‘These Letters were like to have been the Death of my Mother; she could not imagine I could be in Chains at eighteen Years of Age, without shedding a torrent of Tears: But that which augmented her Grief, was, the Disorder of my Father’s Affairs; several considerable Bankrupts had ruined him; his Credit was gone, and it was impossible for him to procure the 20000 Crowns which Meluza demanded for my Ransom.
‘The Generous Marquess de Los Rios heard this News, came to my Father, and offered him what lay in his Power: “I do not do this,” said he, “in design to force your Daughter’s Inclinations when she shall be here; I shall love her always, but I will never displease her.” My Father having no other way of Relief, thankfully accepted of what was offered him; and in a word, embarkt himself, and happily arriv’d at Algiers, in the time when I thought only of dying.
‘He forbore all those Reproaches I deserv’d; he redeem’d me, and at my Intreaty, this young Woman of Seville, for a moderate Ransom. We return’d together, and my Mother receiv’d me with such joy as is impossible to be exprest. I answer’d hereto as much as was possible; but I carried always in my Heart, Madam, the fatal Stroke which had wounded me: Whatever my Reason could represent to me, was not sufficient to Eface out of my Remembrance the Image of the Traitor Mendez.
‘I saw the Marquess de Los Rios: he dared not mention the Inclinations he still had towards me; but I had such pressing Obligations to him, that Gratitude made me do for him, what my Inclinations would have made me do for another.
‘I gave him my Hand, and he his to me, with such Affection, as if he had had no solid Matter of Complaint against me.
‘In fine, I married him, and apprehending lest I should see Mendez, that Ungrateful Wretch, to whom I owe such Horrour, and for whom I had so little, I pray’d the Marquess we might dwell in the Country-house he had near Seville.
‘He ever approv’d of what I liked; he would have my Father and Mother retire; he less’ned the sad Condition of their Fortune, by considerable Liberalities: and I may truly say, there never was a greater Soul. Judge, Madam, of all the Reproaches I made my Heart for its not being so tender to him as it ought to have been: It was not in my power to forget Mendez, and I always felt new Regrets, when I learnt his Felicity with the Unfaithful Henrietta.
‘Having past two Years in a continual watching over myself, that I might do nothing but what was agreeable to my Husband, Heaven depriv’d me of him, of this Generous Husband; and he did for me in these last Moments, what he had already heretofore done, giving me all he had, with such Testimonies of Esteem and Affection, as much enhanced the Price of the Gift: He made me the richest Widow of Andalousia, but he could not make me the Happiest.
‘I would not return to Seville, where my Parents would have had me been; and to avoid it, I pretended a Journey farther into the Country, to look after some part of my Estate. I set out; but there being a particular Fatality in whatever relates to me, in arriving at an Inn, the first Object which struck my sight, was the Unfaithful Mendez: he was in deep Mourning, and had lost nothing of whatever made me heretofore fancy him too Lovely. It is impossible to express the Condition I was in, for endeavouring to get speedily from him, I found myself so weak and trembling, that I fell at his Feet. Although he knew me not that instant, yet he earnestly endeavour’d to raise me up; but the great Veil under which I was conceal’d, flying open, what became of him in seeing me? He remain’d no less confused than I was: he would have drawn near to me, but casting a furious Look on him: “Darest thou, Perjured Wretch!” said I to him, “darest thou approach me! Art thou not afraid of the just Punishment of thy Perfidiousness?” He was some time without answering me, and I was about leaving him when he stopt me: “Confound and overwhelm me with Reproaches, Madam,” said he to me: “Give me the worst and most perfidious Names as is possible; they cannot be more than I deserve: but my Death shall soon revenge your Quarrel: I ought to die with Sorrow for having betray’d you; and if I regret any thing in dying, it is only the having one Life to lose, to expiate all the Crimes you can justly accuse me of.” He appear’d to me much affected in ending these words; and would to Heavens his Repentance were really sufficient and true! I would not hazard a longer Conversation with him: I left him, disdaining to return him an Answer. And this Mark of Contempt and Slighting, was, without doubt, more sensible to him, than all the Reproaches I might have made him.
‘He had some time since lost his Wife, that Unfaithful Creature, who had helpt him to Revolt against all the Offices of Love, Honour, and Gratitude. And from that time he follow’d me every-where: he was like a Complaining Shadow, ever fastened to my Feet; for he became so lean, pale, and chang’d, that he was no longer discernable. Heavens! Madam, what Violence did I not offer myself, in continuing to ill Treat him: I found at last I wanted Strength to resist the Weakness of my Heart, and the Ascendant this Wretch had over me. Rather than to commit so shameful an offence, and to Forgive him, I parted for Madrid, where I have Relations, and sought among them a Shelter against the Violence of mine own Inclinations.