Incognita; Or, Love and Duty Reconcil'd Part 1

Incognita.

by William Congreve.

TO THE Honoured and Worthily Esteem'd Mrs. _Katharine Leveson_.

_Madam_,

A Clear Wit, sound Judgment and a Merciful Disposition, are things so rarely united, that it is almost inexcusable to entertain them with any thing less excellent in its kind. My knowledge of you were a sufficient Caution to me, to avoid your Censure of this Trifle, had I not as intire a knowledge of your Goodness. Since I have drawn my Pen for a Rencounter, I think it better to engage where, though there be Skill enough to Disarm me, there is too much Generosity to Wound; for so shall I have the saving Reputation of an unsuccessful Courage, if I cannot make it a drawn Battle. But methinks the Comparison intimates something of a Defiance, and savours of Arrogance; wherefore since I am Conscious to my self of a Fear which I cannot put off, let me use the Policy of Cowards and lay this Novel unarm'd, naked and shivering at your Feet, so that if it should want Merit to challenge Protection, yet, as an Object of Charity, it may move Compa.s.sion. It has been some Diversion to me to Write it, I wish it may prove such to you when you have an hour to throw away in Reading of it: but this Satisfaction I have at least beforehand, that in its greatest failings it may fly for Pardon to that Indulgence which you owe to the weakness of your Friend; a t.i.tle which I am proud you have thought me worthy of, and which I think can alone be superior to that

_Your most Humble and_ _Obliged Servant_ CLEOPHIL.

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.

Reader,

Some Authors are so fond of a Preface, that they will write one tho'

there be nothing more in it than an Apology for its self. But to show thee that I am not one of those, I will make no Apology for this, but do tell thee that I think it necessary to be prefix'd to this Trifle, to prevent thy overlooking some little pains which I have taken in the Composition of the following Story. Romances are generally composed of the Constant Loves and invincible Courages of Hero's, Heroins, Kings and Queens, Mortals of the first Rank, and so forth; where lofty Language, miraculous Contingencies and impossible Performances, elevate and surprize the Reader into a giddy Delight, which leaves him flat upon the Ground whenever he gives of, and vexes him to think how he has suffer'd himself to be pleased and transported, concern'd and afflicted at the several Pa.s.sages which he has Read, viz. these Knights Success to their Damosels Misfortunes, and such like, when he is forced to be very well convinced that 'tis all a lye. Novels are of a more familiar nature; Come near us, and represent to us Intrigues in practice, delight us with Accidents and odd Events, but not such as are wholly unusual or unpresidented, such which not being so distant from our Belief bring also the pleasure nearer us. Romances give more of Wonder, Novels more Delight. And with reverence be it spoken, and the Parallel kept at due distance, there is something of equality in the Proportion which they bear in reference to one another, with that betwen Comedy and Tragedy; but the Drama is the long extracted from Romance and History: 'tis the Midwife to Industry, and brings forth alive the Conceptions of the Brain.

Minerva walks upon the Stage before us, and we are more a.s.sured of the real presence of Wit when it is delivered viva voce--

Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, & quae Ipse sibi tradit spectator.--Horace.

Since all Traditions must indisputably give place to the Drama, and since there is no possibility of giving that life to the Writing or Repet.i.tion of a Story which it has in the Action, I resolved in another beauty to imitate Dramatick Writing, namely, in the Design, Contexture and Result of the Plot. I have not observed it before in a Novel. Some I have seen begin with an unexpected accident, which has been the only surprizing part of the Story, cause enough to make the Sequel look flat, tedious and insipid; for 'tis but reasonable the Reader should expect it not to rise, at least to keep upon a level in the entertainment; for so he may be kept on in hopes that at some time or other it may mend; but the 'tother is such a balk to a Man, 'tis carrying him up stairs to show him the Dining- Room, and after forcing him to make a Meal in the Kitchin. This I have not only endeavoured to avoid, but also have used a method for the contrary purpose. The design of the Novel is obvious, after the first meeting of Aurelian and Hippolito with Incognita and Leonora, and the difficulty is in bringing it to pa.s.s, maugre all apparent obstacles, within the compa.s.s of two days. How many probable Casualties intervene in opposition to the main Design, viz. of marrying two Couple so oddly engaged in an intricate Amour, I leave the Reader at his leisure to consider: As also whether every Obstacle does not in the progress of the Story act as subservient to that purpose, which at first it seems to oppose. In a Comedy this would be called the Unity of Action; here it may pretend to no more than an Unity of Contrivance. The Scene is continued in Florence from the commencement of the Amour; and the time from first to last is but three days. If there be any thing more in particular resembling the Copy which I imitate (as the Curious Reader will soon perceive) I leave it to show it self, being very well satisfy'd how much more proper it had been for him to have found out this himself, than for me to prepossess him with an Opinion of something extraordinary in an Essay began and finished in the idler hours of a fortnight's time: for I can only esteem it a laborious idleness, which is Parent to so inconsiderable a Birth. I have gratified the Bookseller in pretending an occasion for a Preface; the other two Persons concern'd are the Reader and my self, and if he be but pleased with what was produced for that end, my satisfaction follows of course, since it will be proportion'd to his Approbation or Dislike.

