Part 32

_Henrique_, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this Nature, diverted it, by reflecting on what had pass'd at _Madrid_, between them two and Don _Sebastian_ and his Friends; which caus'd _Antonio_ to bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos'd his Friend, by appearing daily, tho' in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don _Sebastian_ would pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These Thoughts put him upon desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten the Performance of his Attempt; and accordingly, each Day Don _Henrique_ brought _Antonio_ nearer the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into the lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which _Antonio_ expected to be bless'd in her Love, Don _Henrique_ had a long and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then with her alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had for some Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don _Henrique_ in much Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes stedfastly fix'd on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he could see nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege of her Sex, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:--Has any Thing happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder which is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your continued Silence? Speak, I beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I have any Way unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed he) my Friendship is now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery; for To-morrow I must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying the generous Confidence which your noble Father has plac'd in me: To-morrow (added he, with a piteous Sigh) I must deliver you into the Hands of one whom your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing myself the Honour of becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days more.--But--I will consider and remind myself, that I give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my Friend, that loves you better than his Life, which he has often expos'd for your Sake; and what is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love more than any Consideration on Earth.--And must this be done? (she ask'd.) Is it inevitable as Fate?--Fix'd as the Laws of Nature, Madam, (reply'd he) don't you find the Necessity of it, _Ardelia_? (continued he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it? Think, you are going to your dear _Antonio_, who alone can merit you, and whom only you can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I should yet be unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and infinitely more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don _Henrique_ (continued she) I could with greater Satisfaction return to my miserable Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace of your Mind, or occasion one Moment's Interruption of your Quiet.--Would to Heaven you did not, (sigh'd he to himself.) Then addressing his Words more distinctly to her, cry'd he, Ah, cruel! ah, unjust _Ardelia_! these Words belong to none but _Antonio_; why then would you endeavour to persuade me, that I do, or even can merit the Tenderness of such an Expression?--Have a Care! (pursued he) have a Care, _Ardelia_! your outward Beauties are too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have such a Sweetness that they attract the very Soul that is not strongly prepossessed with the noblest Friendship, and the highest Principles of Honour: Why then, alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents? Why--ah, Don _Henrique_! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so charming in your Person, so great in your Friendship, and so illustrious in your Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit, continually fill my Ears and Thoughts with noble Characters and glorious Ideas, which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable Original!--But--(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don _Henrique_, why will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your Alliance, and me of those glorious Hopes with which you had bless'd my Soul, by casting me away from you to _Antonio_!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting) what said you, Madam? What did _Ardelia_ say? That I had bless'd your Soul with Hopes! That I would cast you away to _Antonio_!--Can they who safely arrive in their wish'd-for Port, be said to be shipwreck'd? Or, can an abject indigent Wretch make a King?--These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I must not think to expound 'em. No, (said she) let it alone, Don _Henrique_; I'll ease you of that Trouble, and tell you plainly that I love you. Ah! (cry'd he) now all my Fears are come upon me!--How! (ask'd she) were you afraid I should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then? Yes, when misplac'd (reply'd he;) but 'twas your Falshood that I fear'd: Your Love was what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my Life, nay, even of my future Happiness, I fear, had you not been engag'd: strongly oblig'd to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and Vows, as well as by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For which (said she) I do not hate him, tho' his Father kill'd my Uncle: Nay, perhaps (continu'd she) I have a Friendship for him, but no more. No more, said you, Madam? (cry'd he;)--but tell me, did you never love him? Indeed, I did, (reply'd she;) but the Sight of you has better instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Passion for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It must not be (return'd Don _Henrique_) my Honour, my Friendship forbids it. No (she return'd) your Honour requires it; and if your Friendship opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid Foundation. Female Sophistry! (cry'd _Henrique_;) but you need no Art nor Artifice, _Ardelia_, to make me love you: Love you! (pursu'd he:) By that bright Sun, the Light and Heat of all the World, you are my only Light and Heat--Oh, Friendship! Sacred Friendship, now assist me!--[Here for a Time he paus'd, and then afresh proceeded thus,]--You told me, or my Ears deceiv'd me, that you lov'd me, _Ardelia_. I did, she reply'd; and that I do love you, is as true as that I told you so. 'Tis well;--But would it were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?--Why, I could wish I did not love you, _Ardelia_! But that were impossible--At least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then (he went on) to shew you that I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any regard to my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don _Antonio_; and as a Proof of your Love to me, I expect your ready Consent to it. To let you see, Don _Henrique_, how perfectly and tenderly I love you, I will be sacrificed To-morrow to Don _Antonio_, and to your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest Obligation!