This page copyright © 2002 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com
TO THE Right Honourable THE Lady LANSDOWNE.
Madam,
In the first known Ages of the World, when Persons were seen of
Eminent Worth, Excellent Beauty, Greatness of Soul, or any other
Conspicuous Vertue; the Rest of Mankind testify'd their Approbation,
by Erecting Altars to them, as to some visible Divinity.
When publick Adoration no longer obtain'd, Dedications, Madam, were constituted to celebrate unexceptionable Merit; and as the Motive was great and undeniable, the Practice long remained Sincere and Pure; until the odious Mixture of Interest polluted the Design, which advanced Idols in the Place of true Merit, to which they wade through a Slough of Nonsense, gross Absurdities, fulsome groveling Flattery, false Turns of Wit, vain Self-Praises, and more vain Self-Disqualifications.
These fashionable Dedicators, Madam, may not be improperly compared to Habit-makers for Masquerades; the Business of each, being to furnish Dresses suited to Fantastick Tastes. A grave Senator, seems metamorphosed into a Harlequin; a Blockhead, or Common Cheat into a Judge; a Rake becomes a Cardinal; the errantest Coward in Nature, struts in Scarlet with a Truncheon in his Hand. The Masques indeed in Dedications, differ from such as are us'd at Balls, in this Particular; That those are much Handsomer, and these sometimes Uglier than the true Face, but still the Person in both is equally well concealed.
But, above all, the Tribe of Dedicators delight most to deal in Domine's; Things contrived wholly to disguise the Persons, and to fit all Sexes and Sizes. A few Sounding Words, such as, Magnanimous, Munificent, Consummate, Elegant, Charming, Illustrious; adjusted into proper Periods, with necessary Monosylables to tag them together, make up a compleat Domine-Dedication.
To avoid this high Road of Absurdities, and restore to the Muse her original Design, and primitive Lustre; I presumed to shew her Your Ladyship's great Name, like the true Deity, to abolish false Worship; upon which, with Transport, She assured me, that either You are a proper Subject for Applause, in the strongest Terms, or there is not any One now living. That as You have all the Wit and Beauty which ever adorned your Sex, your Ladyship has a peculiar Character, that can fit none but your Self. Your Fortitude, Heroick Vertue, and Conjugal Love, which chearfully carried You to support a voluntary Eighteen Months Imprisonment with your Lord; excluded from the Pleasure of seeing your Children; and though in the Bloom of Youth and Beauty, endow'd with a Soul and Fortune capable of tasting all the Delights of Conversation, and the Entertainments and Glories of the World; chose, at a Time; and in a Condition the worst fitted for Restraint, to leave the Elegant Manner of Living in Your own Family, in which you were Educated; to share all the Inconveniencies of a Prison, that You might discharge the Duty of a tender, loving, and most extraordinary Wife, so to sweeten the painful Hours of your Lord's Confinement.
When we reflect, Madam, upon this amiable Particular of Your Life, how can we prevent our Souls from being work'd up to the highest pitch of Veneration! Hence we contemplate your Ladyship's real Merit; then proceed to the Beauty of your Face and Person, the Ornaments and Modesty of your Mind, the solid Charms of Vertue in your Conduct. And here we could for ever rest, without that needless, though glorious Addition of your Noble Descent. The Ancient Family of the Villiers, the Hereditary Beauty of the Race! Those extraordinary Qualifications which compelled two successive Monarchs to Honour the first Duke of Buckingham, with the utmost extent of Favour. The Bravery, Sense, good Breeding, and Handsome Person of your great Father, the late Earl of Jersey, yet warm and dear to our Remembrance! Thus accomplished in your Self, and thus allied to Heroes; where can we find a Lady so every way qualified for Universal Admiration?
Not to follow such a glorious Tract of Brightness, we must be either Blind or Stupid. In your Ladyship, there are such Incidents of Merit, that the bare Recital appears to as much Advantage, as the nicest Panegyrick; they are so fitted for Applause, so naturally depending upon one another, that the finest Web, wove by the most Masterly Antique Hand, never produced so compleat a Texture. Whilst Fortune, once just in the Distribution of her Favours, in regard of such uncommon Vertue, look'd kindly down upon Mankind, and Selected the Immortal Granville to be Possessor of the Fairest Villiers. The World, Madam, applauded Your solid Judgment, that could so well distinguish between my Lord Lansdowne's Intrinsick Value, and the false Brillant of Others.
Here, Madam, I find it impossible for one, who has the least Delight in Poetry, not to pay some small Tribute to so great a Genius: His Lordship's Satyr, Wit, and Humour in Comedy; His true Sublime; numerous and flowing Verse; His admirable Taste, and just Imitation of the Ancients; His exalted Notions of Honour, join'd to the Graces of his Mind and Person; descended from a truly Noble and Loyal Family, make Him not only the worthiest, but finest Gentleman of the Age.
Having taken the Liberty of expressing some small Part of that Respect and Value I have for your Ladyship; I presume, (like those humble and poor Mortals, who could only bring common Sweets and Flowers for an Offering) to present your Ladyship, out of my mean Store, with the following Produce of some indolent Hours. I am not ignorant how much a good Apology is wanting for my Presumption; and yet am at a Loss how to supply the Defect.
These Novels, Madam, have Truth for their Foundation; several of the Facts are to be found in Ancient History: To which, adding divers new Incidents, I have attempted, in Modern English, to draw them out of Obscurity, with the same Design as Mr. Dryden had in his Tales from Boccace and Chaucer. Though with a far, far unequal Performance! As much as Poetry is more Eloquent than Prose; or an extraordinary Genius, preferable to None.
I am, with all Submission,
Madam,
Your Ladyship's
most Devoted,
most Obedient
Humble Servant,
Dela. Manley.
Of all those Passions which may be said to tyrannize over the Heart of Man, Love is not only the most violent, but the most persuasive: It conducts us through Storms, Tempests, Seas, Mountains and Precipices, with as little Terror to the Mind, and as much Ease, as through beautiful Gardens and delightful Meadows: A Lover esteems nothing difficult in pursuit of his Desires: It is then that Fame, Honour, Chastity and Glory, have no longer their due Estimation even in the most vertuous Breast. When Love truly seizes the Heart, it is like a malignant Fever which thence disperses it self through all the sensible Parts; the Poyson preys upon the Vitals, and is only extinguished by Death; or, by as fatal a Cure, the accomplishment of its own Desires.
France was at War with the German Emperor, who had gain'd some Advantage over King Charles, who reigned at that Time; insomuch, that to ingage the Duke of Savoy more firmly in his Interest (who besides was General of his Forces) he was constrained to give him in Marriage his beautiful Daughter Reginia, the Heroin of our following true History. The Duke was old, even beyond the Age of Seventy: The lovely Princess in the early Bloom of Fifteen, as yet, without any other Sense of Passion, but obedience to her Father: But Nature, always true to her self, seemed to raise in her something repugnant to so unequal a Hymen. In those Days, Arts were not improved to that degree as we see them now: A Person upon whose Head, Age had let fall her snowy Favours, did not dream of disguising them with the youthful Hair of another Person: There were no Perukes in Use; nor was the Razor come in fashion: A long white Beard, and hoary Locks, were but too conspicuous to the Sight. And tho' we are told in History, that it was formerly a Custom to dye and disguise the Hair among the Romans, in their Days of Luxury; yet had our good Duke no Notion of any such Transition: He appear'd more like a venerable Hermit than a Lover in the Eyes of his young Princess; for whom she felt a Sort of Reverence, but little or no Affection.
To make up the Defect of Youth, he was a Man of Vertue and good Nature, Master of a Mind truly Heroick, and had been renowned in War for the most accomplished General of the Age. He saw the Princess with the Eyes of Admiration, and certainly she was the most perfect Beauty of the West. She had inherited from her Mother, who was a Daughter of England, that yellow or gold colour Hair, blue Eyes, and fair Complection, natural to the English Women, so rarely met with among the Natives, and therefore so much admired in France: Her Lips glow'd with Vermilion: There was something inexpressible and bewitching at the Corners of her Mouth, that look'd like the pleasing Smiles of Lovers, even when she was most serious; but her Laugh disclosed Ten thousand Cupids, with Teeth as orient and even as Nature ever produced: The Air of her Face was sweet, beyond even sweetness it self: She was never to be seen without complacency, which she excited in the Hearts of the Beholders, from whence they sent her forth, willingly, their Admiration and good Wishes: Her fair Eyes, large and brillant, were full of Understanding, which acquainted us with the Capacity of her Mind: Her Air, her Shape, her Stature, (even at the Age of Fifteen) her Hands, Arms, Neck and Bosom, would take up an Age to describe, if we were to do Justice to each Particular: In a Word, there was no defect either in her Face or Person: And, to make up the Miracle, her Temper, Wit, Generosity and good Nature, were as praise-worthy as her Form; yet, with all these Graces, she was sacrificed to the old Duke, who became his own Ambassador: He was struck by her sight, and not as other Sovereigns usually are, who see only the Picture of the Ladies they marry; for, at the End of the Campaign, he was carried by the King to Court; whence, from the first moment, his aged Heart became all combustible Matter, and he left not his pursuit till Reginia, with all her Charms, was delivered to his Arms. It is true, notwithstanding the Modesty of her Nature, she endeavour'd to intreat the King her Father, not to dispose of her into Savoy: But alas! She was given to understand, that the Duke might so far resent the Refusal, as to join his Arms with the Emperor, which would inevitably ruin the King's Affairs: Wherefore, in spight of all the Princess's secret Tears, she was publickly espoused to the Duke of Savoy.
Sigisbert, Count of Briançon, was prime Minister to the Duke; he was both a Soldier and a Statesman, and every way equal to the Task; he had been very fortunate in the Field and Cabinet; by his Conduct Savoy was arrived to make a much more considerable Figure than it had done of a long Time before, which might then justly be said to hold the Ballance between France and the Empire; tho', with all its own Weight, the Scales could but barely incline to the former: Whereas, had the Duke removed himself to the Emperor's Side, the King's had been kick'd up and lost in Air; which, as I remark'd before, occasioned that unequal Marriage. Sigisbert saw the Princess with the same Eyes as his Lord: Whether an amorous Star was then predominant, for they both beheld her at the same Time, and were both inslaved; tho' there was to be found a great difference in their Age, Sigisbert counting no more than Six and thirty, which Term of Years were almost doubled by the Duke: But, however, One was a Sovereign, the Other but a Subject; and which was worse, married to an ancient Lady for the Largeness of her Dowry, from whom he could expect no Children; yet was her Constitution so good, and her Life so regular, that his Hopes were very distant of being releas'd from that incommodious Wedlock, 'till he should himself be of an Age not to receive much Benefit from the Freedom her Death might present him with. He had often repin'd at the ill Posture he found his Affairs in, upon the Death of his Father, which had occasioned his Marriage, whose Excesses had greatly wasted their Demeans; nor could Sigisbert have disintangled himself without the large Possessions of the Countess; whence, out of an Appearance of Gratitude, he affected to appear a civil Husband; but expecting no Heirs from her Body, he educated, with utmost Care, his Brother's Son, a most beautiful Youth named Lotharius, about two Years older than the Dutchess of Savoy, whom he bestow'd upon her Highness as her Page of Honour, for Ends that we shall hereafter relate.
Sigisbert had a goodly Person, with the Mien of a Man of Quality and Fashion; but his Soul ill corresponded to his Body: He was ambitious, dark, and cruel: Neither his Wit nor Understanding had been surpass'd by any: His Passions were violent, but he had the Art to conceal as much of them as he pleased: His excellent Sense was obscur'd by Craft and Wickedness: He had no more Religion than Politicians usually have, but assumed the Appearance of it to indear himself to the Duke, who was a perfect good Man, and would not have honour'd the Count with his Esteem and Confidence, if he had been able to have look'd into his Soul, where all the Vices had took up their Habitation; more especially implacable Revenge, and raging Lust, for we must not presume to call it Love; so beautiful a Tree, could never produce such baleful Fruit. His Cupid was not born, as the Poets feign, from Venus and Jupiter, a Celestial Deity, the Original of all that's great, virtuous, admirable and delightful in the Universe: His was an Anti-Cupid, the Son of Nox and Erebus, a vulgar God, whose Attendants are Sorrow, Lust, Rapin, Enmity, Revenge, Luxury, and Repentance! He carries a Dart of Lead instead of Gold, and produces Hatred in the Place of fair Affections.
