LETTER V

From a Nun to a Cavalier

I hope, by th’ different Ayre of this, you ’ll find That as I ’ve chang’d my Stile, I ’ve chang’d my Mind. The Substance of these Lines will let you know That you ’re to take them for my last Adieu: For since your Love is past redemption gone, I ’ve no Pretence to justifie my own. All that I have of yours shall be convey’d To you, without so much as mention made Of your loath’d Name; the Pacquet shall not bear Those Letters which I now detest to hear.

In Donna Brites I can well confide, And whom, you know, I ’ve other ways imploy’d; Your Picture she ’ll (and all that ’s yours) remove, Those once-endearing Pledges of your Love: A thousand Times I ’ve had a strong Desire To tear and throw them in the flaming Fire; But I ’m a Fool too easie in my Pain, And such a generous Rage can’t entertain.

Wou’d but the Story of my Cares create The like to you, methinks ’twou’d mine abate. Your Trifles, I must own, went near my Heart, With them I found it difficult to part. To what was yours I bore such mortal Love, Tho’ you yourself did quite indiff’rent prove, They ’ve cost me many a Sigh, and many a Tear, And more Distraction than you e’er shall hear. My Friend, I say, now keeps them in her Pow’r, And I am never to behold ’em more; She them will secretly to you convey, Without my Knowledge hasten them away: Tho’ for a sight I on my Knees shou’d lie, The more I pray, she must the more deny.

Ne’er had I known the Fury of my Flame Had I not try’d my Passion to reclaim; Nay, to attempt a Cure I ’d ne’er begun, Cou’d I ’ve foreseen the Hazards I must run: For sure I am, I cou’d with greater Ease Support your Scorn, as rig’rous as it is, Rather than to retain the dreadful Thought, That Absence must for ever be my Lot.

I shou’d be happy if I cou’d be Proud, And with the Nature of our Sex endow’d: Cou’d I despise you, and your Actions scorn, And be reveng’d for all the Ills I ’ve born.

Fool as I am, to let my hopes rely On one who strives t’ encrease my Misery! You talk of Truth and Sincerity; They both are what you never shew’d to me. To tell you what I ’ve born ’tis now too late, (For th’ most obliged, and yet the most ingrate) Let it suffice I all your Falsehood know; And all I ask for what I ’ve done for you, Is, Write no more, but some Invention find To tear your Image from my Tortur’d Mind.

I too must now forbear to write to you, } Lest a Relapse shou’d by that means ensue; } And the Event of this I ’ve no Desire to know. } Methinks you shou’d enough contented be With th’ Ills you have already brought on me: Sure now you need no more molest my Ease, Or shake the Structure of my future Peace. Do you but leave me in Uncertainty, I hope in time I shall at quiet be: ’Tis not impossible but I may find A Love as true as you have been unkind. But what will Love that any Man shall shew Afford to me, without I love him too? Why shou’d his Am’rous Passion more incline To move my Heart, than yours was mov’d by mine? And I perceive by what I now endure, That the first Wounds of Love admits no Cure; All sorts of Remedies then prove in vain, W’ are ne’er recover’d to our selves again; So fixt, and so immutable is Fate, We ’re doomed to Love, though w’ are repaid with Hate.

I ’m sure I cou’d not so hard-hearted be, To treat another as you ’ve treated me: Provided you was to another chang’d, Of you I cou’d not that way take revenge. I ’d fain perswade my self a Nun shou’d ne’er Confine the Passions of a Cavalier; But if a man wou’d by his Reason move, A Mistress in a Convent is most fit for Love; Those in the World do all their Thoughts employ On Balls, on Visits, and their Finery, Encrease their Husbands’ Jealousies and Cares, Whilst those who favour us have no such Fears. Alas! we ’ve nothing here to change Desire, But by Reflection daily fan the Fire.

I wou’d not have you think that I maintain These Arguments, in hopes I may regain Your Love; too well I know my Destiny; I always was, and still must wretched be. When you was here I did no Rest enjoy: } Present, for fear of infidelity; } When distant, Absence did my ease destroy. } I always trembled while you was with me, Lest you shou’d be found, and come to Injury: While in the Field, both Lives in Danger were; Fear of my parents did encrease my Care. So that ’tis plain, ev’n at the best, my Mind Was as disturb’d as I at present find: Since you left me, had you but once seem’d kind, I shou’d have follow’d, and not been confin’d. Alas! what wou’d have then become of me, T’ have brought a Scandal on my Family; T’ have lost my Parents and my Honour too, And, after all, to be despis’d by you? What Thoughts soever you of me retain, I reconjure you ne’er to write again: Methinks you shou’d sometimes reflect upon The base ungen’rous Injuries you ’ve done.

