Part 15

Never, said this faithful lover, did any horror equal what I felt at this intelligence!--The base count de Bellfleur came presently into my mind:--I thought it could be no other who had taken this abhored method of accomplishing the menaces you may remember I repeated to you:--I was going to fly up stairs that instant, but was withheld, and found it best to argue the man into reason, who, I found, was fully prepossessed you were his wife: as I was giving some part of your history, I saw the count's man passing thro' the hall; he saw me too, and would have avoided me, but I ran to him, seized him by the throat, and asked him what business had brought either him or his master to this place: the disorder he was in, and the hesitation with which he spoke, together with refusing to give any direct answer, very much staggered the innkeeper, who was just consenting to go up with me to your chamber, and examine into the truth of this affair, when we saw you come down, armed as your virtue prompted, and at the same time flying from the villain's pursuit.

Louisa could not help confessing that she owed the preservation of her honour wholly to him; for, said she, the people were so fully persuaded not only that I was his wife, but also that I had fled from him on some unwarrantable intent, that all I did, or could have done, would only have served to render me more guilty in their opinion; and it must have been by death alone I could have escaped the monster's more detested lust.

Monsieur du Plessis now made use of every argument that love and wit could inspire, to prevail with her to accept of the offer contained in the letter he had wrote to her; and concluded with reminding her, that if the charming confession her answer had made him was to be depended on, and that she had indeed a heart not wholly uninfluenced by his passion, she would not refuse agreeing to a proposal, which not the most rigid virtue and honour could disapprove.

Louisa on this replied with blushes, that since, by the belief she should never see him more, she had been unwarily drawn in to declare herself so far, she neither could, nor would attempt to deny what she had said; but, added she, it is perhaps, by being too much influenced by your merits, that I find myself obliged to refuse what you require of me:--I cannot think, cried she, of rendering unhappy a person who so much deserves to be blessed:--and what but misery would attend a match so unequal as yours would be with me!--How would your kindred brook it!--How would the world confuse and ridicule the fondness of an affection so ill placed!--What would they say when they should hear the nobly born, the rich, and the accomplished monsieur du Plessis, had taken for his wife a maid obscurely defended, and with no other dowry than her virtue!--My very affection for you would, in the general opinion, lose all its merit, and pass for sordid interest:--I should be looked upon as the bane of your glory;--as one whose artifices had ensnared you into a forgetfulness of what you owed to yourself and family, and be despised and hated by all who have a regard for you.--This, monsieur, continued she, is what I cannot bear, neither for your sake nor my own, and entreat you will no farther urge a suit, which all manner of considerations forbid me to comply with.

The firmness and resolution with which she uttered these words, threw him into the most violent despair; and here might be seen the difference between a sincere and counterfeited passion: the one is timid, fearful of offending, and modest even to its own loss;--the other presuming, bold, and regardless of the consequences, presses, in spight of opposition, to its desired point.

Louisa had too much penetration not to make this distinction: she saw the truth of his affection in his grief, and that awe which deterred him from expressing what he felt:--she sympathized in all his pains, and for every sigh his oppressed heart sent forth, her own wept tears of blood; yet not receding from the resolution she had formed, nothing could be more truly moving than the scene between them.

At length he ceased to mention marriage, but conjured her to consider the snares which would be continually laid, by wicked and designing men, for one so young and beautiful:--that she could go no where without finding other Bellfleurs; and she might judge, by the danger she had just now so narrowly escaped, of the probability of being involved again in the same:--he represented to her, in the most pathetic terms, that her innocence could have no sure protection but in the arms of a husband, or the walls of a convent; and on his knees beseeched her, for the sake of that virtue which she so justly prized, since she would not accept of him for the one, to permit him to place her in that other only asylum for a person in her circumstances.

Difficult was it for her to resist an argument, the reason of which she was so well convinced of, and could offer nothing in contradiction to, but that she had a certain aversion in her nature to receive any obligations from a man who had declared himself her lover, and who might possibly hereafter presume upon the favours he had done her.

It was in vain he complained of her unjust suspicion in this point, which, to remove, he protested to her that he would leave the choice of the monastry wholly to herself: that in whatever part she thought would be most agreeable, he would conduct her; and that, after she was entered, he would not even attempt to see her thro' the grate, without having first received her permission for his visit. Not all this was sufficient to assure her scrupulous delicacy: she remained constant in her determination; and all he could prevail on her, was leave to attend her as far as Leghorn, to secure her from any second attempt the injurious count might possibly make.