Count Briançon feeling the raging Fire in his own Breast, added Fuel to that of his Lord's. His first Endeavours were to promote that Marriage, whence he only might expect any Happiness to himself. I have often thought, that the Passions of Love, or Anger, are more or less violent according to the Temper of the Person who is seized by them. We esteem such a One very wrathful, or very amorous; call his Rage dreadful, and his Love extream, an implacable Enemy, or a raging Lover; without considering, that this proceeds purely from the Nature of the Man; and that One with half the same Fire may be as true and valuable a Lover, though without those turbulent Effects, which are usually the Attendants of a passionate and unruly Temper; such was Sigisbert's, if he had not learnt in Courts to cover his with a profound Dissimulation, though working to his dark ends as sure, and fatally, as the most noisy and tempestous Lover.
The Marriage was solemnized, I dare not say consummated, comparing the Frost of seventy Years with the immature Spring of fifteen, which was in those Days an Age of Childhood, not of Knowledge as in ours. The Duke had time to insinuate himself by all the gentleness and obliging Behaviour, with the tenderness, affection and amity of a Parent, who lay their Correction aside, and suffer only native fondness to prevail; insomuch, as the Dutchess, not any otherways prepossessed, found it extreamly to her Mind, that the good Duke permitted her to be Mistress of all her Desires: To please her girlish fond fancy, he exhibited this Show, that Baby, Collations, pretty Sports, fine Cloaths, rich Jewels, Coaches, and Equipage; so that finding all her Desires accomplish'd, she every Night hug'd the doating Duke in her Arms, with this fond, this passionate Expression, I love you better than my Papa, oh! who would be contradicted by a rigid Parent, when they can be humoured by a doating Husband?
Thus cheaply pleased, the Duke led her away to be the Ornament of Savoy; diligent Sigisbert went before, at his Master's expence, to prepare every thing glorious for the Dutchess's reception. But humane foresight, which is exceeding short, and limited, oftentimes in thinking to prevent an Evil, procures it: Innocent Reginia, though at first she shrunk up from the Frost, or rather Snowy Love of her Lord, yet being greatly humoured by him, past any Precedent of what she had found in her own Education, grew so fond that if she were separated from him a Moment, she complained, and feared the return of her harsh Preceptors, who had not always insinuated themselves with that Ease which the tenderness of the Princess's Nature required.
The King was extreamly pleased at the Change in his Daughter's Temper, whose former Aversion to the Duke, was now, as we have said, turned into fondness; but knowing her excellent Taste, and early perception of Things, by providing against what Evils might hereafter betide, he instructed her unwary Innocence that there was such a Thing as Evil; whilst she dreamt not of any Desires beyond the Happiness of having her Lord continue his seeming Goodness. I will not swear her Ignorance could have been of any long duration; but as it was, the King came to take his leave of his dear Daughter in private, the Evening before he should be publickly obliged to do it in the Morning. Madam Royal presented her Hand to be led into her Closet, where being seated in two Armed Chairs, opposite and touching one another, the tender Monarch gave her several Embraces, without the Power of speaking; his Sobs rising, his Tears falling, which he wiped away, and did with all his Endeavours suppress. The affectionate Daughter, with a noble sort of Presentiment, enquired of the Monarch, what could so disorder him? 'If he had disposed of her for his own Interest, and the good of her Estate, as she could not but believe, because he was a tender Parent, and she always a most obedient Child; wherefore did he weep at her separation? She had been taught to obey, by her own duteous Inclinations, and the Example of her Sisters, with the like Behaviour of other Royal Daughters. She knew that Princesses were born to be made Strangers to their own Country, to enjoy but for a small Time, that Region wherein they first received the Light; thence to be banished into a foreign Land, where their Husbands ever looked upon them as only Matter for Posterity, and as Spies of the Nation, from whence they had received their Birth.'
The King hearing her exalted Reason, which was prodigious in a Girl of her Age, wept the more abundantly. The Dutchess seeing that profusion of Tears, cast her self upon his Neck and Face, dry'd his Eyes, threw her self at his Feet, embraced his Knees, and conjured him to tell her the Occasion of his Disorder. Then she ran to the Door of the Cabinet, opened and shut it again to see if any one were in hearing; whence returning, with her utmost Endeavours and that young and ardent Fire with which she was agitated, she once more renewed her Request, that her Lord and Father, would be most graciously pleased to tell her the Cause of his Agitation.
The King, being something recovered from his great Disorder, took the Princess in his Arms, and seating her as at first in the Chair over against him, said to her, 'My best beloved and most beautiful Daughter, nay, so beautiful, that thou may'st vie Advantages with the East and West, nor do I fear to make thee acquainted with thy own Perfections, because thou may'st from thence set a greater Value upon thy self, know that nothing but Heaven deserves to be sole Proprietor of thy Charms; alas, to my Grief, I speak not now of thy Lord the Duke, chill'd, with the Frost of seventy Winters, his frozen Blood not lending Warmth nor Strength enough to his aged Arm, to pluck the fair Fruit of Youth from the goodly Bough, for Lovers expect to have it gathered; but such was my mishap; by inevitable Reasons of State, I was constrained to sacrifice thee, maugre all thy melting Tears, and perswasive Beauty, contrary to my own Presentiments, and thy Intreaties. What I have now to praise and thank thee for, my Child, is thy Duty and Obedience to me; but as thy Years increase, and thou, I fear according to the Laws of Nature, may'st find the Sting of other Affections; let me imprint upon thy Mind, these my last Words that perhaps thou may'st ever hear from thy affectionate Father: Know, my Daughter, that there is no lasting Charm in Women, whatever their Flatterers may say, but Vertue; Beauty is oftentimes a fatal Snare, by which the Owner is praised to her Destruction; whilst on the contrary, Chastity rises like a Glory, to encompass the Head of her whom it adorns: The debauched, and fondly goodnatured, may, perhaps, bestow their Pity upon a beauteous Object, whose ill Conduct gives up her Vertue a Prey to momentary Joys, and ill Desires; but what small, what despicable amends would that make for the Opinion of the World and Honour lost; to say nothing of that tremenduous State hereafter, in which, when a few Years of Life here, either well or ill bestowed, are pass'd, we must continue for ever? You are going, Daughter, to your own Dominions, a Court of License and Delight; and, for what I can see, with too great a Power to be your own Mistress; your Lord making your Will his Pleasure. All Persons will croud about and admire you: Such Beauty may give Voice to the Dumb, and Understanding to the Simple. Take their Praise and Homage with Humility; look up to your great Creator, and give him the Glory which is due for such Perfections: But oh! beware, beware, of ever letting Love for any other Object but your Husband, enter into your Breast! Beware! avoid that Deity as you would a restless, strong, and implacable Enemy: You can be harm'd by no other Passion: Preserve your Chastity, and reverence your Lord the Duke. Remember, if once the bare Appearance of your Honour seem to be forfeited, you will appeal in vain to Father, Mother, Brother, or any other of your Kindred or Friends; who, tho' they may bewail you in their Hearts secretly, yet, for their own Honour they dare not seem to do it, lest they be thought of kindred to your Stain, and a well-wisher to those Follies you have committed. As to my self, I shall be inconsolable in a double Capacity: First, as a tender Father, and as being the Instrument of this unequal Marriage, I shall always reproach my self as the Cause of your Dishonour; by which, it will infallibly happen, that tho' I shall not dare to succour you, nay, must be with the First to condemn and even punish you, my Child, yet your Crime will bring my grey Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave, and my Life be made a Sacrifice to your Irregularities. On the other Side all these Disadvantages, if you behave your self with Vertue, will add double lustre to your Character: To have a fair and young Princess, wedded with so great disparity, lead a Life unblameable, what Glory for you? What Ostentation for me, in being the happy Father of so good and chast a Daughter? Go, my Child, in the Name and Fear of God, take my last farewel: Always remember the Royal House from whence you sprung, never as yet dishonoured by Cowardice on one Side, or Want of Vertue on the Other. Take my Blessing and Farewel!'
'Tis certain that the Dutchess had hitherto no Idea of that dreadful Passion the King pretended to warn her of, and perhaps might have passed over several Years without any reflection that way; but the violent Concern he had shewn, and the Warnings he had given her, made her look towards Love as an inevitable Evil that was bound, as she was a Woman, to overtake her; and therefore she sought, by reading, to be acquainted with its Nature and Effects, that, if possible, she might avoid its fatal Influence. During her Journey into Savoy, tho' she every where met with all possible Honours and Diversions, yet she was thoughtful and uneasy: The King's Words had left so deep an Impression upon her Mind, that her Quiet seem'd to be disturb'd: Nor did the Caresses of her Lord find the same Degree of Favour from her as before, since she was taught by what her Father had said, that they were unworthy of her Charms, disproportionate to her Years, and rather an Abhorrence than a Delight to Nature.
Sigisbert had prepared all Things with such Splendor and Ostentation, that nothing was more glorious than the Dutchess's Entry into Turin. The numerous Spectators flock'd to admire her Person; the Reputation of her Beauty was gone before her; but she so far exceeded Report, that they beheld her with Astonishment and Rapture. Nor could they regard the triumphal Arches, or other Devices prepared by the Count, for gazing upon the Dutchess's Beauty: They cast up their Eyes to Heaven in admiration, rent the Air with one incessant Voice of Applause, clap'd their Hands, congratulating their Sovereign's Happiness and their own, who had brought so divine a Creature to live among them; believing the Toils and Hazards of War more than over-paid, since, for a Reward, he was return'd the happy Possessor of such triumphant Beauty; which, as they imagined, exceeded the Spoils, Riches, Glories, and Persons of what had ever been brought to old Rome by their most fortunate Generals.
Justs and Tournaments were then the greatest Gallantry of the Age: Count Briançon was reckoned the most dext'rous Knight of all Lombardy: He had never been overcome; it was an accomplishment wherein he excel'd; so it is not to be doubted but he took care that Diversion might not be omitted, by which he should have the Opportunity to display his Perfections before the Dutchess. He had caus'd the Tournay to be proclaimed in all Foreign Courts, which was to hold eight Days, and the Dutchess resolved to bestow the Prize. I need not trouble my Readers with the Particulars of an Entertainment, discontinued among us for more than a Century: I will only tell them in the general, that the lovely Reginia appeared under a Canopy of Cloth of Gold; the aged Duke sitting by her Side, feasting on her Charms. The first Day her beautiful Hair was breaded with Pearls and Rubies, under a Veil of Pink Colour; the next, adorned with Roses and Carnations, shaded by a Veil of transparent Silver Gauze. Every time her Dress was diversified, and still the present seemed to excel the last. Sigisbert entered the Lists as the Dutchess of Savoy's Champion; her Picture was fixed to the Pillar, at whose Feet he laid the Trophies of those Knights he had vanquish'd, which consisted in the Portraitures of such fair Persons whom they admired. The Count bore upon his Shield the Device of a Phoenix, with this Motto, thereby alluding to the singular Charms of the Dutchess,
Seven successive Nights he came to receive the Prize from his Mistress's fair Hand, there had not been found a Knight but whom he had vanquish'd: He always advanced with an Air and Grace peculiar to himself, taking Care to intersperse something very gallant when the Dutchess bestowed it; 'As, how could he chuse but be invincible, whilst he fought in such a Cause?" With several Things of the same Nature, by which the Vanity of the Dutchess was agreeably flatter'd, and her Beauty extoll'd. The eighth and last Day, he determined to run no more, but deputed in his Place, as the Dutchess's Champion, his lovely Nephew Lotharius, who for the first time appeared in Arms of Maiden Silver; his Device was a Sun, darting through the Horizon, with an Eagle bearing his young One in his Claws, who, as they soared, turned away his Sight, as yet not able to endure the Lustre, with this Motto, still alluding to the Dutchess,
The Duke Knighted young Lotharius, and presented him to the Dutchess for her Champion. She gave him a Scarf from her Waist, and bad him be sure to defend her Favour. The young Knight, animated by this distinction, carried the Prize from all who appeared against him; and the Duke was already congratulating his Favourite Sigisbert upon the good Fortune of his Nephew, who was every way regarded as the Person whom he designed should succeed him in his Estate and Honours, when behold a young Stranger entered the List, and demanded the Combat: There was carried before him the Picture of two very fair Persons drawn at length, though in Miniature. He was enter'd as a Spanish Knight, by the Name of Don Ferrand, Duke of Cordova; and his Lady, by that of the Lady Isabella de Mendoza of Castile, Sister to the Duke of that Name, who was drawn in the same Picture by her. He ran with that good Fortune as to unhorse several Knights, whose Trophies were carried to adorn the Lady Isabella. Lotharius had long contended with his Uncle, who would not suffer him to enter the List against so formidable an Enemy, lest appearing as the Dutchess's Champion, he might be vanquish'd, and her Picture become the Conquest of the Stranger-Knight; but being at length overcome by his passionate Intreaties, he suffered him to defy the Spaniard, and proclaim the Combat. Lotharius wore the Dutchess's Scarf cross his Shoulders, but unhappily was dismounted at the second Course, when the gallant Spaniard took from him that Spoil of the Field, and adorned himself in the Dutchess's Favours; which Count Briançon unable to bear, called for his Horse and Arms, telling the Stranger, he must run one Course with him, before he could pretend to bear away so inestimable a Prize as the Dutchess's Picture, which had deservedly, hitherto, been victorious. It was easy to see, upon Sigisbert's entring the Lists, that he was animated with a superior Spirit to what he had made appear the preceding Days. Some attributed it to his Desire of Revenge for the Foil his Nephew had received; some to the Honour of Savoy, which he saw was going to be born into another Land by a Spaniard; but his secret Motive was Love and Indignation, to behold the Dutchess's Scarf in the Possession of another Person, and her fair Portrait in danger of being carried away as the Trophy of a much inferior Beauty. After several Courses, with equal Fortune, wherein the Gallantry and Address of the Knight's was conspicuous; Sigisbert unhorsed the Stranger, with a very rough fall, by which he became absolute Master of the Field. He was proclaimed the Conqueror by sound of Trumpet. The Justs ended with his receiving a Heart of Diamonds from the Dutchess, who thanked him in a sensible manner, as if she was pleased at his having extricated her Picture out of the Hands of a Stranger. The Scarf was also in his Possession, which she graciously permitted him to wear at the Ball; declaring, for Reward, that if the Duke of Savoy gave her leave she would dance with none but himself that Night. As these Distinctions were glorious to our Lover, he took a secret Pride and Satisfaction to himself that he had never been sensible of before; but yet his native Civility made him not fail to comfort the Duke of Cordova for his overthrow, shewing him for Reason the Charms of the Dutchess, which as they were invincible, made her Champions such. The gallant Spaniard did not forget to form his Court by this Occasion; he said all that could be said upon so ample a Subject, by one that was born and had beeen bred in the most amorous and polite Nation of the Universe. As the Picture he brought was extraordinary, by reason there was also drawn in it that of a young beautiful Cavalier who held the Lady Isabella by the Hand, the Dutchess enquired 'who he was? and why they were united upon an Occasion so extraordinary, which seemed to demand only the Lady's appearance. ' Don Ferrand told her Highness, That it was true, the Thing was unusual, but if he had not contented himself with bearing the Picture of the Duke of Mendoza, he must have been without that of the Lady Isabella's his Sister; being the only one she had ever suffered to be taken of her; nor after the Justs had been proclaimed in Spain, would they have found time to draw another if the Lady had been so inclined; that the Present had been made him by the Duke, at the Request of his Sister, who had heard of the Dutchess's Beauty; and though the time was appointed for her Nuptials with the Duke of Cordova, she was positive to have him go first as her Champion into Savoy, in hopes of his bearing away the Dutchess's Picture, that she might thence satisfy her self, whether Report had not flattered her Highness, since it had hitherto given more to her than any mortal Beauty.'
