Chapter 40

_Rinaldo_ in the mean Time was not idle in the Senate, there being a Motion made for Election of a Captain to the _Rialto_ Galleon, made void by the Death of its former Commander in the late Fight, and which was the Post designed by the Admiral for _Erizo_. _Rinaldo_ catching an Opportunity of obliging _Dangerfield_, for whom he entertain'd a great Love and Respect, proposed him as a Candidate for the Command, urging his late brave Performance against the _Turks_, and how much it concerned the Interest of the State to encourage Foreigners. He being the Admiral's Brother, and being so fervent in the Affair, had by an unanimous Consent his Commission sign'd just as his Brother came into the Senate, who fearing how Things were carried, comforted _Erizo_ by future Preferment; but _Erizo_, however he stifled his Resentment, was struck with Envy, that a Stranger, and his Enemy shou'd be preferred to him, and resolved Revenge on the first Opportunity. They all went home with _Rinaldo_, and arrived whilst _Belvideera_ was talking above Stairs with her Sister. _Rinaldo_, impatient to communicate his Success to _Dangerfield_, ran into the Study, where he left him; but missing him there, went into the Garden, and searching all about, returned to the Company, telling them he believ'd _Dangerfield_ had fallen asleep in some private Arbor in the Garden, where he cou'd not find him, or else impatient of his long stay, had departed; but he was sure, if he had gone, he wou'd soon return: However they went to Dinner, and _Belvideera_ came down, making an Apology for her Sister's Absence, thro' an Indisposition that had seized her. _Gonzago_ had his wished for Opportunity of entertaining his Mistress, whilst she always expecting some News of _Dangerfield_, sat very uneasie in his Company; whilst _Dangerfield_ in the Closet, was as impatient to see her. The short Discourse she had with her Sister, gave him assurance that his Love wou'd not be unacceptable. _Maria_ durst not open the Closet, afraid that her Sister shou'd come up every Minute, besides, 'twas impossible to convey him out of the Chamber undiscovered, untill 'twas dark, which made him Wonder what occasioned his long Confinement; and being tired with sitting, got up to the Window, and softly opening the Casement, looked out to take the Air; his Footman walking accidentally in the Court, and casting up his Eye that way, spy'd him, which confirm'd his Patience in attending for him at the Gate; at length it grew Dark, and _Maria_ knowing that her Sister was engag'd in a Match at Cards with her Father, _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, the Admiral being gone, she came softly to the Closet, and innocently took _Dangerfield_ by the Hand, to lead him out, he clapt the dear soft Hand to his Mouth, and kissing it eagerly, it fired his Blood, and the unhappy Opportunity adding to the Temptation, raised him to the highest Pitch of Passion; he found himself with the most beautiful Creature in the World, one who loved him, he knew they were alone in the Dark, in a Bed-chamber, he knew the Lady young and melting, he knew besides she cou'd not tell, and he was conscious of his Power in moving; all these wicked Thoughts concurring, establish'd him in the Opinion, that this was the critical Minute of his Happiness, resolving therefore not to lose it, he fell down on his Knees, devouring her tender Hand, sighing out his Passion, begging her to Crown it with her Love, making Ten thousand Vows and Protestations of his Secrecy and Constancy, urging all the Arguments that the Subtilty of the Devil or Man could suggest. She held out against all his Assaults above two Hours, and often endeavoured to Struggle from him, but durst make no great Disturbance, thro' fear of Alarming the Company below, at last he redoubling his Passion with Sighs, Tears, and all the rest of Love's Artillery, he at last gain'd the Fort, and the poor conquered Lady, all panting, soft, and trembling every Joynt, melted by his Embraces, he there fatally enjoy'd the greatest Extasy of Bliss, heightned by the Circumstances of Stealth, and Difficulty in obtaining. The ruin'd Lady now too late deplored the Loss of her Honour; but he endeavour'd to Comfort her by making Vows of Secrecy, and promising to salve her Reputation by a speedy Marriage, which he certainly intended, had not the unhappy _Crisis_ of his Fate been so near. The Company by this Time had gone off, and _Belvideera_ had retir'd to her Chamber, melancholy that she had missed her Hopes of seeing _Dangerfield_. _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ going out of the Gate, saw _Dangerfield's_ Footman, whom they knew, since they saw him with his Master in the Morning. _Gonzago_ asked him why he waited there? 'For my Master, Sir,' reply'd the Footman. 'Your Master is not here sure,' said _Gonzago_. 'Yes, but he is, Sir,' said the Servant, 'for I attended him hither this Morning with _Rinaldo_, and saw him in the Afternoon look out of a Window above Stairs.' 'Ha!' said _Gonzago_, calling _Erizo_ aside, 'by Heavens, he lies here to Night then, and perhaps with my Mistress; I perceiv'd she was not pressing for our Stay, but rather urging our Departure. _Erizo_, _Erizo_, this Block must be remov'd, he has stepped between you and a Command to Day, and perhaps may lye between me and my Mistress to Night.' 