Part 33
In the mean time _Ardelia_, who that fatal Night but too rightly guess'd that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they did not return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in which her Father found her soon after he had clear'd himself of those who come to search for a Lover. The Assurance which her Father gave her of _Henrique's_ Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the Severity of _Antonio's_ Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she could not but retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added to her Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that _Richardo_ was constrain'd to leave her under the Care of the good Lady Abbess, and to the diligent Attendance of _Eleonora_, not daring to hazard her Life in a Removal to his own House. All their Care and Diligence was however ineffectual; for she languished even to the least Hope of Recovery, till immediately after the first Visit of Don _Henrique_, which was the first he made in a Month's Time, and that by Night _incognito_, with her Father, her Distemper visibly retreated each Day: Yet when at last she enjoy'd a perfect Health of Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged into a deep Melancholy; which made her entertain a positive Resolution of taking the Veil at the End of her Novitiate; which accordingly she did, notwithstanding all the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her Father and Lover. But she soon repented her Vow, and often wish'd that she might by any Means see and speak to Don _Henrique_, by whose Help she promised to her self a Deliverance out of her voluntary Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes wanting to the same Effect, tho' he was forced to fly into _Italy_, to avoid the Prosecution of _Antonio's_ Friends. Thither she pursu'd him; nor could he any way shun her, unless he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his Body: Which made him take a fatal Resolution of returning to _Seville_ in Disguise, where he wander'd about the Convent every Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul was within, while his inanimate Trunk was without) till at last he found Means to convey a Letter to her, which both surprized and delighted her. The Messenger that brought it her was one of her Mother-in-Law's Maids, whom he had known before, and met accidentally one Night as he was going his Rounds, and she coming out from _Ardelia_; with her he prevail'd, and with Gold obliged her to Secrecy and Assistance: Which proved so successful, that he understood from _Ardelia_ her strong Desire of Liberty, and the Continuance of her Passion for him, together with the Means and Time most convenient and likely to succeed for her Enlargement. The Time was the fourteenth Night following, at twelve o'Clock, which just compleated a Month since his Return thither; at which Time they both promised themselves the greatest Happiness on Earth. But you may observe the Justice of Heaven, in their Disappointment.
Don _Sebastian_, who still pursu'd him with a most implacable Hatred, had traced him even to _Italy_, and there narrowly missing him, posted after him to _Toledo_; so sure and secret was his Intelligence! As soon as he arriv'd, he went directly to the Convent where his Sister _Elvira_ had been one of the Profess'd, ever since Don _Henrique_ had forsaken her, and where _Ardelia_ had taken her repented Vow. _Elvira_ had all along conceal'd the Occasion of her coming thither from _Ardelia_; and tho' she was her only Confident, and knew the whole Story of her Misfortunes, and heard the Name of Don _Henrique_ repeated a hundred Times a Day, whom still she lov'd most perfectly, yet never gave her beautiful Rival any Cause of Suspicion that she lov'd him, either by Words or Looks: Nay more, when she understood that Don _Henrique_ came to the Convent with _Ardelia_ and _Antonio_, and at other Times with her Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to him, had not her Brother Don _Sebastian_ put her upon the cruel Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as I have said before) found her with Dona _Ardelia_, whom he never remembred to have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that was about six Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she fell passionately in Love with him, and continu'd her Passion till about the fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate _Antonio_ first began his Court to her. Don _Sebastian_ was really a very desirable Person, being at that time very beautiful, his Age not exceeding six and twenty, of a sweet Conversation, very brave, but revengeful and irreconcilable (like most of his Countrymen) and of an honourable Family. At the Sight of him _Ardelia_ felt her former Passion renew; which proceeded and continued with such Violence, that it utterly defac'd the Ideas of _Antonio_ and _Henrique_. (No Wonder that she who could resolve to forsake her God for Man, should quit one Lover for another.) In short, she then only wished that he might love her equally, and then she doubted not of contriving the Means of their Happiness betwixt 'em. She had her Wish, and more, if possible; for he lov'd her beyond the Thought of any other present or future Blessing, and fail'd not to let her know it, at the second Interview; when he receiv'd the greatest Pleasure he could have wish'd, next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed her Love to him, and presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her Escape; but not finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those Measures she had sent to Don _Henrique_, she communicates the very same to Don _Sebastian_, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very Night, wherein she had obliged Don _Henrique_ to attempt her Deliverance: The Hour indeed was different, being determined to be at eleven. _Elvira_, who was present at the Conference, took the Hint; and not being willing to disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in Vindication of her, either does not, or would not seem to oppose his Inclinations at that Time: However, when he retired with her to talk more particularly of his intended Revenge on Don _Henrique_, who he told her lay somewhere absconded in _Toledo_, and whom he had resolved, as he assured her, to sacrifice to her injur'd Honour, and his Resentments; she oppos'd that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible Arguments in a virtuous and pious Lady's Capacity, but in vain: so that immediately upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity of writing to Don _Henrique_ as follows, the fatal Hour not being then seven Nights distant.