'Reginia, who was not displeased at this agreeable Relation, told the Cavalier, she was so much obliged to the Lady Ifabella's Curiosity, and the Pains he had taken to satisfy it, that she thought her self bound in Gratitude to make him a Present of what he had not been so fortunate to acquire; and therefore desired him, with her most humble Service, to carry the Lady Isabella her Picture in return of hers, which she would henceforth cause to be hung up in her own Cabinet." Much Discourse happened upon this Subject; all that were present, gave their Judgment of the amiable Pair; though it was carried in the general, that the Brother was not only more lovely than the Sister, but handsome beyond all Things that had been seen of his Sex. Don Ferrand told them, 'It was certain, Nature never produced a more finish'd Form than Don Carlos's, such was Mendozas's Name, that the Ladies were universally dying for him; but that he carried himself equally cold to all, insomuch that he had obtained the Name of the Lovely Insensible, though as he yet counted no more than Nineteen, it was to be hoped he would not always be so indifferent.'
Thus ended the Introduction of the Dutchess into Savoy; the first Solemnities being over, the Congratulations of Ambassadors and Strangers; the Duke found himself much more to his Mind, amidst the Solitude of his own Court, where through the artful Management of Count Briançon, it was full, or empty, as he thought the Duke desired it should be: Who reduced to the miserable State of Doatage, forgetful of that Glory for which his Arms had been renowned, forgetful of the Interest of two Nations, the French and Lombards, who had rested upon his Conduct to repell the rapid Success of the Emperor's Arms, he found himself all dissolved in Delights, by the nightly Touches of the young and glowing Dutchess, who cast her innocent Arms with conjugal Duty over the enamoured Duke; and as at present she wished no Happiness beyond that insipid Embrace, so he was certain that nothing beyond it could arrive to him.
Sigisbert, who knew the Scene could produce nothing advantagious to his Desires whilst the Duke presided, and might draw or undraw the Curtain at his Pleasure; resolved to break the Truce, which upon his Highnesses Marriage had been concluded between the Empire and France; which he did so effectually, that the third Year of their Nuptials, the King demanded his Son-in-Law, as was stipulated by Articles, to appear as his General in the Field; who leaving the Government of Savoy in the Hands of the Dutchess, assisted by Count Briançon, and others the Lords of the Council, departed with all the Regret that can be imagined by the most passionate Lovers.
The Duchess, as she every Day grew in Stature increased in Charms, the Age of Eighteen revealed the Beauties of Venus, and the Wisdom of Minerva: As She had hitherto no powerful prepossession of the Heart, nor any Thing on the Part of the Duke's Fondness to displease, or employ her Mind; she bent her self to learn every Thing that was to be taught by the greatest Masters, Painting, Musick, the Languages, Geography; nor must Poetry be forgot, which as a divine Science born with us, and not to be learnt, entred the Soul of this fair Dutchess, and caused her to produce Verses as eloquent as had been composed by a Genius, not yet informed by Love.
Sigisbert, who was by much the most agreeable Person of the Court, and had Love to befriend him in those Arts requisite to conceal the Vices of his Soul, appeared to the artless Dutchess as the most perfect Pattern of good Nature and Vertue. He saw her at all times, made the Dispatches from the Duke his pretence to come at any Hour into her Apartment, even to her Bed-side, where if ever a young clean Lady have any Charms, that is certainly the Scene wherein they become most conspicuous and dangerous to others.
None but raging Lovers can conceive the Torment Sigisbert suffered from that Flame he was obliged to smother and conceal. He beheld the excessive Beauty of the Dutchess, but he saw at the same time her Innocence, and the greeness of her Years, to which he durst not trust so important a Secret as might prove his ruin; she consulted with him upon Affairs of State; but she gave him not the least Glance nor Air of Coquetry, by which he might imagine either Gallantry or his Address would be pleasing to her. What confounded him most, was the great Esteem she had for Religion, by which Attachment, she was followed and adored by the Prelates and Priests of Lombardy, who every where made her Beauty and Goodness their Theme of Applause, and accordingly haunted her Company, so that he knew not how to find any time free from their Approaches.
He had debased rather than advanced his Nephew and Heir upon the first Prepossession of his Heart, as has been said, to be Madam Royal's Page of Honour; though with a Design that he should become a faithful Spy for his Uncle upon the Dutchess of all her Words and Actions; but there were so few of them that were not regular, and, as I may say, truly Heroick and Vertuous, that he gained small Hope or Satisfaction to himself, by what was hourly related to him of her Conduct and Behaviour.
But as he assured himself that Nature had produced nothing irregular in the different Species, unless in some rare monstrous Birth, so he told his Heart the fair Dutchess must have Desires common with her Sex; and if she had not hitherto made them appear, it was for want of some happy Occasion to call them forth; he reckoned nothing of the Duke towards making the Essay; it must be something else; something ardent, accomplished, young and inviting.
He did not dispute, but all those Qualifications centred in himself, but since all, not fit with all, possibly the Dutchess might be amorous though not of him; and in his discovering his own Sentiments, if hers happened not to answer them, he should put himself into the Power of a young Person, who might establish herself upon his Ruin, and gain Credit from the Doatage of the Duke, by the acceptable Sacrifice of a Lover whom she did not esteem.
Sometimes he had it in his Head to try her Temper, by putting his Nephew (who was the most beautiful Youth of the Court, and by his Employment always near the Dutchess's Person) to counterfeit a Passion for her, which when he should declare, he might from thence gather how she would receive any Offers of that Nature when time should serve from himself; but relapsing as before into an Opinion, that her Sensibility for another could be of no particular Advantage to himself, he was careful not to awaken in her any tender Inclinations but what should be of his own Inspiring.
In this Irresolution, he saw the Campaign ended before he had determined how to proceed: The Enemy on both Sides had been only on the Defensive, and as nothing had been attempted, so there had been nothing executed. The fond Duke made haste to return to the lovely Dutchess, from whom he had so long been separated, and met in her Arms a Repetition of that happy Scene of Tranquility he had hitherto been blest with.
Whilst Things were in this Situation at Turin; the Dutchess coming forth one Day at the Palace-Gate to take Coach, intending to enjoy the Freshness of the Evening Air along the Banks of the Po, she found as usual, a great Number of Mendicants and devout Pilgrims, to whom she ordered Alms to be distributed, as it was her accustomed manner. One of the Female Pilgrims seemed astonished at the Sight of so fair a Person, and heaving up her Hands and Eyes, 'Oh God! cry'd she out, in the Spanish Tongue, What Miracle do I behold? a Person ten thousand times fairer than Report! If Heaven had pleased that this Princess and my Brother had been so fortunate to have been joined in Marriage, all Mankind must have said, that there had then been met the two most excellent, beautiful and accomplished Persons that could have been found in Europe, to have produced a Race more admirable than any Thing but their Parents." The Dutchess who understood Spanish very well, passed forwards to her Coach, seeming not to know what had been said; but viewing all that great Company with an attentive Eye, more especially the Pilgrim who had delivered her Mind in that short Ejaculation, deemed her to be a Lady of great Quality, by the Number of her Attendants, who were all disguised like her self in the Habit of Pilgrims. Wherefore when the Coach was a little past, she called one of her Gentlemen, 'and commanded him to find where that Lady and her Company lodged; and that he should then go to her and make her Compliments, that she should be glad at her Return to see her at Court, since she had Business with her that was indispensible." Mean time the Dutchess fell into a Resvery, as if it were the moment wherein her Tranquility was to end, and her Misfortunes begin; she could not put out of her Mind, the Words pronounced so passionately by the Spanish Lady. All concurred in the same Praises, the World was unanimous the Opinion of her Charms; but yet she found herself not the more happy for her Beauty, being condemned to the withered Arms of the old Duke, where she must never expect to answer the End of her Creation, to be blest with Posterity, to know the Delights of mutual Love, or the Pleasures of being a Mother. She was now arrived to a more advanced Age, which she had improved by Literature, and the Conversation of the most Ingenious; those dangerous Desires, whereof the King her Father had warned her, began to invade her Blood; and she daily wished that she were less unhappy, though without the least abatement of Vertue, or the Fidelity she owed her Lord. Full of these tumultuous Thoughts, she returned to the Castle, where she found the fair Pilgrim and all her Train waiting her Arrival: After the first Forms, the Dutchess took her by the Hand, and led her into her Closet, making a Sign that none should follow them. She had no sooner seated her upon a Repose, but casting her Eyes upon the Picture of Isabella and the Duke of Mendoza that hung over the Couch, she cry'd out with the Pleasure of one that had made a new and important Discovery, 'Oh Lord! oh my dear Dutchess of Cordova, whence is it that I am so happy to have the Honour of embracing you at Turin ; you, who have not been a Day out of my Memory or Sight, since I first became so happy to have your Picture in my Possession, and that of the lovely Duke your Brother. Tell me your Fortune, why I see you in this Condition, and if there be any Thing in the Power of the Duke of Savoy that can be of Service to you? Your Painter must certainly be an admirable Artist, since at so many Years distance, I could perfectly know you by the Resemblance, as I doubt not but I should do the same by this charming Youth. That would surely, Madam, be much more easy to do, answered the Pilgrim, because the Lineaments in him are more uncommon, and that 'till I beheld your Highness, I never saw any Thing so beautiful, which occasioned that sudden Exclamation, though I did not believe you understood the Spanish Tongue. As I travel incognito, I took that Opportunity to see you, Madam, which was a Pleasure I had long been impatient of. Alas, the poor Duke of Cordova, my Lord, to whom I was wedded at his return from Savoy, used to be in perpetual Raptures whilst speaking of your Beauty; pardon me, Madam, if I could not help being a little piqued at his excessive Commendations; I even thought that the Sight of you made him less a Lover, and not the kinder Husband: If ever any Person can be said to feel a Passion for what he never saw, it is the Duke of Mendoza, occasioned by the Sight of your Picture, which is so inestimable a Present, that I am come in Person to return your Highness Thanks for it. The incessant Admiration with which Don Ferrand spoke of you to Don Carlos, my Brother, raised a most violent Passion in his Breast; insomuch, that if my Lord had lived, and his Affairs had not been too much embroiled, they determined to have come in disguise to Turin, as to a Saint, a Miracle to whose Shrine a far off, Mankind are willing to resort to satisfy their Curiosity; and I was contented, nay, ambitious to be of the Party: But alas, three Months saw me a Virgin and a Widow; the Duke fell from his Horse in hunting, which bruised his Skull so much, that he died in a few Hours. I had then no Consolation but in the Duke my Brother, who is as vertuous as he is lovely, as good and gentle as he is brave and beautiful; but oh God! with what Troubles have I seen him surrounded; the old Enemy of our House, the Duke Landulphus of Toledo, taking Advantage of his Minority, made a powerful League against him with several of the great Families of Spain. Madam, we of Castile acknowledge one Monarch, and pay him Homage; but that does not prevent the Grandees from having a Sovereignty over their own Subjects, by which it often happens, that there are Bloody Wars between them, in which the King of Castile is never a Party, any further than interposing with his Advice rather than Authority. The Conde's being so jealous of their Prerogatives, that the least Attempt that way, would cause them to unite against his Majesty. It is more than forty Years since the Families of Mendoza and Toledo have been at mortal variance. My Father dying when my Brother was no more but Eighteen, our Enemy had been strengthening himself with Alliances, raising an Army, and making all Sorts of Provision 'till he became formidable enough to raze the very Name of Mendoza. My Brother, for almost three Years, kept himself upon the Defensive, notwithstanding there happened several Skirmishes between them, wherein Don Carlos obtained immortal Honour; and though in so green an Age, has acquired the Character of the bravest Cavalier in Spain. It is certain, that the two Families of Mendoza and Toledo, are the most noble, most ancient, and the most abundant in Riches, Subjects and Lordships of any in the whole Realm. My Brother having now gained Experience, exercised his Army, procured Aid from our Allies, and strengthened himself so far, as no longer to be only on the Defensive. He resolved to put the whole Event upon a Battle. Since the Death of my Lord, I had remained in my Brother's House a mourning, and as the Court called me a devout Widow, God only knows the Anguish of my Heart at hearing Don Carlos's Resolution; he was all that endeared the World to me, and should he have fallen I could never more have endured the Light; my Mind having been already so far weakened by the hasty Death of Don Ferrand. In this woful Conflict, the Morning came wherein they resolved to Fight, and I never stirred from my Prayers, looking up to that great Conqueror, the Giver of all Victory, for Assistance whom I incessantly implored that he would graciously please to reconcile the two Families, and put an end to so many Mischiefs. Whilst I was thus at my Devotion, News was brought me that they had joined Battle, and that a great many poor Men were slain upon the first Onset; more particularly, that such of our Friends, whom they named to me, were already fallen: In that Terror and Consternation I fell upon my Knees, and made a Vow to God, That if in his Goodness, he would vouchsafe my Brother to return Victorious, I would make a Journey on Foot to pay my Thanksgiving to him in his holy Apostle St. Peters's Church at Rome. My Prayers were heard, Don Carlos became the Conqueror, though at the Expence of the Lives of many of his bravest Soldiers. I went to meet the Victor at his return, and acquainted him with the Vow that I had made, which he thought very rash; and being not much troubled with Superstition, as he called it, though full of Reverence for Religion, he would have dissuaded me from the Performance, and promised to procure me a Dispensation from my Vow, seeing the Journey was so long, and my Strength no way answerable to such an Undertaking: But I, who had vowed with my Heart as well as with my Tongue, knew there was no Evasion with Heaven, and doubted not but the same God who had given him the Victory, would bestow Force sufficient upon me to render Him, in the proper Place, the promised Praise for so great a Blessing.'