--cry'd _Henrique_: To-morrow then, as I have told your Father, I am to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who dares not appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and therefore cannot be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I could not but think it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make him happy in the Sight of my beautiful Choice, e'er yet she be my Bride. I hope (said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compassion; and that at last, e'er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering, I mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old _Roman_ Ceremony) that you or some other pitying Angel, will snatch me from the Altar. Ah, no more, _Ardelia_! say no more (cry'd he) we must be cruel, to be just to our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and they walked into the House, where they found the good old Gentleman and his Lady, with whom he stay'd till about an Hour after Supper, when he returned to his Friend with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]

_Antonio_ was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching Day; which tho' it brought Don _Henrique_ and his dear _Ardelia_ to him, about five o'Clock in the Evening, yet at the same Time brought his last and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a She Relation's of his, above three Miles from _Seville_, which was the Place assigned for their fatal Interview. He saw her, I say; but ah! how strange! how altered from the dear, kind _Ardelia_ she was when last he left her! 'Tis true, he flew to her with Arms expanded, and with so swift and eager a Motion, that she could not avoid, nor get loose from his Embrace, till he had kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which all the Strength of his Mind could not restrain; whether they were the Effects of Joy, or whether (which rather may be feared) they were the Heat-drops which preceded and threaten'd the Thunder and Tempest that should fall on his Head, I cannot positively say; yet all this she was then forced to endure, e'er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to breathe. But as soon as she had freed herself from the loving Circle that should have been the dear and lov'd Confinement or Centre of a Faithful Heart, she began to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from her Eyes; which that Mouth that he had just before so tenderly and sacredly kiss'd, seconded with whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every Sentence, pointed with the keenest Affliction that ever pierc'd a Soul. _Antonio_, (she began) you have treated me now as if you were never like to see me more: and would to Heaven you were not!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting and staring wildly on her;) What said you, Madam? What said you, my _Ardelia_? If you like the Repetition, take it? (reply'd she, unmoved) _Would to Heaven you were never like to see me more!_ Good! very Good! (cry'd he, with a Sigh that threw him trembling into a Chair behind him, and gave her the Opportunity of proceeding thus:)--Yet, _Antonio_, I must not have my Wish; I must continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by the strictest and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don _Henrique_, your Friend, commands it; Don _Henrique_, the dearest Object of my Soul, enjoins it; Don _Henrique_, whose only Aversion I am, will have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry'd Don _Henrique_.) Lead me, lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse, I beseech you (said Don _Antonio_) that I may see your Meaning! for hitherto 'tis Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with your best Faculties (pursu'd _Ardelia_) and know, That I do most sincerely and most passionately love Don _Henrique_; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I have this Day consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake in the least, _Antonio_, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of my Life to his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her self to Don _Henrique_) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute your own most dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts never can meet. All this to try me! It's too much, _Ardelia_--(said _Antonio_:) And then turning to Don _Henrique_, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not Apostate to our Friendship! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil has been tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a Man of Honour once. And when I forfeit my just Title to that (interrupted Don _Henrique_) may I be made most miserable!--May I lose the Blessings of thy Friendship!--May I lose thee!--Say on then, _Henrique_! (cry'd _Antonio_:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of Friendship, say, Is this a Trial of me? Is't Illusion, Sport, or shameful murderous Truth?--Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can bear no longer!--Tell! Speak! Say on!--[Here, with folded Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on _Henrique_, he stood like a Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes, when his swelling Heart raised his over-charged Breast.] After a little Pause, and a hearty Sigh or two, _Henrique_ began;--Oh, _Antonio_! Oh my Friend! prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!--I am (pursu'd he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that e'er till now offended:--I love her, _Antonio_,--I love _Ardelia_ with a Passion strong and violent as thine!--Oh! summon all that us'd to be more than Man about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which nothing but a Resolution like thine can bear! I know it by myself.--Tho' there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted _Antonio_) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I will, (returned Don _Henrique_) tho' I feel my own Words have the same cruel Effects on me. I say, again, my Soul loves _Ardelia_: And how can it be otherwise? Have we not both the self-same Appetites, the same Disgusts? How then could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or Passion could have seen, and not have lov'd her! Then how should I, whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had prevail'd on you?--And now, to let you know, 'tis no Illusion, no Sport, but serious and amazing woeful Truth, _Ardelia_ best can tell you whom she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven (cry'd she) 'tis you, Don _Henrique_, whom I only love, and who alone can give me Happiness: Ah, would you would!--With you, _Antonio_, I must remain unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my Hell; Don _Henrique_ is my Heaven. And thou art mine, (returned he) which here I part with to my dearest Friend. Then taking her Hand, Pardon me, _Antonio_, (pursued he) that I thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your _Ardelia_, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss'd her Hand, and gave it to Don _Antonio_; who received it, and gently pressed it close to his Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had caus'd there.] Be happy, _Antonio_, (cry'd _Henrique_:) Be very tender of her; To-morrow early I shall hope to see thee.