Eliza Haywood - Love in Excess

Madam (answer’d he coldly, but with great Complaisance) you have said enough to make a Lover less obedient, refuse; but because I am sensible of the Accidents that happen to Letters, and to shew that I can never be repugnant even to the most rigorous of your Commands, I shall make no scruple in fulfilling this, and trust to your Goodness for the re-settling me in your Esteem, when next you make me so happy as to see you. The formality of this Compliment touch’d her to the Quick, and the thought of what she was like to suffer on his account, fill’d her with so just an Anger, that as soon as she got the Letter, she knock’d hastily at the Gate, which being immediately open’d, broke off any further Discourse, she went in, and he departed to his Lodging, ruminating on every Circumstance of this Affair, and consulting with himself how he shou’d proceed. Alovisa (for it was her House which Amena by a whimsical effect of Chance had made choice of for her Sanctuary) was no sooner told her Rival was come to speak with her, but she fell into all the Raptures that successful Malice could inspire, she was already inform’d of part of this Night’s Adventure; for the cunning Charlo who by her Orders had been a diligent Spy on Count D’elmont’s Actions, and as constant an Attendant on him as his shadow, had watch’d him to Monsieur Sanseverin’s Garden, seen him enter, and afterwards come with Amena into the Tuilleries ; where perceiving ’em Seated, ran Home, and brought his Lady an Account; Rage, Jealousie and Envy working their usual Effects in her; at this News, made her promise the Fellow infinite Rewards if he would invent some Stratagem to separate ’em, which he undertaking to do, occasion’d her being up so late, impatiently waiting his return; she went down to receive her with great Civility, mix’d with a feign’d surprize to see her at such an Hour, and in such a Dishabilee; which the other answering ingeniously, and freely letting her into the whole Secret, not only of her Amour, but the coldness she observ’d in D’elmont’s Behaviour at parting, fill’d this cruel Woman with so exquisite a Joy, as she was hardly capable of dissembling; therefore to get liberty to indulge it, and to learn the rest of the particulars of Charlo, who she heard was come in, she told Amena she would have her go to Bed, and endeavour to compose her self, and that she would send for Monsieur Sanseverin in the Morning, and endeavour to reconcile him to her. I will also added she, with a deceitful smile, see the Count D’elmont, and talk to him in a manner as shall make him truly sensible of his Happiness; nay, so far my Friendship shall extend, that if there be any real Cause for making your Amour a Secret, he shall see you at my House, and pass for a Visitor of mine; I have no body to whom I need be accountable for my Actions and am above the Censures of the World. Amena, thank’d her in Terms full of gratitude, and went with the Maid, whom Alovisa had order’d to conduct her to a Chamber prepar’d for her; as soon as she had got rid of her, she call’d for Charlo, impatient to hear by what contrivance this lucky Chance had befallen her. Madam, said, he, tho’ I form’d a thousand Inventions, I found not any so plausible, as to alarm Monsieur Sanseverin’s Family, with an out-cry of Fire. Therefore I rang the Bell at the fore-gate of the House, and bellow’d in the most terrible accent I could possible turn my Voice to, Fire, Fire, rise, or you will all be burnt in your Beds. I had not repeated this many times, before I found the Effect I wish’d; the Noises I heard, and the Lights I saw in the Rooms, assur’d me there were no Sleepers left; then I ran to the Tuilleries , designing to observe the Lover’s proceedings, but I found they were appriz’d of the Danger they were in, of being discover’d, and were coming to endeavour an entrance into the Garden. I know the rest, interrupted Alovisa, the Event has answer’d even beyond my Wishes, and thy Reward for this good Service shall be greater than thy Expectations. As she said these Words she retir’d to her Chamber, more satisfy’d than she had been for many Months. Quite different did poor Amena pass the Night, for besides the grief of having disoblig’d her Father, banish’d her self his House, and expos’d her Reputation to the unavoidable Censures of the unpitying World; for an ungrateful, or at best an indifferent Lover. She receiv’d a vast addition of Afflictions, when taking out the Letter which D’elmont had given her at parting, possible to weep over it; and accuse her self for so inconsiderately breaking the noble Resolution she had form’d, when it was writ. She found it was Alovisa’s Hand, for the Count by mistake had given her the second he receiv’d from that Lady, instead of that she desir’d him to return. Never was Surprize, Confusion, and Dispair at such a height, as in Amena’s Soul at this Discovery; she was now assur’d by what she read, that she had fled for Protection to the very Person she ought most to have avoided; that she had made a Confident of her greatest Enemy, a Rival dangerous to her Hopes in every Circumstance. She consider’d the High Birth and vast Possessions that Alovisa was Mistress of in opposition to her Father’s scanted Power of making her a Fortune. Her Wit and Subtilty against her Innocence and Simplicity: her Pride, and the respect her grandeur commanded from the World, against her own deplor’d and wretch’d State, and look’d upon her self as wholly lost. The violence of her Sorrow is more easily imagin’d than express’d; but of all her melancholy Reflections, none rack’d her equal to the belief she had that D’elmont was not unsensible by this time whom the Letter came from, and had only made