No woman sure did e’er so easy prove; What did you ever do to gain my Love? You was the first that to the Army went; To stay the longest there, the best content. Did you more careful of your Person grow, Altho’ upon my knees I begg’d you wou’d do so? Did you e’er strive to fix in Portugal, A Place where you was well belov’d of all? Your Brother’s Letter hurry’d you away, On the receipt of it you ’d not a moment stay; And I ’m inform’d you ne’er was pleased more Than when on board a making from our Shore. You can’t deny but you deserve my Hate, And I may thank my self for all my Fate; I was too free, and gave my Heart too soon, And brought upon my self the Ills I ’ve undergone. Alas! from Love alone Love ne’er will rise, It must be rais’d by Skill and Artifice. Your first Design was to ensnare my Love, And nothing wou’d have spar’d that might successful prove: Nay, I believe, if it had needful been, Rather than failed, you wou’d have lov’d again; But you found easier ways to work upon, And thought it best to let the Love alone.----

Perfidious Man! which way can you atone For th’ base and treach’rous Affronts you ’ve done? The blinding Passion now is vanquished quite, That kept the foulness of them from my sight: Must my tormented Soul never have Ease? When shall I be, thou cruel Man, at Peace?

Within a while you yet perhaps may hear, Or have a Letter, from your injur’d Fair, To let you know that she is at repose, Freed of the Torments that from you arose. Oh! what a Pleasure it will be to me, Without concern t’ accuse you of your Treachery! When I ’ve forgot the wracking Pains I ’ve born, And able am to talk of you with Scorn!

You ’ve had the better, it is plainly prov’d, Because I you have out of Reason lov’d; But by the Conquest you small Honour won, For I was young, and easily undone. I, whilst a Child, was cloister’d, knew no hurt, Discours’d with none but of the vulgar Sort, And what belonged to Flatt’ry never knew, Till I unhappily was taught by you: You ’d a good Character of every one, Which you made use of to entice me on.

My Indignation, and your Falsehood too, Makes me at present much disorder’d grow; But, I assure you, I will shortly find Some Means or other for to ease my Mind. Perhaps may take a way to quit my Care Which, when ’tis acted, you ’ll be pleas’d to hear.

Fool as I am, to say thus o’er and o’er The same that I ’ve so often said before! Of you a Thought I must not entertain, And fancy too I ne’er shall write again? For what occasion ’s there that I to you Shou’d be accountable for all I do?

THE END OF THE NUN’S LETTERS.

Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE Printers to Her Majesty

FOOTNOTES

[1] An American translation was published in 1890. _Vide_ Bibliography.

[2] Cordeiro, _op. cit._, p. 131, 1st ed.

[3] Cf. Cordeiro, _op. cit._, pp. 147-8 and 300, 1st ed.

[4] This was partly owing to the ideas of the time, and partly for reasons already mentioned, and also because her father wished to build up an estate, to be entailed on heirs-male.

[5] Letter v.

[6] Asse, _op. cit._, Preface, p. vi. For an account of the somewhat relaxed character of convent discipline at the time _vide_ Cordeiro, pp. 156-164, 1st ed.

[7] ‘Muita era a liberdade das grades naquelle miseravel tempo.’

[8] Cordeiro, _op. cit._, pp. 326-7, 1st ed.

[9] Cordeiro, _op. cit._, pp. 139-40, 1st. ed.

[10] Cordeiro, _op. cit._, p. 182, 1st ed.

[11] For a good comparison of the Letters of Marianna and Heloïse see an article entitled ‘La Eloísa Portuguesa’ in the June number of the review _España Moderna_, 1889, written by Emilio Pardo Bazán.

[12] Cordeiro, _op. cit._, p. 299, 1st ed.

[13] This syntactical extension of the sex to the patronymic was general in the seventeenth century. _Vide_ Cordeiro, _op. cit._, p. 91, 1st ed.

[14] This should be 83. Cf. the extract from the Baptismal Register in Cordeiro, p. 285, 1st ed.