'By Hell (answered _Erizo_) thou hast raised a Fury in me, that will not be lulled asleep, but by a Potion of his Blood; let's dispatch this Blockhead first': And running at the Footman, with one Thrust killed him. _Dangerfield_ by this time had been let out, and hearing the Noise, ran to the Place; they presently assaulted him; he defended himself very bravely the space of some Minutes, having wounded _Gonzago_ in the Breast; when _Rinaldo_ hearing the Noise, came out; but too late for _Dangerfield's_ Relief, and too soon for his own Fate; for _Gonzago_, exasperated by his Wound, ran treacherously behind _Dangerfield_, and thrust him quite thro' the Body. He finding the mortal Wound, and wild with Rage, thrust desperately forward at _Erizo_, when at the instant _Rinaldo_ striking in between to part them, received _Dangerfield's_ Sword in his Body, which pierced him quite thro'. He no sooner fell, than _Dangerfield_ perceived his fatal Error, and the other Two fled. _Dangerfield_ curs'd his Fate, and begg'd with all the Prayers and Earnestness of a dying Man, that _Rinaldo_ wou'd forgive him. 'Oh!' said _Rinaldo_, 'you have ill rewarded me for my Care in your Concerns in the Senate to Day.' The Servants coming out, took up _Rinaldo_, and _Dangerfield_ leaning upon his Sword, they led him in. _Belvideera_ first heard the Noise, and running down first met the horrid Spectacle, her dear Father breathing out his last, and her Lover, whom she had all that Day flattered her self with Hopes of seeing, she now beheld in Streams of his Blood; but what must poor _Maria's_ Case be? besides the Grief for her Father's Fate, she must view that dear Man, lately Happy in her Embraces, now folded in the Arms of Death, she finds herself bereft of a Parent, her Love, her Honour, and the Defender of it, all at once; and the greatest Torment is, that she must bear all this Anguish, and cannot Ease her Soul by expressing it. _Belvideera_ sat wiping the Blood from her Father's Wound, whilst mournful _Maria_ sat by _Dangerfield_, administring all the Help she cou'd to his fainting Spirits; whilst he viewed her with greater Excess of Grief, than he had heretofore with Pleasure; being sensible what was the Force of her silent Grief, and the Wrong he had done her, which now he cou'd never Redress: He had accidentally dropt his Wig in the Engagement, and inclining his Head over the Couch where he lay, _Rinaldo_ casting his Eye upon him, perceiv'd the Mark of a bloody Dagger on his Neck, under his left Ear: 'Sir, (said _Rinaldo_, raising himself up) I conjure you answer me directly, were you born with the Mark of that Dagger, or have you received it since by Accident.' 'I was certainly born with it,' answer'd he. 'Just such a Mark had my Son _Cosmo_, who was lost in the _Adriatick_.' 'How! (reply'd _Dangerfield_, starting up with a wild Confusion) Lost! say'st thou in the _Adriatick_? Your Son lost in the _Adriatick_?' 'Yes, yes,' said _Rinaldo_, 'too surely lost in the _Adriatick_.' 'O ye impartial Powers (said _Dangerfield_), why did you not reveal this before? Or why not always conceal it? How happy had been the Discovery some few Hours ago, and how Tragical is it now? For know,' continued he, addressing himself to _Rinaldo_, 'know that my suppos'd Father, who was a _Turky_ Merchant, upon his Death-bed call'd me to him, and told me 'twas time to undeceive me, I was not his Son, he found me in the _Adriatick_ Sea, ty'd to two Planks in his Voyage from _Smyrna_ to _London_; having no Children, he educated me as his own, and finding me worth his Care, left me all his Inheritance with this dying Command, that I shou'd seek my Parents at _Venice_.' _Belvideera_ hearkning all this while to the lamentable Story, then conjectured whence proceeded the natural Affection the whole Family bore him, and embracing him, cry'd out, 'Oh my unhappy Brother.' _Maria_ all the while had strong and wild Convulsions of Sorrow within her, 'till the working Force of her Anguish racking at once all the Passages of her Breast, by a violent Impulse, broke the Ligament that doubled in her Tongue, and she burst out with this Exclamation; 'Oh! Incest, Incest.' _Dangerfield_ eccho'd that Outcry with this, 'O! Horror, Horror, I have enjoy'd my Sister, and murder'd my Father.' _Maria_ running distracted about the Chamber, at last spy'd _Dangerfield's_ Sword, by which he had supported himself into the House, and catching it up, reeking with the Blood of her Father, plung'd it into her Heart, and throwing herself into _Dangerfield's_ Arms, calls out, 'O my Brother, O my Love,' and expir'd. All the Neighbourhood was soon alarm'd by the Out-cries of the Family. I lodged within three Doors of _Rinaldo's_ House, and running presently thither, saw a more bloody Tragedy in Reality, than what the most moving Scene ever presented; the Father and Daughter were both dead, the unfortunate Son was gasping out his last, and the surviving Sister most miserable, because she must survive such Misfortunes, cry'd to me; 'O! behold the Fate of your wretched Countryman.' I cou'd make no Answer, being struck dumb by the Horror of such woeful Objects; but _Dangerfield_ hearing her name his Country, turning towards me, with a languishing and weak Tone, 'Madam,' said he, 'I was your Countryman, and wou'd to Heavens I were so still; if you hear my Story mention'd, on your Return to _England_, pray give these strange Turns of my Fate not the Name of Crimes, but favour them with the Epithet of Misfortunes; my Name is not Dangerfield, but _Cla_--' His Voice there fail'd him, and he presently dy'd; Death seeming more favourable than himself, concealing the fatal Author of so many Misfortunes, for I cou'd never since learn out his Name; but have done him the justice, I hope, to make him be pity'd for his Misfortunes, not hated for his Crimes. _Francisco_ being sent for, had _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ apprehended, condemn'd, and executed. _Belvideera_ consign'd all her Father's Estate over to her Uncle, reserving only a Competency to maintain her a Recluse all the rest of her Life.

