm me. He spoke this so feelingly, and concluded with so deep a sigh as most sensibly touch’d the Heart of Brillian. If I cou’d believe that you had any (reply’d he) it were enough to sink me quite, and rid me of a Life which Ansellina’s loss has made me hate. What said you, (interrupted the Count) Ansellina’s loss? If that be true, I pardon all the wildness of your unjust Reproaches, for well I know, despair has small regard to Reason, but quickly speak the Cause of your Misfortune:---I was about to enquire the Reason that I saw you not together, when your unkind Behaviour drove it from my Thoughts. That Question (answer’d the Chevalier) ask’d by you some Days since, wou’d have put me past all the Remains of Patience, but I begin to hope I am not so unhappy as I thought, but still am blest in Friendship, tho’ undone in Love----but I’ll not keep you longer in suspence, my Tale of Grief is short in the Repeating, tho’ everlasting in its Consequence. In saying this, he sat down, and the Count doing the like, and assuring him of Attention, he began his Relation in this manner.
Your Lordship may remember that I gave you an Account by Letter, of Ansellina’s Indisposition, and the Fears I was in for her; but by the time I receiv’d your Answer, I thought my self the happiest of Mankind: She was perfectly recover’d, and every Day I receiv’d new Proofs of her Affection: We began to talk now of coming to Paris, and she seem’d no less Impatient for that Journey than my self, and one Evening, the last I ever had the Honour of her Conversation; she told me, that in spite of the Physicians Caution, she wou’d leave Amiens in three or four Days; You may be sure I did not disswade her from that Resolution; but, how great was my Astonishment, when going the next Morning to the Baronesses, to give the Ladies the Bonjour, as I constantly did every Morning, I perceiv’d an unusual coldness in the Face of every one in the Family; the Baroness herself spoke not to me, but to tell me that Ansellina wou’d see no Company: How, Madam, said I, am I not excepted from those general Orders, what can this sudden alteration in my Fortune mean? I suppose (reply’d she) that Ansellina has her Reasons for what she does: I said all that despair cou’d suggest, to oblige her to give me some light into this Mistery, but all was in vain, she either made me no Answers, or such as were not Satisfactory, and growing weary with being Importun’d, she abruptly went out of the Room, and left me in a confusion not to be Express’d: I renew’d my visit the next Day, and was then deny’d admittance by the Porter: The same, the following one, and as Servants commonly form their Behaviour, according to that of those they serve, it was easy for me to observe I was far from being a welcome Guest: I writ to Ansellina, but had my Letter return’d unopen’d: And that Scorn so unjustly thrown upon me, tho’ it did not absolutely cure my Passion, yet it stirr’d up so much just Resentment in me, that it abated very much of its Tenderness: About a Fortnight I remain’d in this perplexity, and at the end of it was plung’d into a greater, when I receiv’d a little Billet from Ansellina, which as I remember, contain’d these Words.
Ansellina to the Chevalier Brillian.