Part 13
Yet if you vouchsafe me that, replied he, kissing her hard, I never shall complain. Me! interrupted she, pretending the utmost astonishment, and drawing her chair somewhat farther from him. Yes, beautiful Louisa, resumed he; it is you alone who have been capable of teaching me what love truly is:--your eyes, at first sight, subdued my heart; but your virtue has since made a conquest of my soul:--if I dare hope to make you mine, it is only by such ways as heaven, and those who have the power of disposing you, shall approve:--in the mean time I implore no more than your permission to admire you, and to convince you, by all the honourable services in my power to do you while you continue here, how much my words are deficient to denote my meaning.
Louisa, now finding herself under a necessity of answering seriously, told him, that if it were true that he had sentiments for her of the nature he pretended, they would not only merit, but receive the most grateful acknowledgments on her part; but at the same time she should be sorry he had entertained them, and would wish him not to indulge a prospect which could last no longer than while both remained in Venice, and must infallibly vanish on their separation.
No, madam, replied he, when the next campaign is over, I shall return to France; and sure the distance between that kingdom and England is not so great, but a less motive than yourself would easily carry me thither; and such credentials also of who, and what I am, as, I flatter myself, would not appear contemptible in the eyes of your friends:--the prospect therefore is not so visionary as you seem to think, provided I have your consent.
The mention he made of her friends reminding her of her destitute condition, gave her the utmost shock; which not being able to overcome, she remained silent some moments; but at last perceiving he waited her reply, monsieur, said she, there may be a thousand indissoluble bars between us which you do not think of.
None, interrupted he eagerly, but what such love as mine will easily surmount:--it is true, I am ignorant of your condition in the world; but if it be superior to mine, the passion I am possessed of will inspire me with means to raise me to an equality; and if inferior, which heaven grant may be the case, it will only give the opportunity of proving that I love Louisa for Louisa's self, and look upon every thing she brings beside as nothing.
The emphasis he gave these words manifesting their sincerity, could not but give new charms to the person who spoke them: Louisa thought she might, without a blush, testify the sense she had of his generosity; but tho' what she said was perfectly obliging to him, yet she concluded with letting him know, there still was something that rendered the accomplishment of what he seemed to wish impossible.
Then your heart already is engaged, cried he, or you are predestined by your parents to some happier man? Without either of these, answered she, there may be reasons to prevent our ever meeting more;--therefore I owe so much to the honourable offers you are pleased to make me, as to wish you to overcome whatever inclinations you may have for one who I once more assure you never can be yours.
It would be impossible to express the distraction monsieur du Plessis testified at this expression:--a thousand times over did he repeat that dreadful word NEVER;--then added, neither engaged by love or promise, yet never can be mine! does my ill fate come wrap'd to me in riddles!--yet many things have seemed impossible that are not so in themselves:--O Louisa! continued he, if there be any thing beside my want of merit that impedes my wishes, and you delight not in my torment, speak it I conjure you.
There is a necessity of denying you in this also, said Louisa; but to shew you how little I am inclined to be ungrateful, be certain that I have the highest idea of your merits, and prize them as much as I ought to do.
These last words, obliging as they were, could not console monsieur du Plessis for the cruelty, as he termed it, of refusing to let him know what this invincible obstacle was which put a stop to any further correspondence between them: he spared neither prayers nor tears to draw the secret from her, but all were ineffectual; and she at last told him, that if he pressed her any farther on that head, she must for the future avoid his presence.
This was a menace which he had not courage to dare the execution of, and he promised to conform to her will, tho' with such agonies, as shewed her how much he valued even the little she was pleased to grant; but it was not in the power of her perswasions to prevail on him to resolve to make any efforts for the vanquishing his passion; he still protested that he neither could cease to love her, and her alone, nor even to wish an alteration in his sentiments.
By what has been already said of the extreme liking which the first fight of this young gentleman inspired Louisa with, it may easily be supposed she could not hear his complaints, and be witness of the anxieties she was enforced to inflict on him, without feeling at least an equal share: she endeavoured not to conceal the pity she had for him; but he now found that was far from being all he wanted, because it forwarded not, as he at first imagined, the progress of his hopes, but rather shewed them at more distance than ever.
The business of his love so engrossed his thoughts during this visit, that he almost forgot to mention any thing of the count's designs upon her, and she as little remembered to remind him of it, tho' he told her on his entrance, that he had something to acquaint her with on his subject, and it was not till he was going to take leave that it came into his head. When he had related it to her, she assured him that she took the caution he gave her as a new proof of his friendship, which, said she, I shall always prize. At parting, she permitted him to salute her, and gave her promise not to refuse seeing him while they continued in that city; but told him at the same time, that he must not expect any thing from his repeated visits more than she had already granted.