After this they entered into some discourse of Melanthe, and whether it would be proper for Louisa to write her an account of this affair, and the count's perfidiousness. Monsieur du Plessis said, he thought that the late usage she had received from that lady, deserved not she should take any interest in her affairs; but it was not this that hindered Louisa from doing it:--the remembrance of the kindness she had once been treated with by her, more than balanced, in her way of thinking, all the insults that succeeded it; and when she reflected how much Melanthe loved the count, and that she had already granted him all the favours in her power, it seemed to her rather an act of cruelty than friendship, to acquaint her with this ingratitude, and thereby anticipate a misfortune, which, perhaps, by his artifices and continued dissimulation, might be for a long time concealed: therefore, for this reason, she exacted a promise from monsieur du Plessis not to make any noise of this affair at his return to Venice, unless the count, by some rash and precipitate behaviour, should enforce him to it.

This injunction discovered so forgiving a sweetness of disposition in the person who made it, that monsieur du Plessis could not refrain testifying his admiration by the most passionate exclamations; in which perhaps he had continued longer, had not the eyes of the fair object discovered a certain languishment, which reminded him, he should be wanting in the respect he professed, to detain her any longer from that repose, which, seemed necessary, after the extraordinary hurry of spirits she had sustained; therefore having taken his leave of her for that night, retired to a chamber he had ordered to be got ready for him, as did she to that where she had been so lately disturbed: but all those who are in the least capable of any idea of those emotions, which agitated the minds of both these amiable persons, will believe neither of them slept much that night.

CHAP. XVI.

_The Innkeepers scruples oblige Louisa to write to Melanthe: her behavior on the discovery of the count's falshood. Louisa changes her resolution and goes to Bolognia_.

Monsieur du Plessis, having found it impossible to dissuade Louisa from going to England, now bent his whole thoughts to perform his promise of conducting her to Leghorn, in the most commodious manner he could; accordingly he rose very early, and calling for the man of the house, desired he would provide a handsome post chaise, and if he knew any fellows whose integrity might be relied on, he thought necessary to hire two such, who, furnished with fire-arms, might serve as a guard against any attack the count might take it into his head to make.

But the innkeeper had now entertained notions that forbid him to correspond with the designs of monsieur: some of his neighbours, who had heard of last night's accident, whispered it in his ears, that it would not be safe for him to let these young people depart together; that he could not be assured the person, who pretended to be the husband, might not be so in reality; and if he should come again with proper officers and proofs to claim his wife, it might be of dangerous consequence to him to have favoured her escape; and that the only way he had to secure himself from being brought into trouble, was to lay the whole affair before the podestat. This advice seemed to him too reasonable not to be complied with: he went directly to that magistrate, and while the lover was speaking to him, officers came in to seize both him and Louisa, and carry them before the podestat.

Monsieur du Plessis was very much surprized and vexed at this interruption, and the more so, as he feared it would terrify Louisa to a greater degree than the nature of the thing required; but in this he did injury to her courage: when she was called up and informed of the business, she surrendered herself with all the dauntlessness of innocence to the officers, and suffered them to conduct her, with du Plessis, to the house of the podestat.

Both of them flattered themselves with the belief, that when he should come to hear the story, they would be immediately discharged; but he happened to be one of those who are over wary in the execution of their office; and he only told them, that what they said might be true, but he was not to take things on the bare word of the parties themselves; and that therefore they must be confined till either the person who claimed the woman for his wife, should bring proofs she was so, or she should be able to make out he had no right over her.

That is easy for me to do, said Louisa; I am only concerned that this gentleman, meaning du Plessis, should be detained on an account he has no manner of interest in. The podestat answered, it was unavoidable, because as the person, who said he was her husband, had accused her of an elopement, there was all the reason in the world to suppose that if it were so, it was in favour of this gentleman, by the rage he was informed he had testified at finding him in Padua.

Louisa gave only a scornful smile, denoting how much she disdained a crime of the nature she was suspected of, and followed one of the officers, who conducted her to the place appointed for her confinement.

Monsieur du Plessis was touched to the soul at the indignity he thought offered to this sovereign of his affections; but he restrained himself when he considered that it had the sanction of law, which in all nations must be submitted to; and he only told the podestat, that the virtue of that lady would soon be cleared, to the confusion of those who had presumed to traduce it.

As, after they were under confinement, they had no opportunity of advising each other what to do, monsieur du Plessis, uneasy at the injustice done him, wrote immediately to the prince of Conti, in these terms:

_To his Royal Highness the Prince of_ CONTI.