'The Duke wearied with my Importunity, at length licensed my Departure, charging me to go well accompanied, and to take small Journeys in respect of my Health. I left Spain, I hope, in a happy Hour, I have travers'd the Pyrenian Mountains, passed by France, and descended the Alps into Piedmont; now fortunately arrived at Turin; in a much better Condition for Strength than when I left my Brother's House: So evident it is, that whatever is undertaken for the Glory of God, shall never want his Divine Assistance to carry us through the Enterprize. But, Madam, in coming into Savoy, I could not perswade my self to leave it without seeing your Highness, that I might with my own Eyes, be judge whether Renown, and the Duke of Cordova's Report, had not exceeded Truth in the Character of your Beauty. But alas! they have but faintly described it; as indeed how can Mortals paint Immortals, such you appear to me, and such you would to your self, were it possible for Nature to transport your Charms but for one quarter of an Hour, that you might view your own Excellencies in another Person. As to Don Carlos, if I had suspected your Knowledge in the Spanish Tongue, I would not have spoken of my Brother's Beauty, whose Praise had been more commendable in another's Mouth than his Sister's; yet to do Justice to Truth, all that know him must report him for the finest Gentleman of Spain."
Whilst Donna Isabella thus entertained the Dutchess of Savoy, she who was so true a Judge of her own Perfections, to which she had the concurrent Approbation of all Persons who had ever seen her, did not doubt but the Spanish Lady spoke with the same Integrity in relation to the Charms of Don Carlos her Brother. Reginia had daily sacrificed her warmest Wishes to his beautiful Picture, without further Expectations, or any Thought of ever seeing the Original; she often admired the exquisite Work of Nature; lamented her own hard Fortune, in disposing of her to a Husband so unequal to her Age; judged how happy she might have been, if she had been wedded to the Duke of Mendoza, his Youth, his Air, his exquisite Features were strongly represented by the Painter, with Passion and Life, and a Force of Expression that reigned through the whole, insomuch, that she never passed into her Closet without beholding his Picture with Complacency. In this frame of Mind was her Heart, when the Dutchess of Cordova's Discourse added new Fuel to the Flame, or rather put Fire to the Fuel, that by Nature lay ready to be kindled by a proper Hand. She grew so fond of talking with Donna Isabella about her Brother, of whose Manner she enquired even to the least Particular, that when Supper was ended, scarce could she part with the devout Pilgrim to her necessary Rest.
After the Travels of the Day, Donna Isabella slept as sweetly as Toil and Innocence could make her. Not so the Dutchess of Savoy, she had ten thousand Agues and Fevers in her Blood, Hammers in her Head, Impatiencies in her Mind, strong Desires in her Soul, and so well was the Spanish Knight's Beauty printed in her Heart, that when she closed her Eyes and strove to sleep, she thought his Form flew before her, like a Fancy, a Shadow, or powerful Idea; then starting away from that God who equally fled from her, she found it in vain to hope for Slumber, whilst she laboured under so strong a prepossession; she named it only Curiosity, she could not imagine it to be Love for a Person she had never seen; it was that she mostly longed after, could she but once behold Don Carlos, but once satisfy her Desires of viewing the most perfect Work of Nature, she should be easy; nor did she form a Wish to be farther acquainted with him than only to delight her Eye, and make that the Judge of his Perfections. Then suddenly after, Fear and Shame intermingled with a certain Womanhood, long observed by her, with the Fidelity she bore to the Duke her Lord, presenting themselves before her, for some moments buried all her former Desires, which seemed to take end and die as soon as they were born. Tossed with a Number of unequal Thoughts, she pass'd the sleepless Night 'till the Morning-Light obliged her to rise, that she might take leave of the Lady Isabella, who was ready to depart, and whom she wished in vain she had never seen for the new Disorder and Fire that was lighted in her Heart: Nevertheless dissembling her Pain, she used all her Endeavours to detain her at Court for some time, but not able to prevail, the Lady resolving not to stay in any Place longer than was required for her necessary Rest 'till she had paid her Vow to St. Peter, obliged her self by Oath, at the Dutchess's earnest Request to repass by Turin at her return from Rome, there to stay some time to receive the Honours of the Court, and to compleat the Friendship they had promised to each other.
Several Days after the Lady Isabella's Departure, the Dutchess striving to quench this new Fire in her Breast, did but further inflame it. The more Hope fail'd in her, the more her Desires encreased; 'till at length, Love got the Victory, which she still disguised to her self under the dangerous Veil of Curiosity. In the end she resolved, whatever was the Consequence, she would reveal her uneasiness to Mademoisel Lovisa, her Nurse's Daughter, some two Years older than her self, who had been bred up with the Dutchess, and loved her beyond all Things in the World: Add to this her approved Fidelity, and solid Understanding, an excellent Wit, and the like Improvement in Letters as Reginia, with whom she had constantly took the same Lessons of the same Masters, which made her be deservedly esteemed, after her Highness, the principal Ornamant of the Court of Turin. This Lady, the Dutchess carried into her Closet, and with her Eyes full of Tears, said, 'Dear Lovisa, I do not doubt, but if you have well observed my Behaviour since I left France, you have known me the Refuge and Stay of the Afflicted, whose Griefs I ever made my own 'till I had redressed them: But now my Destiny is changed, I that used to relieve all others, am now in the greatest want my self; I stand in need of Advice more than any living Creature, having no Person about me worthy to hear of my Misfortunes: My first and last Refuge is in you alone; whom I must consult in an Affair of such mighty Consequence, as concerns no less than my Life and Honour. Then she related the Situation of her Mind, and her uneasy Curiosity, as she termed it; concluding that she did not love the Stranger-Knight dishonestly, or with a view of satisfying an irregular Appetite, or infamous Desire; but only to have a Sight of his Person, from which Minute she imagined that her uneasiness would end."
Mademoisel Lovisa, who adored her Mistress, nay, loved her beyond her self, fell into a profound Thoughtfulness at what she had just heard. She pitied the light Foundation of her hope, and the strange prepossession of the Dutchess. She did not fail thereupon to advise her in all Things that her Discretion and Understanding could instruct her. The King of France himself could not have better pointed out to his Daughter the Mischief she pursued by so unaccountable and hopeless a Passion. But Fate had decreed her Words should make no Impression upon the Dutchess's Mind, whose Misfortune was too manifest to her, by the Offence her Highness seemed to take at Lovisa's good Exhortations, which was the first and only time the Lady had ever observed Reginia to be unreasonable, or warping from her Vertue. But desirous to please her even to the last Point of her Life, 'She asked her Pardon for presuming to add any Thing from her small Understanding to the vast Ocean of the Dutchess's Reason; and concluded with a Promise, that if her Highness would endeavour to be easy and grant her but two Days time to consider of the best Means, she hoped to find a Way, with reserve to her Honour and Reputation, how she might satisfy her Curiosity, by seeing the amiable Duke of Mendoza."
In the mean time the Count of Briançon's Affairs seemed to keep the same Situations, saving his Love more and more increased as his Hopes abated; he imagined it was in vain for him to make a regular discovery of his Passion, he justly feared the Dutchess's Vertue would never yield to his Perswasions, in which if he should not succeed, he might fall a Sacrifice to the Duke's Resentment; yet he purposed to enjoy her, though eternal Ruin were to be the Consequence: Therefore he bent his mischievous Head to some Means by which his wicked Design might be sure to take Effect. A whining Declaration of his Passion was necessary, but he would have it in his Power to back the Discovery by Force, if her Vertue and Squeamishness should reject the Offers of his Heart and Person; but how to accomplish so difficult a Task, whilst the Duke was in Place, he could not so much as foresee; neither could his raging Torments well know how to attend the slow Hand of Time for Redress. He had already waited Years whilst the Dutchess was in her Youth; but as her Years increased, so did her Charms; and the Count's Passion advanced in proportion to both: He was admirable well in her Favour, she esteemed him as a faithful able Counsellor to the Duke, and the most accomplished civil Gentleman of all Savoy. He never thwarted any of her Desires, whosoever she favoured was sure to be served and obliged by the Count; and as he was Treasurer, there fell out many Opportunities for him to make his Court to the Dutchess, expediting whatever Grants she obtained of the Duke for her Creatures. In publick Diversions and Entertainments, he was ever contriving something new and gallant, and which were all directed to the discovery of his Passion; though the innocent Dutchess, feeling no alarm from that Side, attributed his Applications to the Duty he owed the Duke; from whence her good Fortune in Savoy she imagined had its only Foundation.
How many subtle Inventions did the Count's Brain put him upon, in hopes that he might once enjoy the Dutchess, which he imagined would take him from the Lover's Rack? Oh Cupid! how vast are thy Demands, and yet, in kind, how easily art thou satisfied? One minute Joy, if in thy Empire the smallest bliss can be called minute, one Embrace, though not of a moment's duration, overpays and ends an Age of Sorrow and Expectation; one small Particle of Beauty, touched by the happy Lover's Hand, whether by Force, Fraud, Consent or Indolence, he becomes thereafter satisfied, as if Witchcraft or Abomination were in the Contact. His Desires asswaged, a most prodigious Calm succeeding his former Inquietudes.