Don _Henrique_,
_My Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit of your Life; nay more, of your Mistress, who has consented to make her Escape from the Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means on which she had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour is eleven. I know, +Henrique+, your +Ardelia+ is dearer to you than your Life: But your Life, your dear Life, is more desired than any Thing in this World, by_
Your injur'd and forsaken
_ELVIRA_.
This she delivered to _Richardo's_ Servant, whom _Henrique_ had gained that Night, as soon as she came to visit _Ardelia_, at her usual Hour, just as she went out of the Cloister.
Don _Henrique_ was not a little surprized with this _Billet_; however, he could hardly resolve to forbear his accustom'd Visits to _Ardelia_, at first: But upon more mature Consideration, he only chose to converse with her by Letters, which still press'd her to be mindful of her Promise, and of the Hour, not taking notice of any Caution that he had received of her Treachery. To which she still return'd in Words that might assure him of her Constancy.
The dreadful Hour wanted not a Quarter of being perfect, when Don _Henrique_ came; and having fixed his Rope-Ladder to that Part of the Garden-Wall, where he was expected, _Ardelia_, who had not stir'd from that very Place for a Quarter of an Hour before, prepar'd to ascend by it; which she did, as soon as his Servant had returned and fixed it on the inner-side of the Wall: On the Top of which, at a little Distance, she found another fasten'd, for her to descend on the out-side, whilst Don _Henrique_ eagerly waited to receive her. She came at last, and flew into his Arms; which made _Henrique_ cry out in a Rapture, _Am I at last once more happy in having my +Ardelia+ in my Possession!_ She, who knew his Voice, and now found she was betray'd, but knew not by whom, shriek'd out, _I am ruined! help! help!--Loose me, I charge you, +Henrique!+ Loose me!_ At that very Moment, and at those very Words, came _Sebastian_, attended by only one Servant; and hearing _Henrique_ reply, _Not all the Powers of Hell shall snatch you from me_, drawing his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pass at him: But his Rage and Haste misguided his Arm, for his Sword went quite through _Ardelia's_ Body, who only said, _Ah, wretched Maid!_ and drop'd from _Henrique's_ Arms, who then was obliged to quit her, to preserve his own Life, if possible: however he had not had so much Time as to draw, had not _Sebastian_ been amazed at this dreadful Mistake of his Sword; but presently recollecting himself, he flew with redoubled Rage to attack _Henrique_; and his Servant had seconded him, had not _Henrique's_, who was now descended, otherwise diverted him. They fought with the greatest Animosity on both Sides, and with equal Advantage; for they both fell together: _Ah, my +Ardelia+, I come to thee now!_ (_Sebastian_ groan'd out,)--_'Twas this unlucky Arm, which now embraces thee, that killed thee._ _Just Heaven!_ (she sigh'd out,)--_Oh, yet have Mercy!_ [Here they both dy'd.] _Amen_, (cry'd _Henrique_, dying) _I want it most_-- _Oh, +Antonio+!_ _Oh, +Elvira+! Ah, there's the Weight that sinks me down.--And yet I wish Forgiveness.--Once more, sweet Heaven, have Mercy!_ He could not out-live that last Word; which was echo'd by _Elvira_, who all this while stood weeping, and calling out for Help, as she stood close to the Wall in the Garden.
This alarmed the Rest of the Sisters, who rising, caus'd the Bell to be rung out, as upon dangerous Occasions it used to be; which rais'd the Neighbourhood, who came time enough to remove the dead Bodies of the two Rivals, and of the late fallen Angel _Ardelia_. The injur'd and neglected _Elvira_, whose Piety designed quite contrary Effects, was immediately seiz'd with a violent Fever; which, as it was violent, did not last long: for she dy'd within four and twenty Hours, with all the happy Symptoms of a departing Saint.
* * * * * * * * *
THE LUCKY MISTAKE.
TO GEORGE GREENVIEL, ESQ;
Sir,
At this Critical Juncture, I find the Authors will have need of a Protector, as well as the Nation, we having peculiar Laws and Liberties to be defended as well as that, but of how different a Nature, none but such Judges as you are fit to determine; whatever our Province be, I am sure it should be Wit, and you know what Ellevated _Ben_ says, _That none can judge of Wit but Wit._ Let the _Heroes_ toyl for Crowns and Kingdoms and with what pretences they please. Let the Slaves of State drudge on for false and empty Glories, troubling the repose of the World and ruining their own to gain uneasy Grandure, whilst you, oh! happyer Sir, great enough by your Birth, yet more Illustrious by your Wit, are capable of enjoying alone that true Felicity of Mind, which belongs to an absolutely Vertuous and Gallant Man, by that, and the lively Notions of Honour Imprinted in your Soul, you are above Ambition, and can Form _Kings_ and _Heroes_, when 'ere your delicate Fancy shall put you upon the Poetical Creation.