"It is with the extremest reluctance I give your royal highness this trouble, or find myself obliged to accuse the count de Bellfleur of an action so dishonourable to our nation; but as I am here under confinement for preventing him from committing a rape on a young English lady, who failing to seduce at Venice, he followed hither; and under the pretence of being her husband, gained the people of the house on his side, and had infallibly compassed his intent, had it not been for my seasonable interposition: I am too well convinced of the justice I presume to implore, to doubt if your highness will oblige him to clear up the affair to the podestat, on which she will be at liberty to prosecute her journey, and I to throw myself, with the utmost gratitude and submission, at your feet, who have the honour to be

_Your royal highness's_

_Most devoted_

DU PLESSIS."

_Padua._

Louisa, who was ignorant what her lover had done, and knew no other way, than by writing to Melanthe, to extricate herself from this trouble, sent a letter to her, the contents whereof were as follows:

MADAM,

"On what imagined cause whatever you were pleased to banish me, I am certain you have too much goodness to suffer any one, much less a person you have once honoured with your friendship, to remain in prison for a crime it is impossible for me to be guilty of:--I am sorry I must accuse a person so dear to you;--but it is, madam, no other than the unworthy count de Bellfleur, who followed me hither, came into the inn where I was lodged, into the very chamber, and oh! I tremble while I relate it, had proceeded yet farther; and I had been inevitably lost, had not heaven sent me a deliverer in the unexpected arrival of monsieur du Plessis, who is also a prisoner as well as myself, for the timely rescue he gave me. You will wonder, doubtless, by what law either I should be confined for endeavouring to defend my chastity, or he, for generously assisting me; but the detested artful count had pretended himself my husband; and under the sanction of that name it was, that he met no opposition to his wicked will from the people of the house, and rendered them regardless of my shrieks and cries.--The magistrates are yet dubious of the truth; and till it can be proved what I really am, both myself and monsieur du Plessis must continue where we are:--have pity on me, therefore, I conjure you, madam, and write to the podestat: I have already told him I had the honour to belong to you;--a line from you will confirm it, and once more set at liberty a maid, who will ever remember all your favours with the greatest gratitude, and your withdrawing them as the worst misfortune could have befallen.

MADAM,

_From the prison at Padua.

Your most faithful, and Most humble servant_,

LOUISA."

These letters were sent away by special messengers, who had orders to be as expeditious as possible in the delivery of them.

But while these accidents happened at Padua, Melanthe was not without her share of inquietudes at Venice: she had not seen her beloved count in two whole days, and, tho' she sent several times to his lodgings, could hear nothing but that he was not yet come home. As her vanity would not suffer her to think herself neglected, without having received some glaring proofs of it, she feared some misfortune had befallen him, and exposed herself not a little in the enquiries she made after him, among all those who she could imagine were able to inform her any thing concerning him.

At length some person, who happened to see him take boat, told her he was gone to Padua, which being the rout she knew Louisa had taken, and she had also informed him, a sudden thought darted into her head that he was gone in pursuit of her.--It now seemed not impossible, but that all he had said concerning his dislike of her might be artifice; and that the love of variety might prevail on him at last to comply with the advances he pretended she had made him.--The privacy with which he went, none of his acquaintance knowing any thing of his journey, seemed to favour this opinion; and never was a heart more racked with jealousy and suspence, than that of this unhappy, and too easily deceived lady.

She had sometimes an inclination to go to Padua in person, and endeavour to find out what business had carried him thither; and her impatience had doubtless got the better of her prudence in this particular, if, sending once more to his lodgings, she had not heard he was returned.--On this she expected to see him in the evening, and flattered herself with his being able to make some reasonable excuse for his absence; but finding he came not, she was all distraction, and sent a billet to him next morning, requiring him to come to her immediately on the receipt of it; but as he was at that time in too ill a humour to think of entertaining her, sent her an answer by word of mouth, that he was indisposed, and would wait on her on his recovery.--This message seemed so cold, and so unlike the passion he had hitherto professed for her, that it threw her into almost convulsive agonies.--A masquerade was to be that night at the house of a person of quality: she sent again to know if he intended to be there, and, if he did, what habit he would wear, it being customary with them, ever since their amour, to acquaint each other with their dresses, that they might not mistake, by addressing to wrong persons. His reply was, that he would go if health permitted, but as to what he should wear he had not as yet thought of it.

What, if he hat not thought of it! cried she haughtily, when she heard these words;--the knowledge that I shall be there, ought now to make him think of it.--Pride, love, and the astonishment at this sudden change in his behaviour, rendered her wholly forgetful of what she owed her sex and rank; and she was just going to his lodgings, in order to upbraid him with his indifference, and prove what it was she now had to depend on from him, when the messenger from Louisa arrived and delivered her the letter, which contained a sad eclaircisement of all she wanted to be informed of.