Sigisbert formed several Inventions in his Mind that might succeed. Nero's Project, to sacrifice his Mother upon the Water, appeared worthy Imitation, the Duke and Dutchess going often upon the River Po to take their Diversion; but his Master being always in the same Barge with Reginia, called upon him to defer that cruel Project 'till the Duke should depart to the Campaign, if before that time he could not find one more favourable to his base Desires: Whatever he could invent seemed all to end in the Death of the Dutchess as well as her Dishonour. The Villain proposed but once to embrace, and then to murther her; since he dispaired to bring her into a Course of Evil, by which she might tamely be reduced to correspond regularly with his brutal Passion, That was however to be satisfied, himself secured, and the Dutchess's innocent Life to pay the Price of his Pleasures and Safety.
Another time he thought to bestow an immense Treasure and Immunity upon the Bandity that infested the Woods in the Forest of Arles, near to which the Dutchess often went to a pretty Retreat to take the Air; his Project was to deliver her small Court into the Hands of those Robbers, from whence he might use his Pleasure upon the Dutchess's Person. But this also was to be deferred till her Lord's departure, whose Presence, happily for her, was the sole Protection and Safeguard of the innocent Beauty.
Sometimes he dreamed of accusing her to the Duke for imaginary Adultery; and he doubted not, as hereafter, to lay his Scene so well that he might obtain his villainous Ends, and yet be undiscovered; but some more tender Thoughts prevailed, and he ended all his cruel Machinations with a Resolution first to prove the Temper of her Heart, and thence to take his Measures how to proceed.
Mean time Lovisa, busie and faithful, thought upon a Project which her Mistress too well appoved; the Dutchess of Cordova's Pilgrimage put an Imagination into her Head, that Reginia might make the same Pretence in the Design she had of barely seeing the Duke of Mendoza's Person. There was no other way to save the Dutchess's Honour, and gratify her Curiosity; should she send to acquaint Don Carlos with her fond Desires, she must by that Means put her self into the Power of a young Cavalier, who might retaliate upon her Charms, by the Offer of his, to pay her Highness for the Toil of so long a Journey.
When the Time was expired which Lovisa had taken to consider of Ways and Means, she went to the Closet of Madam the Dutchess, and desired a private Audience, which was granted with much more readiness than she could ask it. 'My dear Lovisa, cried the transported Lady, her Eyes sparkling with Fire, her Limbs trembling with Impatiency, what Comfort hast thou brought me? Be assured thou do'st imploy thy Cares for a Mistress that can never be ungrateful, and one who will hereafter consider thee not only as my foster Sister, but as a tender Bosom-Friend, from whom it would be Death for me to be separated. Your Highness, answered Lovisa, does too much Honour to your Creature, who aims at no greater Reward than the Glory of pleasing you. But what think you, Madam, of rambling? or, as the young Cavaliers term it, seeing the World? Methinks the Dutchess of Cordova's is a very commodious Vow. She has found a fair Pretence to rid her self for a Time from the Restraint in which the Spanish Ladies are kept by their Kindred and Duena's: There's no such hardship as People may think in walking a few Miles a Day, which Custom presently renders easy, especially where one has a good Will, and is every Hour entertained with Objects that are new and surprizing: What signifies wasting all one's Life in one Place? We have had enough of Savoy, let us see what Diversions are to be found in Spain, a Kingdom renowned for Gallantry. If we do but find a good Pretence; that is, Madam, such a one as cannot but be allowed of by the Duke himself, to that end methinks your Highness might also make a Vow to go in Pilgrimage to St. Jago di Compostella in Galicia, with the Dutchess of Cordova when she returns from Rome, by which Means it will necessarily fall out that you repose your self at the Duke her Brother's Castle, in return of those Honours you shall shew her in Savoy, where she has promised to make what stay you desire. Can your Highness counterfeit Sickness even to Death? which will give you a fit Occasion to make Vows for your Health. If you approve of this, I will tell your Highness, that I can so far influence Dr. Galen, the wisest of all your Physitians, as to make him of our Party, without whose Advice we should find it difficult to pass undiscovered upon the rest of the Doctors; nor will I let him any further into the Secret Cause of our Journey, but that it is undertaken in discharge of a private Vow your Highness has made to St. James, in hopes that your sterile Marriage with the Duke may thereafter become fruitful. The Dutchess was transported with this Design, and embracing Lovisa, told her she did not doubt of playing her own Part, if she could but as well ingage Dr. Galen to act his. Let me alone for that, answered Lovisa, for your Highness's Sake, I will bring my self to what I never designed: The Doctor has made long and passionate Suit to me ever since my first coming into Savoy, and though he be much the most learned of all the Faculty, a Man of Honour, good Humour and Pleasantry, free from the singularity of some of his Brethren, yet as I am your Highness's foster Sister, and chief Favourite, I looked higher than being a Doctor's Lady; but since there is no other way of conducting this Affair, I am willing to sacrifice my Ambition to your Highness's Pleasure, and am therefore going immediately to send for him upon the Pretence of Vapours. I will give him a small Ray of Hope to begin with, such as yet he has never received from me. I do not doubt of his Compliance, provided he may be of the Party, which will be absolutely necessary; for who would advise your Highness to take such a tedious Journey, just coming out of a sick Bed, without a Physitian in your Train, to have the Care of your Health? Thou say'st well, my dear Child, interrupted the Dutchess; and that thou may'st lose nothing for thy Tenderness to me, I will procure of the Duke my Husband, that Dr. Galen may be made Noble at my Return, insomuch as he is a Person of great Learning and Reputation, and which he will well deserve for his Art and Care in recovering me from so great a Fit of Sickness, as what I am just going to fall into. But haste thee to act thy Part well with the Doctor, whilst I begin with the Duke, whom I hear coming to visit me." At this she held her Head, cry'd out of her Stomach, that she was taken violently ill all of a sudden, and could not rise up to receive the Duke; who was just then entring the Closet, and appeared visibly fright'ned at the Complaints the Dutchess made. He caused her in a little time to be put to Bed, and would have sent for the Physicians, but the Dutchess deferred that part of the Comedy till Mademoisel Lovisa had concerted with Dr. Galen, who was to prescribe what manner of Conduct she was to follow. Nor was she long before she had brought her Negotiation to good Effect; for the Love-sick Physician, in hopes of his own Cure, agreed to whatever his Mistress requested, and believed himself highly honoured by the Trust and Confidence her Highness put in him. As he was a Man of Vertue, so he was very glad that his Mistress asked no criminal Proof of his Obedience; for he looked upon the present Device to be only an innocent Piece of Deceit, founded upon the Superstition of the Age, in which there was nothing contrary to the Fidelity and Allegiance due to the Duke.
Lovisa brought him to the Dutchess's Bed-side, who, what through the Anxiety of her Mind, her restless Passions, and uncertainty of succeeding in her new Project, with the want of Rest, was as Feverish as if she had been really ill, her Pulse high and irregular, her Tongue overcharged, her Eyes quick and wildly rouling, her Breath short, that the Doctor, if he had not been let into the Design, would have imagined her to be really ill. These Symptoms were so favourable to his Purpose, that he did not fear calling in the rest of the Physicians to a Consultation, especially having presented her Highness a small Bottle of Drops, which when smelt to would cause an immediate Suffocation, and with a little Address, might be improved into an appearance of sounding Fits. The Dutchess play'd the Hypocrite to Perfection, and as we may say, topt her Part: She fell from one Fit into another, by the help of her Bottle. The wily Physician kept his Brethren from touching her Hands as much as he could. The Chamber was darkened for their Purpose, under pretence that the Light offended her Highness's Eyes, and made her Head worse. The Doctors had a vast deference for Dr. Galen's great Reputation, his Skill and Judgment; wherefore they were glad to take the Symptoms from him, who read very learned Lectures to them thereupon, with a Prognostication of eminent Danger, if those Fits could not be speedily removed. When they had all agreed upon their Prescriptions, Galen took upon himself to administer the Physick she was not to take, after it had been prepared by the Apothecary; and for the first five or six Nights, sat up with her Highness, his dear Mademoisel Lovisa taking care that he should not go without Fee or Reward for his Diligence and Address. You may imagine she could not but set up to bear him Company, whilst her Mistress was in such apparent Danger of her Life; all Day the cunning Baggage was seen sobbing and sighing, her Eyes red with weeping, by which the rest of the Court took their Calculation of the Peril her Highness was in.
The poor Duke, who was the fondest Husband imaginable, and was bending under the weight of Age, could not support the assaults of Love and Sorrow without feeling a sensible Disorder in himself, especially when the ninth Day was come, and the Physitians declared, if the Dutchess had not a favourable Crisis they could not expect her Life; and thereupon advised the Duke to provide for the care of her Soul, since they found her much more likely to die than live. His Highness sent immediately for the Suffragan of the Bishop of Turin, who was a Person of great Piety and the Duke's own Confessor, to whom the Dutchess confessed her Self, the Sin of Hypocrisy excepted, with a Voice so feeble as if she were already half Dead or Dying. Her Discourse was short, as if Nature failed her, and that by little and little she grew towards her End; desiring him to have her poor Soul in remembrance in his Orisons and Prayers, and, with the Duke's leave, bestowed most profuse Charities upon the Poor, which she wholly left to the Wisdom of the Suffragan to order how it should be disposed on. When he was gone, the Duke with her Ladies and Physitians enter'd the Chamber, and enquiring tenderly of the Dutchess, how she found her self after her spiritual Exercise; she was seemingly seized with such Ravings and Restlessness, that the Doctors despaired of her Life. After she had tossed and tumbled in her Bed like a senseless Creature, she feigned falling into an Agony, and her Speech seemed to faulter. Lovisa, drowned in Tears on one side, kept off those who were more officious than was desired; Doctor Galen on the other held her Hands, and administred Spirits to her Nose that might bring her out of the present Danger; all who were there beheld her with Grief and Wonder, thinking her Soul would immediately depart. Some of the Ladies cry'd to her to call upon God; others remembered her to think of her Saviour Christ Jesus; another bid her invoke Santa Teresa; but Lovisa, more cunning then the rest, took her Arm, and shook it as if she would recal her out of her Agony; "Madam, Madam, dear Madam, said she with a loud Voice, broken with Sobs and Sighs, call upon St. James who has so often assisted you in your Sickness and Adversity." With that the Dutchess seemed to awake out of a Death-like Lethargy; rowling her Eyes to and from, with a prodigious Trembling of all her Limbs, cry'd with an interrupted low Voice, "O glorious Apostle St. James, in whom from my tender Youth I have ever had my stedfast Trust and Hope, be now my Intercessor in these cruel Agonies of Death, and pray for me to my dear Redeemer: Here I make a Vow that if I may once again recover my Health, I will my self in Person go on Foot to honour thy sacred Body in the proper Place where it is deposited."
Having ended her feign'd Prayer, she turned on one side, after receiving a little Cordial, which Doctor Galen would force her to take, and thence pretended to fall into a Slumber, which she so well counterfeited, that the Ladies left the Chamber for fear of disturbing her Repose; only the fond Duke remain'd, hovering over her Pillow, and had no Power to depart 'till he saw the Event. One might behold in his Face the Character of infinite Love, Sorrow, Doubts and Fears, among which a little Hope began to mingle, finding that the Dutchess continued to sleep, without Starts or Interuption: When she had thus kept him in suspense for two or three Hours, and that this Scene of Pageantry drew near a Conclusion, she affected to awake, and from the most feeble Creature in the World, as she appeared not long before, stretched her Arms and Legs in the Bed, as if she felt Strength and Vigour returning on the sudden, and that she were newly delivered from that extream Torment by which she had been possess'd. Beholding the Duke her Husband with a languishing Eye, who had all the Time of her pretended Slumber been devoutly praying for the Preservation of her Life, leaning his Head near hers upon the Bed, She cast her stretched-out Arm negligently about his Neck, "Now may I safely embrace you my dear Lord, she said, for that I feel my self restored again to Life, and quite another Creature, Glory and Thanks be given to God, and that great Saint to whom I made my Vow; I am now so easy, that if my Fit do not return I shall have some Hopes of living, to requite that excellent Goodness and Care you have had of me in my Sickness, which I pray St. James to reward you for, with his pious Prayers and Intercession"
The poor Duke quite ravished with Joy, the Tears running down his hollow Cheeks upon his white Beard, in that Extasie he was in knew not what Answer to make, but beheld her with such Admiration as if he were transported out of himself; he called in her Attendants and Physitians, who were surprized to see such an alteration as Doctor Galen said he found in her Pulse and Temper. The Ladies that were most divout, who had lately seen the Agony she was in, did not fail to attribute her Recovery to a Miracle; and Lovisa, no less seemingly Superstitious, next to God, would have all the Glory given to St. James. The Duke carried forth the Company with him, at the Dutchess's Request, and left only her dear Confidant with her; his Highness went to give Orders that Te Deum should be sung in the Cathedral Church. The News of the Dutchess's amendment being publish'd abroad, the Citizens, who even adored her Vertue, Beauty and Charity, made publick Processions, and offered up Praise and Thanksgivings for her Recovery.