[15] This document was found and transcribed by Cordeiro on pp. 328-9 of his oft-referred-to work, 1st ed.

[16] _Op. cit._, Preface, p. xi.

[17] _Memoires_, vol. iii. pp. 372-3; Paris, 1873.

[18] Observation of Senhor Cordeiro, _op. cit._, p. 6, 1st ed.

[19] Observation of M. Asse.

[20] Asse, _op. cit._, Preface, pp. xiii, xiv.

[21] Letter to Mme. de Grignan in vol. ii., page 284, of the edition of _Paris_ 1862.

[22] Asse, _op. cit._, Preface, p. xv.

[23] Director for a time of the _Gazette de France_, and a friend of Mme. de Sévigné and Racine. Boileau described him as

‘Esprit né pour la cour et maitre en l’art de plaire Guilleragues qui sais et parler et se taire.’

[24] Quoted by Cordeiro, _op. cit._, p. 21, 1st ed.

[25] One of those ecstasies so common in conventual annals is here meant.

[26] No. 4 in all editions and translations except that of Cordeiro.

[27] A province in the extreme south of Portugal.

[28] The Mother Superior of the convent.

[29] Gates in the city of Beja: so called because they are on the side which looks toward Mertola, 54 kilometres distant. Both Beja and Mertola are in the province of the Alemtejo.

[30] Hérard Bouton and Catherine Lecomte de Nonant.

[31] Both Cordeiro and the French texts read ‘first,’ which does not make sense.

[32] No. 2 in all editions and translations except that of Cordeiro.

[33] Two of Chamilly’s servants.

[34] The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, which was signed May 2nd, 1668, ratified this peace and put an end to the war called ‘of Devolution.’

[35] D. Brites de Noronha was a professed nun and a companion of Marianna in the convent of the Conception at Beja.

[36] Marianna refers to her condition as a Franciscan nun in a small provincial town, not to the rank of her family, which was as good as that of her lover.

[37] Marianna was about twenty-six years of age when she first met Chamilly. She had naturally made her profession at sixteen and had been confided to the care of the convent at twelve, or even much earlier, like her sister.

Transcriber's Note

Duplicate headings have been removed.

The following errata were printed before the preface and have been incorporated into the text:

Page 33, line 12, _read_ Guilleragues _for_ Guilleraque. „ 37, „ 1 (heading), _read_ Meu _for_ Men. „ 47, „ 16, _read_ appearances _for_ proofs. „ 49, „ 6, _read_ this beginning _for_ this, beginning. „ 54, „ 20, _omit_ ought to. „ 57, „ 18, _read_ paused _for_ passed. „ 62, „ 8, _insert_ one _after_ some. „ 63, „ 9, _read_ at times I do not dare to think I could be jealous and yet not displease you. „ 69, „ 20, _read_ your departure based on such cruel pretexts. „ 70, „ 6, _read_ I could never have been on my guard against all my weaknesses. „ 71, „ 16, _read_ Can it be that you did not care to enjoy them? „ 74, „ 11, _read_ Methinks, even, I am not at all content. „ 77, „ 3, _read_ Would it not be very cruel indeed of you to make. „ 82, „ 3, _read_ What! is all my desire then to be in vain? „ 93, „ 12, _read_ the attachment you might have had for another woman could have caused me. „ 96, „ 19, _read_ never forgets what first awakened it to feelings. „ 100, „ 4, _read_ who does not make them render an exact. „ 102, „ 5, _read_ what confusion, what a false step, what depths.

In addition, the following apparent errors have been corrected:

p. 119 "qu’ il" changed to "qu’il"

p. 120 "autresois" changed to "autrefois"

p. 122 "quen" changed to "qu’en"

p. 122 "venez," changed to "venez"

p. 124 "qu’ à" changed to "qu’à"

p. 128 "France," changed to "France"

p. 130 "tout a" changed to "tout à"

p. 153 "soussert" changed to "souffert"

p. 153 "euffiez" changed to "eussiez"

P. 154 "quelles" changed to "qu’elles"

p. 155 "mal’heureuse" changed to "mal’heureuse)"

p. 158 "Ah" changed to "Ah!"

p. 161 "persidie" changed to "perfidie"

P. 165 "anneés" changed to "années"

p. 201 "ar" changed to "are"

p. 205 "I’ m" changed to "I ’m"