NOTES: The Dumb Virgin.

p. 429 _Dangerfield._ This name is not to be found in any one of Mrs. Behn's plays, but as it does occur in Sedley's _Bellamira; or, The Mistress_ (1687), one can only conclude that Aphra gave it to Sir Charles and altered her own character's nomenclature. Mrs. Behn, it may be remembered, was more than once extraordinarily careless with regard to the names of the Dramatis Personae in her comedies. A striking example occurs in _Sir Patient Fancy_, where the 'precise clerk' is called both Abel and Bartholomew. In _The Feign'd Curtezans_ Silvio and Sabina are persistently confused, and again, in _The Town Fop_ (Vol. III, p. 15 and p. 20), the name Dresswell is retained for Friendlove. Sedley's _Bellamira_ is derived from Terence's _Eunuchus_, and Dangerfield is Thraso; the Pyrgopolinices, Miles Gloriosus, of Plautus.

Cross-Reference from Introduction: _The Dumb Virgin_

Beginning: Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so romantically and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on the Source of that play, Vol. I, p. 218.

Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of "Source" section:

Mrs. Behn founded the plot of _The Dutch Lover_ upon the stories of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish novel entitled '_The History of Don Fenise_, a new Romance written in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,' 8vo, 1651.

* * * * * * * * *

THE WANDERING BEAUTY.

I was not above twelve Years old, as near as I can remember, when a Lady of my Acquaintance, who was particularly concern'd in many of the Passages, very pleasantly entertain'd me with the Relation of the young Lady _Arabella's_ Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir _Francis Fairname_, a Gentleman of a noble Family, and of a very large Estate in the West of _England_, a true Church-Man, a great Loyalist, and a most discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way inferiour to him in every Circumstance of Virtue. They had only two Children more, and those were of the soft, unhappy Sex too; all very beautiful, especially _Arabella_, and all very much alike; piously educated, and courtly too, of naturally-virtuous Principles and Inclinations.

'Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir _Robert Richland_, her Father's great Friend and inseparable Companion, but superiour to him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty of this young Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like to have been as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical Year of Sixty Three, in which he dy'd, as I am told, though he was then hardly Sixty. However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated in the Summer's Nacturine. His unseasonable Appetite grew so strong and inordinate, that he was oblig'd to discover it to Sir _Francis_; who, though he lov'd him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his Daughter's Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband; especially, when he consider'd the great Disproportion in their Age, which he rightly imagin'd would be very disagreeable to _Arabella's_ Inclinations: This made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading Arguments in his Capacity, to convince Sir _Robert_ of the Inequality of such a Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Passion increasing each Day more violently, the more assiduously, and with the greater Vehemence, he press'd his Friend to use his Interest and Authority with his Lady and Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural Proposition; offering this as the most weighty and prevailing Argument, (which undoubtedly it was,) That since he was a Batchelor, he would settle his whole Estate upon her, if she surviv'd him, on the Day of Marriage, not desiring one Penny as a Portion with her. This Discourse wrought so powerfully with her Mother, that she promis'd the old Lover all the Assistance he could hope or expect from her: In order to which, the next Day she acquainted her fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage she was like to have, if she would but consent _to lye by the Parchment that convey'd them to her_. The dear, fair Creature, was so surpriz'd at this Overture made by her Mother, that her Roses turn'd all into Lillies, and she had like to have swoon'd away; but having a greater Command of her Passions than usually our Sex have, and chiefly Persons of her Age, she, after some little Disorder, which by no Means she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a Return to her Mother's Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit; and, for that Time, got Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the Misfortune which she partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas) was no Cure of her Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly attack'd by her Father and Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest and Duty could urge, which she endeavour'd to obviate by all the Arguments that Nature and Inclination could offer; but she found them all in vain, since they continu'd their ungrateful Solicitations for several Days together, at the End of which, they both absolutely commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir _Robert_; so that finding her self under a Necessity of complying, or at least of seeming so, she made 'em hope, that her Duty had overcome her Aversion; upon which she had a whole Week's Liberty to walk where she would, unattended, or with what Company she pleas'd, and to make Visits to whom she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance thereabouts; tho' for three or four Days before, she was strictly confin'd to her Chamber.

After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time, she propos'd to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of hers, who liv'd about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before discours'd very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality Sir _Robert_ should keep when she was marry'd to him: All which was highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and kissing her for it, which she return'd to 'em both with a Shower of Tears. This did not a little surprize 'em at first, but asking her what could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the late Subject? She answer'd, 'That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.' This affectionate Reply did amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of 'em, after having desir'd that they would not be uneasy if she should not return 'till a little before 'twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her, considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs, especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when they had walk'd with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their own.

Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and Mother had left her, unless when they had press'd her to a Marriage with the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e're she took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu'd 'till past eight at Night, having walk'd ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir _Francis_ and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife, who had one only Child, a Daughter, about the Lady _Arabella's_ Age and Stature. 'Twas happy for her she got thither before they were a Bed; for her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be tir'd, and her tender Feet to be gall'd. To the good Woman of the House she applies her self, desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering her any reasonable Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her, had Compassion of her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her, that she might lye with her Daughter, if she pleas'd, who was very cleanly, tho' not very vine. The good Man of the House came in soon after, was very well pleas'd with his new Guest; so to Supper they went very seasonably; for the poor young Lady, who was e'en ready to faint with Thirst, and not overcharg'd with what she had eaten the Day before. After Supper they ask'd her whence she came, and how she durst venture to travel alone, and a Foot? To which she reply'd, That she came from a Relation who liv'd at _Exeter_, with whom she had stay'd 'till she found she was burthensome: That she was of _Welsh_ Parents, and of a good Family; but her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with whom she could by no Means continue, especially since she would have forc'd her to marry an old Man, whom it was impossible she should love, tho' he was very rich: That she was now going to seek her Fortune in _London_, where she hop'd, at least, to get her a good Service. They all seem'd to pity her very heartily; and, in a little Time after, they went to their two several Apartments, in one of which _Arabella_ and the Damsel of the House went to Bed, where the young Lady slept soundly, notwithstanding the Hardness of her Lodging. In the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable Custom, the young hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which waken'd _Arabella_, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge, proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so well pleas'd, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady confirm'd it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be made on even Hands. 'If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother) you shall e'en have her Sunday-Cloaths.' 'Agreed (return'd _Arabella_) but we must change Shifts too; I have now a Couple about me, new and clean, I do assure you: For my Hoods and Head-dress you shall give me two Pinners, and her best Straw-Hat; and for my Shoes, which I have not worn above a Week, I will have her Holliday Shoes.' 'A Match, indeed, young Mistress,' cry'd the good Wife. So without more Ceremony, the young unhappy Lady was attir'd in her Bedfellow's Country Weeds, by Help of the Mother and Daughter. Then, after she had taken her Leave of the good old Man too, she put a broad round Shilling into his Wife's Hand, as a Reward for her Supper and Lodging, which she would fain have return'd, but t'other would not receive it. 'Nay, then, by the Mackins, (said her Hostess) you shall take a Breakfast e're you go, and a Dinner along with you, for Fear you should be sick by the Way.' _Arabella_ stay'd to eat a Mess of warm Milk, and took some of their Yesterday's Provision with her in a little course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the direct Road to _London_, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her last Farewel of them.