You can make those _Heroes_ Lovers too, and inspire 'em with a Language so Irresistable as may instruct the Fair, how easily you may Conquer when it comes to your turn, to plead for a Heart, nor is your delicate Wit the only Charm; your Person claims an equal share of Graces with those of your Mind, and both together are capable of rendering you Victorious, whereever you shall please to Address 'em, but your Vertue keeps you from those Ravages of Beauty, which so wholly imploy the hours of the Rest of the Gay and Young, whilst you have business more sollid, and more noble for yours.
I would not by this have the World imagine you are therefore exempt from the tenderness of Love, it rather seems you were on purpose form'd for that Soft Entertainment, such an Agreement there is between the Harmony of your Soul and your Person, and sure the _Muses_ who have so divinely inspir'd you with Poetic Fires, have furnisht you with that Necessary Material (Love) to maintain it, and to make it burn with the more Ellevated Flame.
'Tis therefore, Sir, I expect you will the more easily Pardon the Dedicating to your idler hours (if any such you have) this little Amour, all that I shall say for it, is, that 'tis not Translation but an Original, that has more of realty than fiction, if I have not made it fuller of intreague, 'twas because I had a mind to keep close to the Truth.
I must own, Sir, the Obligations I have to you, deserves a greater testimony of my respect, than this little piece, too trivial to bear the honour of your Name, but my increasing Indisposition makes me fear I shall not have many opportunities of this Kind, and shou'd be loath to leave this ungrateful World, without acknowledging my Gratitude more signally than barely by word of Mouth, and without wishing you all the happiness your merit and admirable Vertues deserve and of assuring you how unfeignedly I am (and how Proud of being) Sir,
Your most obliged and most humble servant A. Behn.
THE LUCKY MISTAKE: A NEW NOVEL.
The River _Loyre_ has on its delightful Banks abundance of handsome, beautiful and rich Towns and Villages, to which the noble Stream adds no small Graces and Advantages, blessing their Fields with Plenty, and their Eyes with a thousand Diversions. In one of these happily situated Towns, called _Orleans_, where abundance of People of the best Quality and Condition reside, there was a rich Nobleman, now retir'd from the busy Court, where in his Youth he had been bred, weary'd with the Toils of Ceremony and Noise, to enjoy that perfect Tranquillity of Life, which is no where to be found but in Retreat, a faithful Friend, and a good Library; and, as the admirable _Horace_ says, in a little House and a large Garden. Count _Bellyaurd_, for so was this Nobleman call'd, was of this Opinion; and the rather, because he had one only Son, called _Rinaldo_, now grown to the Age of fifteen, who having all the excellent Qualities and Graces of Youth by Nature, he would bring him up in all Virtues and noble Sciences, which he believ'd the Gaiety and Lustre of the Court might divert: he therefore in his Retirement spar'd no Cost to those that could instruct and accomplish him; and he had the best Tutors and Masters that could be purchased at Court: _Bellyaurd_ making far less Account of Riches than of fine Parts. He found his Son capable of all Impressions, having a Wit suitable to his delicate Person, so that he was the sole Joy of his Life, and the Darling of his Eyes.
In the very next House, which join'd close to that of _Bellyaurd's_, there lived another Count, who had in his Youth been banished the Court of _France_ for some Misunderstandings in some high Affairs wherein he was concern'd: his Name was _De Pais_, a Man of great Birth, but of no Fortune; or at least one not suitable to the Grandeur of his Original. And as it is most natural for great Souls to be most proud (if I may call a handsome Disdain by that vulgar Name) when they are most depress'd; so _De Pais_ was more retir'd, more estrang'd from his Neighbours, and kept a greater Distance, than if he had enjoy'd all he had lost at Court; and took more Solemnity and State upon him, because he would not be subject to the Reproaches of the World, by making himself familiar with it: So that he rarely visited; and, contrary to the Custom of those in _France_, who are easy of Access, and free of Conversation, he kept his Family retir'd so close, that 'twas rare to see any of them; and when they went abroad, which was but seldom, they wanted nothing as to outward Appearance, that was fit for his Quality, and what was much above his Condition.