He durst not at that time press her any farther, but fetched a deep sigh as he went out of the room, accompanied with a look more expressive than any words could be of the discontent he laboured under, while she, oppressed beneath the double weight of his and her own grief, remained in a condition he was little able to form any conjecture of.
Pleased as she was with the presence of the only man who had ever had power of inspiring her with one tender thought, yet a thousand times she had wished him gone before he went, that she might be at liberty to give vent to the struggling passions which were more than once ready to throw her into a swoon. The perfections she saw in the person of her lover;--the respect he treated her with, notwithstanding the violence of the passion he was possessed of;--the sincerity that appeared in all his looks and words;--the generosity of his behaviour in regard to her fortune;--all the qualifications that would have made any other woman blessed in the offer of such a heart, served but to make her wretched, since she could not look on herself in a condition capable of accepting it.
Alas! du Plessis, cried she, little do you think to whom you would ally yourself:--you would, you say, despise a portion, but would you marry a foundling, a child of charity, one that has neither name nor friends, and who, in her best circumstances, is but a poor dependant, a servant in effect, tho' not in shew, and owes her very cloaths to the bounty of another?--Oh! why did the mistaken goodness of Dorilaus give me any other education than such as befitted my wretched fortune! Better I had been bred an humble drudge, and never been taught how to distinguish merit:--What avail the accomplishments that cost him so much money, and me so much pains to acquire, but to attract a short-liv'd admiration, which, when I am truly known, will be succeeded with an adequate derision:--Could I but say I was descended from honest, tho' mean parents, I would not murmur at my fate, but I have none,--none to own me;--I am a nothing,--a kind of reptile in humanity, and have been shewn in a genteel way of life only to make my native misery more conspicuous.
Thus did love represent her unhappy circumstances in their worst colours, and render her, which till now she had never been, thankless to heaven for all the good she had received, since it seemed to deny her the only good her passion coveted, that of being in a condition to reward the affection of her dear du Plessis.
A torrent of tears at length somewhat mitigated the violence of her passion, and unwilling to be seen by Melanthe in the present confusion of her thoughts, she went to bed, leaving the same orders as she had done the night before.
CHAP. XIV.
_The base designs of the count de Bellfleur occasion a melancholy change in Louisa's way of life; the generous behaviour of monsieur du Plessis on that occasion._
Had the agonies Louisa suffered been of very long continuance, she must have sunk under them; but grief is easily dissipated in a young heart, and she awoke more tranquil.--The principles of religion grew stronger as her passion weaker, and she reflected that she ought to submit in every thing to the will of heaven, which sometimes converts what seems the greatest evil into good.--The offer of such a match as monsieur du Plessis, a man she loved, and who was master of accomplishments which might excuse the most violent passion, appeared indeed a happiness she would have gloried in had she been really such as he took her for; but then she had known him but a very short time, had no experience of his principles or humour; and tho' he seemed all honour, could not assure herself that the generosity which so much engaged her might not be all artifice; at least she found to think so would most contribute to her ease, therefore indulged it as much as she was able. She condemned herself for having given monsieur du Plessis permission to continue his visits, after having assured him he had nothing to hope from them, because a further conversation might only serve to render both more unhappy. She resolved however to give him no opportunity of talking to her of his passion, and in order to avoid thinking of it herself as much as possible, to go, as usual, into all company that came to Melanthe, and partake of every diversion that offered itself.
Accordingly she forced herself to a gaiety, she was far from feeling, vainly imagining that by counterfeiting a chearfulness, she should in time be able to resume it; but du Plessis hung too heavy at her heart, and when she affected the greatest shew of mirth, it was often interrupted with sighs, which she was not always sensible of herself. He visited her almost every day under one pretence or other; but she took such care never to be alone at the times that she could possibly expect him, that he had not the least opportunity to renew his addresses, any otherways than by his looks, which, notwithstanding, were perfectly intelligible to her, tho' she seemed not to observe them.
Melanthe, no longer able to keep the secret of her amour, finding Louisa, as she thought, had entirely regained her former sprightliness, acquainted her with all had passed between herself and count de Bellfleur; which, tho' the other was no stranger to, she seemed astonished at, and could not help telling her, that she feared the consequence of an intrigue of that nature would one day be fatal to her peace. Yet, said Melanthe, where one loves, and is beloved, it is hard to deny oneself a certain happiness for the dread of an imaginary ill.--In fine, my dear Louisa, I found I could not live without him; and heaven will sure excuse the error of an inclination which is born with us, and which not all our reason is of force to conquer.--But, added she, you always seem to speak of the count, as of a man that wanted charms to excuse the tenderness I have for him; and, I have observed, deny him those praises which I have heard you bestow very freely on persons that have not half his merit.