At first reading it, she seemed like one transfixed with a sudden clap of thunder:--she had indeed been jealous, suspicious, fearful of her fate; but so glaring, so impudent a treachery had never entered her head, that any man could be guilty of, much less one whom her too fond passion had figured to her imagination, as possessed of all the virtues of his sex. It seemed too monstrous to be true; and she had accused the innocent Louisa as the inventor of this falshood, merely in revenge for her late treatment, had there been the least shadow of a pretence for doing so:--gladly would she have encouraged such a hope, but common sense forbid it;--all circumstances seemed to concur, in proving that he was indeed that villain which the letter represented him; and that surprize, which had in a manner stupified her on the discovery, was succeeded by a storm of mingled grief and rage, which no words can sufficiently describe:--she exclaimed against fate, cursed all mankind, and accused every thing as accessory to her misfortune, but that to which alone she owed it, her own imprudence.

The disorders of her mind had such an effect on her body, that she fell into fits, and a physician was sent for, who, tho' esteemed the most skilful in that country, found it required all his art to prevent a fever: she continued, however, for five days in a condition, such as permitted her not to do any thing either for the satisfaction of her own impatient curiosity, or to comply with the just request Louisa had made; and had not monsieur du Plessis's letter to the prince been mere successful, they must both have continued where they were, perhaps for a considerable time.

That, however, had all the effect could be expected from a prince of so much honour: he immediately sent for the count de Bellfleur; and easily finding, by the confusion with which he replied to his examination, and the little low evasions he was obliged to have recourse to, that the affair was as monsieur du Plessis had represented, gave him a severe check, and ordered him to depart immediately from Venice, where he told him, he had given such occasion to call the honour of the French nation in general in question; and to repair with all expedition to his winter quarters. Which command he instantly obeyed, without taking any leave of Melanthe, or perhaps even thinking on her.

At the same time the prince dispatched his gentleman of horse to Padua, with necessary instructions for clearing up the affair; on which the prisoners were discharged, and their pardon asked by the podestat for doing what, he said, the duties of his post had alone obliged him to; tho' it is certain he had exercised his authority with greater strictness than the necessity of the thing required; since, if the count had been in reality the husband of Louisa, it would have been more easy for him to bring proofs of it, than for those under confinement to invalidate his claim.

After the proper compliments to the gentleman who had taken this trouble, monsieur du Plessis entreated he would excuse him to the prince, that he retarded the thanks he had to pay his royal highness, till his return from conducting Louisa some part of her journey, which being a piece of gallantry the lady herself seemed well pleased with, was easily complied with by the other.

This faithful lover had now a full opportunity to entertain his mistress with his passion, and represented it to her with so much force and eloquence, together with the dangers she would continually be exposed to, that she had at length no words to form denials, and gave him leave to conduct her to some monastry in Italy, the choice of which she left to him, till the campaign was over. This was indeed all he presumed to request of her at present. It may happen, said he, that your lover may fall a victim to the fate of war, among many other more brave and worthy men, who doubtless will not survive the next battle, and you will then be at liberty to pursue your inclinations either to England or elsewhere; and be assured of this, that I shall take care, before the hour of danger, to leave you mistress of a fortune, sufficient to protect you from any future insults of the nature you received from Melanthe.

The tender soul of Louisa was so much dissolved at these words, that she burst into a flood of tears, and cried out, Oh! too generous du Plessis, think not I will survive the cruel hour which informs me all that is valuable in man has ceased to be!--Take,--oh! take no care for me; when you are no more, nothing this world affords can enable me to drag on a wretched life!

What must be the transport of a man, who loved like him, to hear a mouth accustomed to the greatest reserve, utter exclamations so soft, so engaging, so convincing to him that he was no less dear to her than he could even wish to be!--He threw himself at her feet, and even thought that posture not humble enough to testify, as it deserved, his gratitude and joy. But she not suffering him to continue in it, he took the hand that raised him, kissed off the tears which had fallen from her eyes upon it, with speechless extacies, and seemed almost beside himself at the concern she could not yet overcome, on the bare imagination of losing him in the way he mentioned. If you love me, said she tenderly, you will endeavour to preserve yourself:--I have now put myself under your protection, by consenting to do as you would have me, and have no other from whom I would receive those favours I expect from you:--think not, therefore, that I will perform my promise, unless you give me yours, not to be so covetous of fame as to court dangers, nor, in too eager a pursuit of glory, to lose the remembrance of what you owe to love.

Oh thou divinest softness! cried he, be assured I will put nothing to the venture that might take me from Louisa!--Your kindness, my angel, has shewed me the value of life, and almost made a coward of your lover:--no farther will I go than the duties of my post oblige me, and that honour, which to forfeit, would render me unworthy of your care.