Mean time Lovisa brought the Dutchess something to eat, for she had abstained from all Meat, but what just served to sustain Life during those nine Days that she had counterfeited, that her Spirits might seem low, and the Feint be better carried on, "Arise my charming Princess, cry'd Mademoisel, you have nothing to do but to eat and be suddenly well, that the Miracle may be thought the greater, and St. James receive more Honour by your speedy Recovery. The Shew is now at an End, we have no more Occasion of playing the Counterfeit, which, not to detract from your Highness's Merit, I do conclude was the greatest Masterpiece that ever was acted. How the good Duke sob'd and trembled, pray'd, and wept? And those sanctified Pieces of Devotion, your old court Ladies, how they laid about them to commend your Soul to God? no doubt we shall find the good Effect of their pious Ejaculations, to help us through that laborious Perigrination to which your Highness is now dedicated."
Thus the Fair Hypocrite and her Confidant play'd boldly, between themselves, with spiritual Things, the Dutchess by little and little began to taste her Meat, and to feign all that was necessary for her Recovery; she seemed every way easy, except the Torment she felt in her Mind for Don Carlos's sight, which she now rated at the Price she had pay'd for it, enough indeed to endear the imaginary Treasure to her much more than before; for who does not know that Difficulty always enhances the Value of Possession?
My Reader, doubtless, will desire to be informed how Count Briançon behaved himself, during this feign'd Illness of the Dutchess, having left him, as we did, revolving in his Mind whatsoever was amorous and cruel. Some Hopes that the King of France and the Duke of Savoy had to draw the King of Castile into a tripple Alliance, against the Emperor, by the Marriage of the Infanto with the Dauphin's Daughter; caused that Monarch to encline to Overtures of Peace. Sigisbert was justly allarmed by that dreadful Prospect, for then his Lord would have no more Occasion to head the King of France's Army abroad, nor could himself hope to find an Opportunity to govern at Home; which he absolutely did, under the Name of the Dutchess. Besides he should lose the Occasion he expected to find from the Duke's next Absence, to possess that lovely Lady: For as he had resolved nothing should stop him in the Pursuit; he often reflected upon that Tragedy to be as good as acted, feeding his vain Imagination with the airy Joy of having one Day that beautiful Lady in his Arms; wherefore, to prevent an Alliance, which he foresaw would be so fatal to him, under a better pretence, he procured himself to be named by the Duke of Savoy, as One of the Plenipotentiaries that were to meet at Cologn, to debate of the Peace which seemed to be then in agitation.
A Person of Count Briançon's Capacity, esteemed it no difficult Matter, behind the Curtain, to embroil Affairs to the height of his Wish, more especially finding the Emperor was not sincere in his Pretensions, and that he had only condescended to Treat, in hopes of amusing the King of Castile, that he might not enter into the Alliance, nor agree to the Marriage between the Infanto and the Dauphin's Daughter.
At the distance Sigisbert found himself from the Court of Savoy, almost the same Courier brought him the News of the Dutchess's extream Malady, and that of her being past the Danger of it; but as there was an Interval of some few Hours between, he put an entire Stop to the Negotiations. If the Dutchess dy'd, the Count had then nothing to do but to pursue the the true Interests of Savoy, and restore Peace to the West; which, whilst she liv'd, was a hateful Thought to him, when he considered it as the only Thing that would hinder him, by the Duk's constant Residence in Savoy, from the Possession of the lovely Dutchess. He asked his Heart, in that terrible Conflict, what Strength it had to support her loss? And whether it could enable him to live when she were dead? If so, was it not of the same force to carry him through the Difficulties of his Passion, and give him Courage enough to live without her, that he might not desire what was so contrary to her Vertue, and so favourable to his Desires? But by the false Reasoning which his Anti- Cupid presented to him, he found, that 'till he was in possession of her Charms, if she were still alive, he must still be a wretched Thrall, without Free-Will, Ease, Pleasure, or even a Cessarion of Pain and Anguish. Then a Return of Glory, and some Sense of Religion in which he had been eminently educated, that in his most cruel and wicked Resolutions would often stare him in the Face, made him wish with Eagerness for the Dutchess's Death, that he might be released from the Temptation of committing those Crimes he had resolved to perpetrate, rather than languish in pining Torment, or want the Possession of a Good, which he could only hope to arrive at by being compleatly Wicked. But this Thought did not long possess him, Self-love shewing him how hateful it was to part with what was nearest to his Heart; so that he heard with uninterrupted Pleasure the News of her Recovery, and his Desires began to be doubly inflamed by the late Despair he was in, of ever being able to satisfy them.
Mean time the Dutchess de Cordova returned from her Journey to Rome. There was nothing omitted by the Dutchess of Savoy, and consequently the Duke, to do her Honour, and entertain her in the Royalest manner: Now Reginia had the last Game to play, which was to get the Duke's leave that she might set forth on the Accomplishment of her Vow, with the Lady Isabella, a Debt that early or late must be paid, and never in better time than in such fair Company. Don Carlos's devout and friendly Sister, incouraged the good Spirit of Piety in the Dutchess; separately, and both together, they never ceased till they had obtained Leave to proceed on their promised Enterprize. The Duke never imagined so foul a Treason could rest in the Heart of so great and fair a Princess. He gave Order for all Things requisite for her Departure; she took a certain Number of Gentlemen and Ladies, such who had been Witnesses of her Vow and miraculous Recovery, amongst which you may conclude her best beloved Lovisa and Dr. Galen were not forgot; and being dress'd in Pilgrim's Weeds, by long Travel and weary Journeys, after they had passed the Snowy Alps, they came into the Country of Rousilion, and entered Spain. Then the Dutchess finding her self approach the Place, where for a long time her Heart had been fled before, felt new Strength, and her Youth and Vigour as it were redoubled, to aid and bring her to her desired End.
When they were within two Days Journey of the Duke de Mendoza's Castle, the Lady Isabella begged Leave of the Dutchess to send one of her Gentlemen before to advertise him of their coming. Upon the first Sight of her Picture, he had desired to see that amiable Princess, joined to the Report of her Charms by the Duke de Cordova. He could not imagine, but the true Cause of her Journey, being a Person of such Youth and extraordinary Understanding, must have some other Motive than a Vow to St. Jago; but dissembling his Thoughts, he pretended the next Morning to go a Hunting, and ordered some forty of his Gentlemen to attend him. He rode upon a milk white Spanish Gennet, and was not long before he discovered that fair Company of Pilgrims in a Field before him; 'That is my Brother, cry'd Donna Isabella, upon the white Horse, the rest are Gentlemen his Attendants." The Dutchess saw the Grace with which he advanced to meet them, his lofty Air, fine Shape, and perfect Beauty of his Face rais'd such Emotions of Joy and Satisfaction, that she reckoned all her Pains were more than paid, by which she had gained the Sight of the most perfect Creature that Nature had ever made. She confessed to her self, that what she had heard from his Sister in his Praise was but a Dream in comparison of the real Proof which discovered it self upon the first View; it seemed to her Judgment, that all the Beauties in the World were but Painting, in respect of those real Perfections which she now saw before her Eyes; nor was she deceived, for, though her Passion might have blinded her Understanding, and bewitched her Senses, all the Histories in Latin, Spanish, and Italian, that make mention of the Duke de Mendoza, give him the first Place in Beauty and Shape of all the Lords and Princes of his time.
The Duke, as he approached near that fair Company, according to the Custom of the Spanish Cavaliers, made his Horse bound in the Air three or four Times with excelent Grace and admirable Dexterity; then alighting, he came to the Dutchess of Savoy, and kissing her Hand, said to her, 'I believe, Madam, if the wand'ring Knights of Old, who by their Conquests have immortalized their Fame, had had the Glory of meeting such fair Pilgrims as you, they would willingly have abandoned the Launce and Shield, to take the Staff and Scrip." The Dutchess, who exceeded all the Ladies of the Age for Address, Wit, and pleasing Conversation, now wrought by Shame, Fear, and Joy, knew not how, upon the great hurry of her Spirits, to make him a suitable Answer; but at length recovering in some degree her Senses, said to him, 'My Lord, as those Knights you speak of, would, in your Words, have had good Fortune in meeting such Pilgrims as we are, so I hope the Saint to whom I am vowed, and in whose Honour I have taken so troublesome a Journey, will favourably receive my Attempt, else all our Labour will be lost, and our Journey very ill designed." As there was a double Entendrez in the Dutchess's Words, which she intended only for the Duke, she looked on him with an Eye so languishing and favourable, that he could not but apply to himself the Gallantry, or rather Kindness of her Expression. He was astonished to find such exceeding Beauty in the Princess, which neither her weary Journey, tedious length of the Way, nor parching Heat of the Sun had impaired; her Complection was of that perfect white and dazzling Kind, as rather to be bleached than tann'd by the fiercest Rays, of Force sufficient to call forth the Hearts of the most cold and frozen Hermits: Scarce could the Duke take his Eyes from her, to go and welcome his Sister, after so long and painful a Journey, though he was fond of her to the last degree, and loved her with all the warmth of Brotherly Affection: After he had embraced Donna Isabella, and in very few Words told her his Joy for her safe arrival, he returned to the Dutchess, whose fair Hand he took to conduct her to the Castle, where there was nothing wanting to shew his Admiration, and express the Pleasure he took in the Honour of her Presence.
When she found her self alone in her Bed-Chamber with Lovisa, 'Ah! well my dearrest Girl, cry'd the Love-sick Dutchess, what thinkest thou of the Duke? What canst thou say? Was there ever any Thing so excellent? Oh Vertue, Glory, such potent Charms are able to subdue the World! Ah Lovisa, if Don Carlos were as amourous as he is handsome, what Lady could preserve her Innocence? but he is insensible! even I want the good Fortune to touch him, though Donna Isabella fed my Vanity with the fond Thoughts that he was doating on my Picture: We shall see what To-morrow will produce. I have done enough on my Part by coming to seek him here, he already knows that I had no other Business, and therefore it now belongs to him to proceed in his: It is the Part of a gallant Cavalier to ask, rather than deny, to seek, rather than be sought."
The Duke de Mendoza's Modesty was equal to his Beauty; the poor Dutchess of Savoy having by all outward Gestures declared to Don Carlos the inward Torment of her Heart, without receiving any Satisfaction from that Discovery, unless by the mute Language of the Eyes; after she had three Days remained in that hopless State, was piqued by Glory and Disdain. She scorned to complain, but resolved to abandon that ingrateful and insensible Duke, unworthy her Passion and Favours, and to depart the next Morning early without his Knowledge. As soon as Day-light began to appear, she who had found no Rest, summon'd all her Resolution, aided by Pride and Resentment, she went to Donna Isabella's Chamber to take her leave, and thank her for the Honours she had received, and the Pleasure of her Company into Spain. Thus briskly and abruptly she departed with her Train, to the great Wonder of the Dutchess de Cordova, who had distrusted nothing of this sudden Resolution. The Duke de Mendoza did not hear of her going 'till some Hours after: He was greatly troubled to think what might be the Cause that she had not taken her leave of him; but after he had thoroughly reflected upon it, he found that all the Fault lay in himself; That this great Princess had apparently abandon'd her Country only to visit him, and that he had not acted the Part of a Cavalier, nor given the Lady that Satisfaction she might have expected, nor so much as made her the Offer of his Heart and Service. Justly grieved and incensed, she had not vouchsafed to bid him Farewel, which yet he acknowledged was a Treatment due to his Neglect and seeming Insensibility, he was piqued at the noble Pride he found in the Dutchess, which, maugre her Passion, could carry her away from the Object of it; he could not help applauding her just Disdain, nor from accusing himself for his ill-tim'd Modesty and Coldness.
The Duke determined, with only two Pages, to follow after the Dutchess of Savoy, and bring her back; being on Horseback, he soon overtook the desolate Pilgrim in the high Way to Compostella, he alighted, and gave his Horse to one of his Followers; then approaching the Princess, he presented her his Hand, and in that manner walk'd two Miles with her without Intermission, 'begging, among many other Things, to know what Displeasure she had taken at his House, that could occasion such a secret and sudden Departure? That if she would return for some short time, and afterwards permit him that Glory, he would accompany her to the Place to which she was vowed, and then in his own Person conduct her back to Turin.'