Louisa knowing how vain it was to contest with inclination, in persons who are resolved to indulge it, and also that all advice was now too late, began to repent of what she said. If, madam, replied she, after a little pause, I have seemed unjust to the count's perfections, it was only because I feared you were but too sensible of them; for otherwise, it must be owned, he has a person and behaviour extremely engaging; but as the carnival will put an end to all the acquaintance we have contracted here, it gives me pain to think how you will support a separation.
Perhaps it may not happen so soon as you imagine, said Melanthe:--tho' the carnival, and with it all the pleasures of this place will soon be over, our loves may be continued elsewhere:--suppose, Louisa, we go to France, added she with a significant smile, that shewed it was her intention to do so.
Some company coming in, prevented any farther discourse on this head for the present; but afterward she confirmed what she had now hinted at, and told Louisa, that she had resolved to pass some little time in seeing those places which were in her way to France, and afterwards meet the count at Paris, on his return from the campaign. Louisa, unable to determine within herself whether she ought to rejoice, or be sad at this intended journey, fell into a sudden thoughtfulness, which the other at that time took no notice of, but it served afterwards to corroborate the truth of something she was told, and proved of consequence little to be foreseen.
The inconstant count, in the mean time, satieted with Melanthe, and as much in love with Louisa as a man of his temper could be, was contriving all the ways his inventive wit could furnish him with to get handsomely rid of the one, and attain the enjoyment of the other. As he had spent many years in a continual course of gallantry, and had made and broke a thousand engagements, he easily found expedients for throwing off his intercourse with Melanthe, but none that could give him the least prospect of success in his designs on Louisa while they lived together and continued friends: to part them therefore was his aim, and to accomplish it the following method came into his head.
On his first acquaintance with these ladies his design was wholly on Louisa, but meeting a rebuff from her, his vanity rather than his inclinations had made him turn his devoirs to Melanthe, who too easily yielding to his suit, served but to heighten his desires for the other: the extravagant fondness of that unhappy woman rendering her visibly uneasy at even the ordinary civilities she saw him behave with to any other, discovered to him that jealousy was not the least reigning foible of her foul, and the surest means to make her hate that person whom it was not the interest of his passion she should continue to love. When they were alone together one day at the place of their usual rendezvous, in the midst of the most tender endearments, he asked suddenly if she had ever made Louisa the confident of his happiness. She was a little surprized at the question, but answered that she had not, and desired to know the reason of that demand; because, cried he, I am very certain she is no friend to our loves; and by the manner in which she behaves to me, whenever she has the least opportunity of shewing her ill humour, I imagined she either knew or suspected the affair between us.
Melanthe, conscious she had hid nothing from her, and also sensible of the little approbation she gave to her intrigue, was very much picqued that she should have done any thing to make the count perceive it;--whatever she suspects, cried she, haughtily, she ought not to treat with any ill manners a person whom I avow a friendship for. Vanity, answered he, sometimes gets the better of discretion in ladies of her years:--she knows herself handsome, and cannot have a good opinion of the man who prefers any charms to her own.--I imagine this to be the cause why she looks on me with such disdain, and, whenever you are not witness of her words, is so keen in satyrical reflections.--On our first acquaintance she looked and spoke with greater softness, and I can impute it to no other motive than the pride of beauty, that this sudden change has happened.
All the time he was speaking, the soul of Melanthe grew more and more fired with jealousy.--It is natural for every one to imagine whatever they like is agreeable to others. The distaste which Louisa had on many occasions testified for the count, seemed now to have been only affected:--the melancholy she had been in, and the deep resvery she remembered she had fallen into when first she informed her of their amour, joined to convince her, that the advice she gave proceeded from a motive very different from what she pretended.
The wily count saw into the workings of her soul; and while he seemed as if he would not discover the whole of his sentiments for fear of disobliging her, threw out the plainest hints, that Louisa had made him advances which would have been very flattering to a heart not pre-engaged, till Melanthe, not able to contain her rage, broke out into the fevered invectives against the innocent Louisa.--The ungrateful wretch! cried she, how dare she presume to envy, much less to offer an interruption to my pleasures!--What, have I raised the little wretch to such a forgetfulness of herself, that she pretends to rival her mistress and benefactress! In the height of her resentment, she related to the count in what manner she had taken her into her service; but that finding her, as she imagined, a girl of prudence, she had made her a companion during her travels, and as such treated her with respect, and made others do so too;--but, said she, I will reduce her to what she was, and since she knows not how to prize the honour of my friendship, make her feel the severities of servitude.