This old Count had two only Daughters, of exceeding Beauty, who gave the generous Father ten thousand Torments, as often as he beheld them, when he consider'd their extreme Beauty, their fine Wit, their Innocence, Modesty, and above all their Birth; and that he had not a Fortune to marry them according to their Quality; and below it, he had rather see them laid in their silent Graves, than consent to it: for he scorn'd the World should see him forced by his Poverty to commit an Action below his Dignity.
There lived in a neighbouring Town, a certain Nobleman, Friend to _De Pais_, call'd Count _Vernole_, a Man of about forty years of Age, of low Stature, Complexion very black and swarthy, lean, lame, extreme proud and haughty; extracted of a Descent from the Blood-Royal; not extremely brave, but very glorious: he had no very great Estate, but was in Election of a greater, and of an Addition of Honour from the King, his Father having done most worthy Services against the _Hugonots_, and by the high Favour of Cardinal _Mazarine_, was represented to his Majesty, as a Man related to the Crown, of great Name, but small Estate: so that there were now nothing but great Expectations and Preparations in the Family of Count _Vernole_ to go to the Court, to which he daily hoped an Invitation or Command.
_Vernole's_ Fortune being hitherto something a-kin to that of _De Pais_, there was a greater Correspondency between these two Gentlemen, than they had with any other Persons; they accounting themselves above the rest of the World, believed none so proper and fit for their Conversation, as that of each other: so that there was a very particular Intimacy between them. Whenever they went abroad, they clubb'd their Train, to make one great Show; and were always together, bemoaning each other's Fortune, and that from so high a Descent, as one from Monarchs by the Mother's side, and the other from Dukes of the Father's Side, they were reduc'd by Fate to the Degree of private Gentlemen. They would often consult how to manage Affairs most to Advantage, and often _De Pais_ would ask Counsel of _Vernole_, how best he should dispose of his Daughters, which now were about their ninth Year the eldest, and eighth the youngest. _Vernole_ had often seen those two Buds of Beauty, and already saw opening in _Atlante's_ Face and Mind (for that was the Name of the eldest, and _Charlot_ the youngest) a Glory of Wit and Beauty, which could not but one Day display it self, with dazling Lustre, to the wondring World.
_Vernole_ was a great Virtuoso, of a Humour nice, delicate, critical and opinionative: he had nothing of the _French_ Mein in him, but all the Gravity of the Don. His ill-favour'd Person, and his low Estate, put him out of Humour with the World; and because that should not upbraid or reproach his Follies and Defects, he was sure to be beforehand with that, and to be always satirick upon it; and lov'd to live and act contrary to the Custom and Usage of all Mankind besides.
He was infinitely delighted to find a Man of his own Humour in _De Pais_, or at least a Man that would be persuaded to like his so well, to live up to it; and it was no little Joy and Satisfaction to him to find, that he kept his Daughters in that Severity, which was wholly agreeable to him, and so contrary to the Manner and Fashion of the _French_ Quality; who allow all Freedoms, which to _Vernole's_ rigid Nature, seem'd as so many Steps to Vice, and in his Opinion, the Ruiner of all Virtue and Honour in Womankind. _De Pais_ was extremely glad his Conduct was so well interpreted, which was no other in him than a proud Frugality; who, because they could not appear in so much Gallantry as their Quality required, kept 'em retir'd, and unseen to all, but his
## particular Friends, of whom _Vernole_ was the chief.
_Vernole_ never appear'd before _Atlante_ (which was seldom) but he assum'd a Gravity and Respect fit to have entertain'd a Maid of Twenty, or rather a Matron of much greater Years and Judgment. His Discourses were always of Matters of State or Philosophy; and sometimes when _De Pais_ would (laughing) say, 'He might as well entertain _Atlante_ with _Greek_ and _Hebrew_,' he would reply gravely, 'You are mistaken, Sir, I find the Seeds of great and profound Matter in the Soul of this young Maid, which ought to be nourish'd now while she is young, and they will grow up to very great Perfection: I find _Atlante_ capable of the noble Virtues of the Mind, and am infinitely mistaken in my Observations, and Art of Physiognomy, if _Atlante_ be not born for greater Things than her Fortune does now Promise: She will be very considerable in the World, (believe me) and this will arrive to her perfectly from the Force of her Charms.' _De Pais_ was extremely overjoy'd to hear such Good prophesied of _Atlante_, and from that Time set a sort of an Esteem upon her, which he did not on _Charlot_ his younger; whom, by the Persuasions of _Vernole_, he resolv'd to put in a Monastery, that what he had might descend to _Atlante_: not but he confess'd _Charlot_ had Beauty extremely attractive, and a Wit that promised much, when it should be cultivated by Years and Experience; and would shew it self with great Advantage and Lustre in a Monastery. All this pleased _De Pais_ very well, who was easily persuaded, since he had not a Fortune to marry her well in the World.