Her Officers having found a Place proper for the Dutchess's Repose, under the Shade of some large Trees that grew not far from the Road, the Duke placed himself by her, Lovisa taking care that their Train should not be within hearing. After several Sighs, he said to her, 'Madam, What Brute, what insensible Monster must you mistake me for, to behold the fairest Person in the World, without having a Heart wounded even to Death? Fortune had been kind to me when my Sister vowed her self to Rome, if she had made me lose the Battel, and prevented her Pilgrimage, for her Promise had then been of no effect, and I should have only lost some of my People, and have suffered in my Interest: But alas! I feel, since your coming, a War so terrible, such furious Assaults are made upon my Heart, by the force of Love, that I am vanquished, irrecoverably lost, and know not whom to complain to but your Highness, nor how I shall be redressed! I only waited a Time to speak, my Passion made me diffident: To bring me to the last Moment of Despair, you have this Day departed from me, not deigning to see me, nor appease my Sorrow by one Farewel. I lose you by my own Timidity, I lose what I can never recover nor live without, which has so inflamed my Love and Grief, that I die a thousand times a Day: Unless you resolve to treat me more favourably, you will shortly hear of me in that cruel State, where perhaps your good Nature would not wish to see your greatest Enemy: Death must overtake me; my Despair will suddenly precipitate me; for who can lose your Favour and survive the Loss?" The Duke shewed how vastly he was oppress'd with Grief, and how well the Passion he felt seem'd agreeable to the Words he spoke; he sigh'd a thousand times whilst he continued his mournful Tale, his Colour often changed, his fine Eyes stood full of Tears, which sometimes in large Drops roul'd down his lovely Face; he seemed strongly attacked by Sorrow, as if his Soul were that minute condemned to leave his beauteous Body; which the Princess perceiving, cry'd, 'Seignior Don Carlos, what can I do now, when I am already departed from your Palace? I was drove away by your seeming Insensibility; Ah! what return for the Toils of my weary Pilgrimage? I cannot be the Occasion of your Death, you are too discreet; if that should happen, my Life could not endure an Hour after, concluding my self to be the Cause of yours. Be not displeased that I can talk with you no longer in this Place, to preserve both our Lives, I would not have any of my Train perceive the least sparkle of that Fire which burns in my Heart. Alas! if you had felt but one Hour of my Pain, instead of complaining of my Cruelty, you would have pitied what I have endured. What have I not done to gain your Sight? What have I gain'd by what I have done, but to see my self slighted, and to feel my Love ten thousand times more augmented, as much as the Reality exceeds the Shadow? I must confess, reflecting upon your Coldness, I fear'd you despised my Weakness, and thought meanly of my Vertue, because I left Savoy, the Country where I reign a Sovereign Princess, to put on the Habit of a Pilgrim, and the Slavery of a Lover, through a thousand Hardships, all new to me, to gain the Sight of the Person that was dear to me. What was Criminal towards the Duke of Savoy, was Meritorious to Mendoza, such is the cruel Force of Love; and Honour binds no less, which now constrains me to depart; but at my Return from St. Jago, I will visit you again. If your Passion be sincere, and answerable to mine, I shall then think my self most happy in whatever Proofs you can give me of yours, provided we may both preserve our Innocency."
Mean time the Count Briançon, when he had been informed of the Dutchess's Recovery, her foolish Vow, and the Duke's more foolish Conduct in suffering her to perform it, though it was scarce in his Power to prevent her; for had he endeavoured it, not only all the bigotted Women, but the whole Order of Priesthood would have exclaimed against his Royal Highness for Indevotion. When Sigisbert had reflected upon the Adventures the Princess might run into, her extraordinary Youth and Beauty, he left the Treaty at Cologne depending, and with some false Reasons which passed upon the easy Duke, he returned to Turin, where he had not been long, before he discovered his Sentiments upon the Dutchess's Ramble, for so he termed it in Derision; he shewed his Master how unworthy it was of his Dignity, to suffer so great a Princess as his Consort, the Daughter of a Puissant King, to wander about the World in a sordid Pilgrim's Weed, subject to what Insults might happen, and with none but a wretched Crew of Mendicants to protect her. He caused the Council to be assembled thereupon, who so well knew how to recommend themselves to the Count, by speaking his Sense, that they unanimously condemned what they had formerly approved; and there it was debated and agreed on, That the Duke and Count should immediately embark at Final, to go seek the Dutchess in Galicia, to bring her back by Sea to her own Realms. The amorous Count was not tedious in providing all that was necessary for their Voyage, which was prosperous and short. The Wind proved so favourable, that the Duke arrived there two Days before the Dutchess; hearing by some Pilgrims that it could not be long before she came, travelling by easy Journeys with her Train, he sent the Count, with some other Gentlemen, to meet her. She was surprized to see them in Galicia, but having told her of the Duke's Arrival, she found her Heart immediately reproach her for what she had done, though she tasted no great Joy at his Kindness, and would willingly have dispensed with the Pains he had taken to follow her thither; but preferring Glory to Love, she made the more haste to see his Highness, to pay her Duty and Thanks to him for the extraordinary Care of her Person, which he shewed by the Dangers he had run in coming by Sea to meet her.
The Zeal and Devotion of so great a Princess as the Dutchess of Savoy, Daughter to the Monarch of France, allied by Blood to the greatest Houses in Europe, was an agreeable Piece of Flattery to the Priests at Compostella. When the Day was appointed for her Highness to pay her Vow, the Church was upon no Occasion so magnificently adorned; the Musick more solemn, or the Concourse of People greater. The whole Body of the Choir received her at the first Gate, and went before her in Procession, adorned in their richest Habits, 'till they brought her to the High Altar, where Te Deum was sung for Joy of her Deliverance, and then she was conducted to pay her private Devotions to the Body of the Saint. The Duke kneeled by her, and was so ardent in his Thanksgiving, that the Tears ran from his aged Eyes, he wept with Sincerity of Joy and Zeal at her Highness's Recovery: Now was the happy Moment that the Dutchess's Heart seemed touch'd from Heaven, seeing the Affection of her Lord, and reflecting upon her own Behaviour. She reproached, and prostrated, her self in Penitence for her Hypocrisy; then it was, that she felt the Love of God, and the Disdain of her guilty Passion fill her Heart with Divine Ardour and Contempt of her Misdoings. As she was naturally superstitious, she thought that it was apparently the Hand of Heaven that had conducted her Lord into Galicia, to prevent her, in her Return, from visiting Don Carlos. She told her self, that God would not suffer so good a Prince to be abused by her Disloyalty, feeling her self pressed by this Divine Thought even to the very Soul; ashamed and confounded at her Ingratitude to so fond a Husband; and weighing the Stab she had given her Vertue. Her remorse of Conscience put her into such mortal Pangs, that she could not easily overcome; 'till after some certain time spent in Devotion and true Contrition for her Fault, God enabled her to rise Victorious over her Passions; so that with perfect Compunction for her Sin, she resolved to forget the Duke de Mendoza, and all his Beauty; praising the same Almighty Power, that had not suffered her, save by Words, to exceed the Bounds of Honour and Conjugal Fidelity; resolving from that Moment to sink the Remembrance of her Lover in Oblivion, never to have any further Commerce with him, nor to suffer Lovisa so much as to name him to her. When she had thus fixed her Resolution, and once more returned God the Glory, and implored his Assistance that she might be able to persevere: She looked upon her Lord with other Eyes than she had done since her fatal prepossession, her Heart filled with Tenderness and Pity towards him, she gave him her Hand willingly to be conducted back by Sea to Turin. The same Divine Power restored her to her own Realm, cleansed from her Stain, new-born by Repentance to her former Sense of Glory and Vertue.
But as her Sin had been great, in making holy Things subservient to her Hypocrisy; God in his Pleasure and just Dispensation, though he in Mercy accepted her Contrition, was willing to put her Fault to an Expiation, by as great a Tryal, and as sore an Affliction, as had ever befallen any Princess.
The Duke de Mendoza, who had conceived a most violent Passion for the Dutchess, and who had lost her, by having more Vertue and Modesty than is usually found among Persons of his Sex, his Rank and Beauty; incessantly regretted at her being Married, and that there was no way to make them happy but by offending: Yet uneasy to the last Degree 'till he should see her again. When the time was elapsed of her Return, and he saw she did not come, he sent a Gentleman into Galicia to know the Occasion of her Stay; who brought certain News that the Duke was there in Person to fetch his Consort; and that he had carried her away with him by Sea. He knew not, 'till that Tryal of his Patience, how much he loved the Dutchess, resolving as soon as he had quieted his old Enemy of Toledo (who began after his late Losses to stir again and assemble his routed Force in order to some new Enterprize) together with Donna Isabella, his Sister, to make the beauteous Dutchess a Visit at Turin.
The Count of Briançon was very uneasy that he could not find a Way to inform himself of what had been the Dutchess's Conduct in her Pilgrimage to St. Jago: Lotharius, his lovely Nephew, was fallen sick, and not yet recovered when the Dutchess set out upon her Expedition, by which means Sigisbert was deficient of a proper Spy upon her Actions; but always believing in his Heart, that Devotion was not the true Motive to that Journey, he gathered some distant Hopes to himself, that her Temper might not be unfavourable, nor her Vertue so impregnable as he had hitherto imagin'd; and therefore waited with Impatience for the Duke's absence to make the Experiment.
As the Count's abrupt Departure had broke off the Treaty at Cologn, which the Emperor had never designed should come to a good Conclusion; he took the Pretence, and early in the Year entered France by the Way of Flanders with a powerful Army: The Duke of Savoy was obliged to put himself at the Head of the King's Forces to stop his Progress. Count Briançon, as before, had the Management of all Affairs at Home, and the Care of the Dutchess's Person, whom he now pursued in good earnest; omitting no Opportunity by his Diligence and his Looks, to inform her of a Passion, which, wicked and hardy as he was, he had not yet the Courage to discover with his Tongue. One Evening, as he was helping her to walk upon the Banks of the Po, seeing her Attendants at a good distance, he stop'd abruptly, and said to her, 'Madam, I beseech your Highness to tell me, whether it be best to speak or die?" He delivered those Words with such Emotion, that the Dutchess could not imagine his Intent, but answered him with a gracious Smile, 'I would counsel my Friends to speak rather than die, since there are few Words spoke but what may be amended; but Life lost cannot be recovered" The Count emboldened by this gracious Reply (which had no other Meaning than as she thought he had some Suit to urge, which related to his Interest, and that he would engage her to do him some extraordinary Service towards her Lord) began with a long and pathetick Harangue 'of the Torments he had suffered by his Passion for her, that he had burnt since the Moment he first beheld her fatal Beauty; that his Flame was now grown so violent, that he could no longer suppress it, but he must either be bless'd with her Approbation, or fall under the cruel Effects of her Disdain." The Dutchess amazed at his prodigious Assurance, and more at the earnest Manner in which he delivered himself, by which she had no Reason to doubt of his prepossession, finding it too true for her quiet, resolved to cut him short, and at once to suppress his sawcy Hopes. She who had sacrificed her tenderest Inclinations to her Duty, was in no danger of offending where her Heart was absolutely indifferent; therefore with a sweet Disdain, which was more tempered by Sorrow than Scorn, 'She advised him henceforth to be silent upon a Subject so disagreeable, and which was even her abhorrence; That an inferiour Person as he was, should not presume to make Addresses to a Lady of her Rank, without having first met some Incouragement from her Words or Actions; which, as neither himself nor any other had ever done, it was the highest degree of Presumption to offer sawcy Love to his sovereign Mistress; which deserved an exemplary Punishment, rather than the Reward he petitioned for. As to the length of his Sufferings, that was but an addition to his Crime; and which if he ever again repeated, she should imagine her self stain'd with the odious Pollution, and would avoid him as the Plague or an infamous Death.'
The Count was not so void of Penetration, but he conceived the Dutchess to be in earnest as well as himself; wherefore calling her Attendants nearer, as they advanced, he gloomed from beneath his Eyes, bit his Lips, and with a Reverence full of Despite, told her Highness, she should be obey'd, and that he was going to endeavour at the Honour and Happiness, of fulfilling her Commands; and then departed to ruminate upon her Words, which he found full of Cruelty and Vertue. But this he laugh'd at, and believed it to be without Foundation in the Breast of a Woman, if Love did but once interpose: He was was for some Moments confused and ashamed at what he had done, but more incens'd at the Manner of her refusal. After turmoiling himself for some Hours, he saw the Stone was cast, and that it was in vain now to retire. He resolv'd to push her to the Extremity of yielding, and if he could not succeed, either by Force or Intreaty that he would sacrifice her Life to his Repose and Safety.