Nothing could be more astonishing, and at the same time more pleasing to count Bellfleur than this discovery: what he felt for Louisa could not be called love, he desired only to enjoy her; and the knowledge of her meanness, together with Melanthe's resentment, which he doubted not but he should be able to improve to the turning her out of doors, made him imagine she would then be humbled enough to accept of any, offers he might make her.
Pursuant to this cruel aim, he told Melanthe, that now not thinking himself under any obligation to conceal the whole of the affair, he must confess Louisa had not only made him advances, but gone so far as to discover a very great passion for him.--As I had never, said he, given her the least room to hope I was ambitious of any favours from her of that nature, I could not help thinking she was guilty of some indecencies ill-becoming a woman of condition, as well as infidelity to her friendship for you, whom she might well see I adored:--but alas! I little suspected the obligations she had to you, and now I know what she is, am in the utmost consternation at her ingratitude, impudence and stupidity. Heavens! added he, could she have the vanity to imagine that the genteel garb you had put her in, could raise her to such an equality, as to make me hesitate one moment if I should give the balance of merit on her side, and quit the amiable Melanthe for the pert charms of her woman?
Melanthe, believing every thing he said on this occasion, was ready to burst with indignation; which impatient to give vent to, parted from her lover much sooner than she was accustomed, in order to wreak on the poor Louisa all that rage and malice could suggest.
That innocent maid, little suspecting the misfortune that was falling on her, was at ombre with some ladies who came to visit them, when the furious Melanthe came home, and taking this opportunity of heightening her intended revenge by making it more public,--so, minx, said she to her, after having made her compliments to the company, you ape the woman of fashion exceeding well, as you imagine; but hereafter know yourself, and keep the distance that becomes you. With these words she gave her a push from the table in so rough a manner, that the cards fell out of her hand.
It is hard to say whether Louisa herself, or the ladies who were present, were most astonished at this behaviour; every one looked one upon another without speaking for some time: at last Louisa, who wanted not spirit, and on this occasion testified an uncommon presence of mind,--if I have seemed otherways than what I am, madam, said she, it was your commands obliged me to it:--I never yet forgot myself, and shall as readily resume what distance you are pleased to enjoin me. Insolent, ungrateful wretch, cried Melanthe, vexed to the soul to find her seem so little shocked at what she had done, if I permitted you any liberties, it was because I thought you merited them;--but get out of my sight, and dare not to come into it again till I send for you. I shall obey you, madam, replied Louisa, and perhaps be as well pleased to be your servant as companion.
This resignation and seeming tranquility under an insult, she expected would have been so mortifying, was the greatest disappointment could be given to Melanthe, and increased her rage to such a degree, that she flew to her as she was going out of the room, and struck her several blows, using at the same time expressions not decent to repeat, but such, as in some unguarded moments, women of quality level themselves with the vulgar enough to be guilty of. This is a behaviour, madam, which demeans yourself much more than me, said Louisa, and when reason gets the better of your passion, I doubt not but you will be just enough to acknowledge you have injured me.
She got out of the room with these words, but heard Melanthe still outrageous in her reproaches; but determined not to answer, made what haste she could into her own chamber, where having shut herself in, she gave a loose to the distraction so unexpected an event must naturally occasion.
Pride is a passion so incident to human nature, that there is no breast whatever that has not some share of it; and it would be to describe Louisa such as no woman ever was, or ever can be, especially at her years, to say she was not sensibly touched at the indignity she had received from a person, but a few hours before, had treated her as pretty near an equality with herself.--Nor was her amazement inferior to her grief, when after examining, with the utmost care, all her words and actions, she could find nothing in either that could possibly give occasion for this sudden turn.
From the present, she cast thoughts back on the past accidents of her life, and comparing them together, how cruelly capricious is my fate, said she, which never presents me with a good but to be productive of an adequate evil!--How great a blessing was the protection and tenderness I found from Dorilaus, yet how unhappy did the too great increase of that tenderness render, me!--What now avails all the friendship received from Melanthe, but to make me the less able to support her ill usage!--And what, of what advantage is it to me that I am beloved by a man the most worthy to be loved, since I am of a condition which forbids me to give any encouragement to his, or my own wishes!