--_Ardelia_ (pursued he) All Happiness and Joy surround thee! May'st thou ne'er want those Blessings thou can'st give _Antonio_!--Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah (cry'd she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake me.--Yet do not go!--Ah, cruel! (continu'd she, seeing him quit the Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned away in Don _Antonio's_ Arms; who, though he was happy that he had her fast there, yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and _Ardelia's_ Attendants, e'er she could be perfectly recovered. In the mean while Don _Henrique_ had not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but wandred to and fro about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able longer to refrain her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his Ears, he came again into the Room where he left her with Don _Antonio_, just as she revived, and called him, exclaiming on his Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But when, turning her Eyes towards the Door, she saw him; Oh! with what eager Haste she flew to him! then clasped him round the Waist, obliging him, with all the tender Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a Woman's too, is capable of uttering, not to leave her in the Possession of Don _Antonio_. This so amaz'd her slighted Lover, that he knew not, at first, how to proceed in this tormenting Scene; but at last, summoning all his wonted Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her, He would put her out of his Power, if she would consent to retreat for some few Hours to a Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from thence, till he had discoursed his Friend, Don _Henrique_ something more

## particularly than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily

agreed, upon the Promise that Don _Henrique_ made her, of seeing her with the first Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent, where she was kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but it was not long before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and more afflicting Circumstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it was almost dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour's Absence; and the better to palliate their Design, _Henrique_ told her, that he would make use of her Father Don _Richardo's_ Coach, in which they came to Don _Antonio's_, for so small a Time: which they did, leaving only _Eleonora_ her Attendant with her, with out whom she had been at a Loss, among so many fair Strangers; Strangers, I mean, to her unhappy Circumstances: Whilst they were carry'd near a Mile farther, where, just as 'twas dark, they lighted from the Coach, Don _Henrique_, ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their Return from their private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field that belong'd to the Convent. Here Don _Antonio_ told Don _Henrique_, That he had not acted honourably; That he had betray'd him, and robb'd him at once both of a Friend and Mistress. To which t'other returned, That he understood his Meaning, when he proposed a particular Discourse about this Affair, which he now perceived must end in Blood: But you may remind your self (continued he) that I have kept my Promise in delivering her to you. Yes, (cry'd _Antonio_) after you had practis'd foully and basely on her. Not at all! (returned _Henrique_) It was her Fate that brought this Mischief on her; for I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but all in vain, to her. But don't you love her, _Henrique_? (the other ask'd.) Too well, and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel the cursed Effects of the same Inconstancy: However, I had quitted her all to you, but you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir, (cry'd _Antonio_, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here, without more Words, they fell to Action; to bloody Action. (Ah! how wretched are our Sex, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds of their former Friendship; till Don _Antonio_ fell, and said, dying, 'Forgive me, _Henrique_! I was to blame; I could not live without her:--I fear she will betray thy Life, which haste and preserve, for my sake--Let me not die all at once!--Heaven pardon both of us!--Farewel! Oh, haste! Farewel! (_returned Don +Henrique+_) Farewel, thou bravest, truest Friend! Farewel thou noblest Part of me!--And Farewel all the Quiet of my Soul.' Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he found he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood, for he had received two or three dangerous Wounds, besides others of less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the convenient Haste he could to the Coach, into which, by the Help of the Footmen, he got, and order'd 'em to drive him directly to Don _Richardo's_ with all imaginable Speed; where he arriv'd in little more than half an Hour's Time, and was received by _Ardelia's_ Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement that is expressible, seeing him return'd without his Daughter, and so desperately wounded. Before he thought it convenient to ask him any Question more than to enquire of his Daughter's Safety, to which he receiv'd a short but satisfactory Answer, Don _Richardo_ sent for an eminent and able Surgeon, who probed and dress'd Don _Henrique's_ Wounds, who was immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of his Recovery; but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Constitution!) he rested pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the Morning, _Ardelia's_ Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that Night, came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circumstances of the past Night's Adventure; of which Don _Henrique_ gave him a perfect and pleasant Account, since he heard that Don _Antonio_, his mortal Enemy, was killed; the Assurance of whose Death was the more delightful to him, since, by this Relation, he found that _Antonio_ was the Man, whom his Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don _Henrique_ had hardly made an End of his Narration, e'er a Servant came hastily to give _Richardo_ Notice, that the Officers were come to search for his Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old Gentleman's wise Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that they might as reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had a Door made of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close Apartment: He went therefore boldly to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of his House, with free Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which they did, but to no Purpose; and Don _Henrique_ lay there undiscover'd, till his Cure was perfected.