a Court to her to amuse himself a while, and then suffer her to fall a Sacrifice to his Ambition, and feed the Vanity of her Rival; a just Indignation now open’d the Eyes of her Understanding, and considering all the Passages of the Count ’s Behaviour, she saw a thousand Things which told her, his Designs on her were far unworthy of the Name of Love. None that were ever touch’d with the least of those Passions which agitated the Soul of Amena, can believe they would permit Sleep to enter her Eyes: But if Grief and Distraction kept her from repose; Alovisa had too much Business on her Hands to enjoy much more; She had promis’d Amena to send for her Father, and the Count , and found there were not too many Moments before Morning, to contrive so many different forms of Behaviour, as should deceive ’em all three, compleat the Ruin of her Rival, and engage the Addresses of her Lover; as soon as she thought it a proper Hour, she dispatch’d a Messenger to Count D’elmont, and another to Monsieur Sanseverin, who full of Sorrow as he was, immediately obey’d her Summons. She receiv’d him in her Dressing-room, and with a great deal of feign’d Trouble in her Countenance, accosted him in this manner. How hard is it, said she, to dissemble Grief, and in spite of all the Care, which I doubt not you have taken to conceal it, in consideration of your own, and Daughter’s Honour, I too plainly perceive it in your Face to imagine that my own is hid: How, Madam, cry’d the impatient Father, (then giving a loose to his Tears) are you acquainted then with my Misfortune? Alas, answer’d she, I fear by the Consequences you have been the last to whom it has been reveal’d. I hop’d that my Advice, and the daily Proofs the Count gave your Daughter of the little regard he had for her, might have fir’d her to a generous Disdain, and have a thousand Pardons to ask of you for Breach of Friendship, in concealing an Affair so requisite you should have known: Oh! Madam resum’d he, interrupting her, I conjure you make no Apologies for what is past, I know too well the greatness of your goodness, and the favour you have always been pleas’d to Honour her with; not to be assur’d she was happy in your Esteem, and only beg I may no longer be kept in Ignorance of the fatal Secret. You shall be inform’d of all, said she, but then you must promise me to Act by my Advice; which he having promis’d, she told him after what manner Amena came to her House, the coldness the Count express’d to her, and the violence of her Passion for him. Now, said she, if you should suffer your rage to break out in any publick Manner against the Count , it will only serve to make your Daughter’s Dishonour the Table-Talk of all Paris . He is too great at Court, and has too many Friends to be compell’d to any Terms for your Satisfaction; besides, the least noise might make him discover by what means he first became acquainted with her, and her excessive, I will not say troublesome fondness of him, since; which should he do, the shame wou’d be wholly her’s, for few wou’d condemn him for accepting the offer’d Caresses of a Lady so young and beautiful as Amena. But is it possible, cry’d he (quite confounded at these Words) that she should stoop so low to offer Love. Oh Heavens! Is this the Effect of all my Prayers, my Care, and my Indulgence. Doubt not, resum’d Alovisa, of the Truth of what I say, I have it from herself, and to convince you it is so, I shall inform you of something I had forgot before. Then she told him of the Note she had slip’d into the Letter he had forc’d her to write, and of sending Anaret to his Lodgings, which she heighten’d with all the aggravating Circumstances her Wit and Malice cou’d suggest; till the old Man believing all she said as an Oracle, was almost senseless between Grief and Anger; but the latter growing rather the most predominant, he vow’d to punish her in such a manner as should deter all Children from Disobedience. Now, said Alovisa, it is, that I expect the performance of your Promise; these threats avail but little to the retrieving your Daughter’s Reputation, or your quiet; be therefore perswaded to make no Words of it, compose your Countenance as much as possible to serenity, and think if you have no Friend in any Monastry where you could send her till this Discourse, and her own foolish Folly be blown over. If you have not, I can recommend you to one at St. Dennis where the Abbess is my near Relation, and on my Letter will use her with all imaginable Tenderness. Monsieur was extreamly pleas’d at this Proposal, and gave her those thanks the seeming kindness of her offer deserv’d. I would not, resum’d she, have you take her Home, or see her before she goes; or if you do, not till all things are ready for her Departure, for I know she will be prodigal of her Promises of Amendment, ’till she has prevail’d with your Fatherly Indulgence to permit her stay at Paris , and know as well she will not have the Power to keep ’em in the same Town with the Count . She shall, if you please, remain conceal’d in my House, ’till you have provided for her Journey, and it will be a great Means to put a stop to any farther Reflections the malicious may make on her; if you give out she is already gone to some Relations in the Country. As she was speaking, Charlo came to acquaint her, one was come to visit her. She made no doubt but ’twas D’elmont, therefore hasten’d away Monsieur Sanseverin, after having fix’d him in a Resolution to do every thing as she advis’d. It was indeed Count D’elmont that was come, which as soon as she was assur’d of, she threw off her dejected and mournful Air, and assum’d one all Gaiety and good Humour, dimpl’d her Mouth with Smiles, and call’d the laughing Cupids to her Eyes.