In Pursuance of this Resolution he lost no Opportunity of renewing his odious Suit, he made a thousand Pretences of State to entertain the Dutchess alone; he implor'd, wept, kneel'd, spoke in the most mournful and passionate Stile, conjuring her to have pity on his Torments, to weigh the greatness of his Passion; that his Life could no longer subsist but by her Favour, which was the only Cure that could be found to all his Evils. This Assault so vigorously push'd, by a Man whose Address was inimitable, and his Person not unhandsome; might have reduced the Vertue of a Lady less resolved than was the Dutchess: But that which perhaps would have created Love in another, raised a strong Aversion in her. She was extreamly mortify'd at the Duke's absence, and incessantly prest with the Count's importunity, who bringing Letters from her Lord one Morning to her Bed-side which he said required an immediate Answer and Consultation, he bad her Women retire, and had the boldness not only to kiss the Dutchess by force, but was proceeding to greater Liberties, with Resolution and Eagerness: His Eyes inflamed with Fire, his Blood flushing to his Face, his Hands trembling with Desire, that he became dreadful to the Dutchess, who seeing there was no longer any Measures to be observed with him, started to the other side from his Arms, and with that godlike Energy, which always accompanies Vertue, when Occasion calls upon her to exert her self, she sat upright in her Bed. 'Traitor, said she to him, have I no Place to refuge from thy Persecutions; assure thy self I will this Day put my self in a Monastry, 'till I can advertize my Lord of thy dishonest Pursuit. Is this the Reward of all his Favours? Ingrateful and forgetful of those Benefits which has made thee the first Person of the Realm after himself; where nothing is withheld from thee, but me, his Consort; whom thou wouldst now defile with thy impure Embrace; his chaste Bed shall never receive another Lord; go, whilst I study how to have thee punish'd as thou dost deserve, for a Warning to all traitorous and disloyal Servants.'
The Count, who had an admirable Presence of Mind, foresaw upon the instant that his Ruin was inevitable, unless he could first procure the Dutchess's. And as a prodigious Gust of Wind blowing from the East, in a moment of Time is often turned quite about to the West, so sudden was the Exchange of his Passion, from the most violent and hopeless Love, to an implacable Hatred and Desire of Revenge. He was even going to draw his Poniard, with his own Hand, to take away her Life by ten thousand Wounds, and could have laught to have seen her welt'ring in her Blood; But reflecting that by her Death he should procure his own, he had recourse to native Guile and Disimulation: Forseeing that unless he could appease her, he should not have an opportunity to work her Ruin, he fell on his Knees, and with his Handkerchief to his Eyes, sobb'd and blubber'd out, " Mercy —Mercy and Forgiveness, I will never offend no more, I will perish by my torment and extream Passion, rather than incense my Goddess any further against me—Oh! I am all that she has said, a Traitor—Disloyal, Ingrateful, but I am also a Lunatick—Love has bereft me of my Reason—had that remain'd, I could not have acted like a Monster—Love shew'd me the chiefest Good, and taught me to pursue it boldly. Love obliterated from my Memory all other regards, the Temptation was too powerful, and my Vertue too weak, to resist it. Oh fair Eyes—Oh fatal Beauty—Born, like a glaring Comet, to bring Ruin to the Beholders—Oh charming Princess! brought into Savoy for the Destruction of the greatest and truest Lover —But since it is so predestinated and that I must fall, either by the Effects of my raging Fire, or your Desire of Revenge; let it be by that which seems most acceptable to you: Accuse me to the Duke, which will be the most speedy and so the happiest Death; I consent to it, nay I implore it, and shall be proud of dying your Martyr." This seeming Penitence and Confession of his Crime, disarmed the Dutchess's Anger. It may be a proper Question, whether any Woman was ever truly enraged at seeing the Effects of her Beauty, when she had not suffer'd much by it? Her Highness's Wrongs were only imaginary; a Kiss or two, with the aspect of greater Force, might be easily forgiven to a true Penitent, who was perhaps by his Death to expiate his Offence. Add to this the Softness and good Nature which are usually lodg'd in Ladies Breasts; the Dutchess was so far influenced by them, that she easily came to a Composition with the Criminal. He promised never to offend any more, and to endeavour to Cure himself of his hopeless Passion; and her Highness promised not to discover his Attempt to the Duke, but to pardon and forget his Fault if he never fell into a Relapse.
This Accord being made, Heaven knows how sincerely on one Side, and how falsely on the other; Briançon retired, dark and gloomy; only thus far happy, that his raging Passion was exchanged to one more mild, it was less Pain to him to Hate than Love; he would not possess her now if he might, but he would destroy her as soon he could; neither did he confide in the Promise she had made not to give him up to the Duke; he knew full well the Nature of Women, that to advance either their Charms or Vertue, or both, under Confidence, they always reveal to the Husband or Favourite-Lover, the Attempts and Declarations of others their Servants, bringing their Letters, Presents, or any other Demonstration of the wretched Mortal's Folly, in proof of their own Vertue, Beauty and Sincerity.
Briançon took care to prevent the Dutchess from giving her Lord an Account of his Temerity by Writing; not that she ever intended it, resting upon his Promise of better Behaviour for her Satisfaction, which might have molified that obdurate cruel Heart, he took such effectual Care that all the Dutchess's Letters fell into his Hands, and were perused by him before they were dispatched to the Duke; but as the Goodness of her Nature, did not produce an Equivalent in his, he cast about to satisfy his Revenge, which he found could be done by his own Head, and which did not require, like Love, that two Persons should club towards it to satisfy their mutual Desires.
We have often mentioned Briançon's Nephew and Heir, a Youth of extraordinary Hopes. In the common Road, he seem'd to have a Disposition entirely vertuous, without those bright Sallies of his Uncle, equally adapted to the Power of committing Good or Evil: Without the Appearance of any notorious Vice, he had the Levity and Credulity of Youth, and a very good Opinion of his own Desert. Cupid had touched him with so much Tenderness for the Dutchess, that tho' he was now of the Age of Twenty, and shortly to pass out of the Degree of Page of Honour, yet had her Charms secured him from the feeble Darts of any other of the Court Ladies; and thus prepossess'd, he made a diligent and admirable Servant; at all those Hours wherein his waiting was requir'd, there was nothing found so assiduous as Lotharius; the Dutchess distinguish'd his Attach, which she deem'd a well Performance of his Duty, and had therefore procured for him of the Duke, the Command of that Troop of Guards which was call'd Hers; a Post of such Consideration, that the first Person of Quality in Savoy would have believed themselves honoured by it.
This poor Youth seem'd a proper Person by which Briançon might work his Revenge. Some few Days after his repulse from the Dutchess, feigning himself sick, that he might not appear at Court, he spoke thus to his Nephew, who was come in duteous sort to attend him during his Indisposition. "Thou know'st, dear Lotharius, that all thy Hopes lie in me alone, I look on thee as my own Child, since it has pleas'd God to give me no other. I have Yesterday made my Will: Not knowing how this Sickness may determine of me, I have appointed thee my sole Heir. In Confidence of thy growing Merit, and in Hopes that thou dost hold thy self so far obliged by me, as to obey me in all Things that I shall command, especially when it concerns thine own Advancement. My greatest Crime, if it can properly be call'd a Crime, has been all my Life to have aspiring Thoughts, and an elevated Desire of Honour. I own my Ambition, by which I have raised my self to the greatest Power in Savoy, next, nay before, the Duke, whose Will has always been mine. But, alas, if I die now, what will this avail me, since I leave no Children? And thou who art my Heir, art far from being establish'd upon a Foundation sufficient to support my Memory and Name, in that Station to which I have advanced it. Thou knowest the Duke is old, absent, and every minute in the Face of Death through the Hazzards of War; if he should fall, my Ambition is to Marry thee to the Dutchess. His Doatage has enrich'd her with the best Revenues in Savoy; besides being Son-in-Law to a mighty King, and the Chance there is that thou may'st succeed our Prince in his Dukedom, since he has no Heirs, with the forementioned Interest of France, thou wilt be able to carry the Government from all other Competitors. The greatest Difficulty consists in procuring her Highness's Favour, which I judge easiest to be gained during the Life of her Lord; for being once a Widow, if she be not pre-ingaged before, so many Pretenders will start up, that I shall despair of thy succeeding in this Enterprize. Thou, Lotharius, art a handsome Youth, not any of the Court surpasses thee; thy Mistress, as I have observed, has often cast upon thee Eyes of Affection. I understand the Hearts of Women. If I live thou wilt need no other Assistance; something I have already heard from Seigniora Lovisa, who is the only Confidant of her Lady's Inclinations. Take what Money thou pleasest, my Treasurer shall receive Orders to refuse thee nothing, put thy self into the richest and most splendid Habit, appear every Day in what is new and surprizing, make thy Court diligently to the Dutchess, and a little time, will, I hope, shew us the good Effects of my Advice and thy Application. "
Lotharius, whose Heart was already wounded with the Dutchess's Charms, raised his Hopes to the Possession, by his Uncle's Address, of the Beauty he adored. You need not ask whether he obeyed his Orders, he even out-went his Wishes in Assiduity, and Admiration of the Dutchess; his Eyes, his Hands, his Feet, were all eager to her Service, which she very well observed, and without any disadvantagious Reflections, or once dreaming of the Count's Malice, since Lotharius was shortly to leave the Court, and was so distinguished by his Birth and Beauty; she shewed him a greater degree of Favour than before, which though highly innocent on her Side, failed not to elevate the Youth to the Degree his Uncle desired; who, after a Month passed in this new Play, himself rarely seeing the Dutchess but in Council, and upon extraordinary Business; where he held his Eyes down to Earth, with a feigned Humility, not daring to look up to hers: Like a Convicted Criminal, who from his Judge has just received the fatal Sentence of his Death. But no longer able to bear the impatient Sallies of Revenge, he resolved to play double or quit, and therefore called his Nephew to him one Day. After an Introduction full of Caresses, 'My dear Lotharius, said the cruel Count, thou art the happiest Gentleman in Europe, if thou knewest how to profit of thy good Fortune; the Dutchess loves thee to a raging height, and has promised to marry thee whenever she proves a Widow; but thy Youth makes her fear to confide in thee, least Vanity, so incident to thy green Years, should make thee give up her Honour to thy Companions, and she become, which Heaven forbid, their Sport and Derision. If it should ever happen through thy Means, as dear as thou art to me, I would with my own Hands revenge her Quarrel by thy immediate Death. It is requisite thou thy Self assure her of thy Sincerity. But because Courts are full of jealous Spies, and envy one another the Prince's Favour, and that Walls themselves have Ears, it will be hard for thee to obtain, by Day, an opportunity to discourse as long with the Dutchess as she desires; therefore she has promised me, that if thou can'st this Night get unseen into her Bed-Chamber, and hide thy self far under the Bed, that thou be'st not discovered by any of her Maids, for that would be mutual Ruin to both; an Hour after Midnight, when the Bed-Chamber Lady is retired to her own Bed, in the little Room adjoining, who happens to be the Countess of Briançon, of whom thou need'st not stand so much in fear; thou may'st come softly out, and satisfy her of thy Fidelity and Discretion: And, dear Nephew, pursued the Artful Count with a Smile, if you find her better disposed than you expect, push your good Fortune, for I am well assured, she not only likes thee, but is dying with the restlessness of her Passion. Women love to have That forced upon them which they most desire: They are only with-held by Shame, or else they would be as Libertine in their Desires as Men are; they take Pleasure in being deceived by us, that they may have the pretence of Force or Artifice to excuse their Frailty, which to my great Satisfaction I have often experienced. Credit my Counsel, and follow my Advice, which has no other End but to make thee the greatest and happiest Lord of all Lombardy. Then taking an Emerald Seal from his Finger, like Alexander to Hephestion, he clap'd it upon his Lips and departed."
The silly Youth, who reverenced the Count as a Father, and saw him honoured through all the Realm as a Prince, never reflected any further on his Advice, but to put it in practice; in which he found no great Difficulty, amusing himself with the Hopes of being one Day a Sovereign Prince, and at present the happiest of Mortals in the Possession of the Princess he adored. He conveyed himself under the fatal Bed unseen, and much sooner than there was occasion, where he had time to weary himself in expectation of the Dutchess's Approach, who being that Night engaged at Play later than ordinary, came not to Bed 'till past Midnight. Madam, the Countess of Briançon, was in waiting, and not long retired, before she heard the Voice of her Lord at the Dutchess's Chamber-Door, commanding it to be opened for the Duke was arrived. Reginia was just drop'd asleep, the poor Lotharius not come from under the Bed, as judging all was not yet quiet, when the enraged Count, introduced by his Lady, enter'd the Chamber with his Sword drawn, followed by three of the greatest Officers of the Court. 'Traitor, said he, I shall certainly find thee here:" With that, going to the very Bed, he even presumed to search if there were none but the Dutchess under the Bed-Cloaths; then stooping beneath, and feigning to be surprized, he pulled out his Nephew by the Hair, and at the same minute stabb'd him through the Heart, which not thinking sufficient, he redoubled the Blow; and to take away his Speech from him, lest he might have discovered the Treason, he cut him cross the Throat so suddenly, that the poor Inno