INCOGNITA: OR, Love & Duty RECONCIL'D

Aurelian was the only Son to a Princ.i.p.al Gentleman of Florence. The Indulgence of his Father prompted, and his Wealth enabled him, to bestow a generous Education upon him, whom, he now began to look upon as the Type of himself; an Impression he had made in the Gayety and Vigour of his Youth, before the Rust of Age had debilitated and obscur'd the Splendour of the Original: He was sensible, That he ought not to be sparing in the Adornment of him, if he had Resolution to beautifie his own Memory. Indeed Don Fabio (for so was the Old Gentleman call'd) has been observ'd to have fix'd his Eyes upon Aurelian, when much Company has been at Table, and have wept through Earnestness of Intention, if nothing hapned to divert the Object; whether it were for regret, at the Recollection of his former self, or for the Joy he conceiv'd in being, as it were, reviv'd in the Person of his Son, I never took upon me to enquire, but suppos'd it might be sometimes one, and sometimes both together.

Aurelian, at the Age of Eighteen Years, wanted nothing (but a Beard) that the most accomplished Cavalier in Florence could pretend to: he had been Educated from Twelve Years old at Siena, where it seems his Father kept a Receiver, having a large Income from the Rents of several Houses in that Town. Don Fabio gave his Servant Orders, That Aurelian should not be stinted in his Expences, when he came up to Years of Discretion. By which means he was enabled, not only to keep Company with, but also to confer many Obligations upon Strangers of Quality, and Gentlemen who travelled from other Countries into Italy, of which Siena never wanted store, being a Town most delightfully Situate, upon a n.o.ble Hill, and very well suiting with Strangers at first, by reason of the agreeableness and purity of the Air: There also is the quaintness and delicacy of the Italian Tongue most likely to be learned, there being many publick Professors of it in that place; and indeed the very Vulgar of Siena do express themselves with an easiness and sweetness surprizing, and even grateful to their Ears who understand not the Language.

Here Aurelian contracted an acquaintance with Persons of Worth of several Countries, but among the rest an intimacy with a Gentleman of Quality of Spain, and Nephew to the Archbishop of Toledo, who had so wrought himself into the Affections of Aurelian, through a Conformity of Temper, an Equality in Years, and something of resemblance in Feature and Proportion, that he look'd upon him as his second self. Hippolito, on the other hand, was not ungrateful in return of Friendship, but thought himself either alone or in ill Company, if Aurelian were absent: but his Uncle having sent him to travel, under the Conduct of a Governour, and the two Years which limited his stay at Siena being expired, he was put in mind of his departure. His Friend grew melancholy at the News, but considering that Hippolito had never seen Florence, he easily prevailed with him to make his first journey thither, whither he would accompany him, and perhaps prevail with his Father to do the like throughout his Travels.

They accordingly set out, but not being able easily to reach Florence the same Night, they rested a League or two short, at a Villa of the great Duke's called Poggio Imperiale, where they were informed by some of his Highness's Servants, That the Nuptials of Donna Catharina (near Kinswoman to the great Duke) and Don Ferdinand de Rovori, were to be solemnized the next day, and that extraordinary Preparations had been making for some time past, to ill.u.s.trate the Solemnity with b.a.l.l.s and Masques, and other Divertis.e.m.e.nts; that a Tilting had been proclaimed, and to that purpose Scaffolds erected around the s.p.a.cious Court, before the Church Di Santa Croce, where were usually seen all Cavalcades and Shews, performed by a.s.semblies of the Young n.o.bility: That all Mechanicks and Tradesmen were forbidden to work or expose any Goods to Sale for the s.p.a.ce of three days; during which time all Persons should be entertain'd at the Great Duke's Cost; and publick Provision was to be made for the setting forth and furnishing a mult.i.tude of Tables, with Entertainment for all Comers and Goers, and several Houses appointed for that use in all Streets.

This Account alarm'd the Spirits of our Young Travellers, and they were overjoy'd at the prospect of Pleasures they foresaw. Aurelian could not contain the satisfaction he conceiv'd in the welcome Fortune had prepar'd for his dear Hippolito. In short, they both remembred so much of the pleasing Relation had been made them, that they forgot to sleep, and were up as soon as it was light, pounding at poor Signior Claudio's Door (so was Hippolito's Governour call'd) to rouse him, that no time might be lost till they were arriv'd at Florence, where they would furnish themselves with Disguises and other Accoutrements necessary for the Prosecution of their Design of sharing in the publick Merriment; the rather were they for going so early because Aurelian did not think fit to publish his being in Town for a time, least his Father knowing of it, might give some restraint to that loose they designed themselves.

Before Sun rise they entred Florence at Porta Romana, attended only by two Servants, the rest being left behind to avoid notice; but, alas! they needed not to have used half that caution; for early as it was, the Streets were crowded with all sorts of People pa.s.sing to and fro, and every Man employ'd in something relating to the Diversions to come; so that no notice was taken of any body; a Marquess and his Train might have pa.s.s'd by as unregarded as a single Fachin or Cobler. Not a Window in the Streets but echoed the tuning of a Lute or thrumming of a Gitarr: for, by the way, the Inhabitants of Florence are strangely addicted to the love of Musick, insomuch that scarce their Children can go, before they can scratch some Instrument or other. It was no unpleasing Spectacle to our Cavaliers (who, seeing they were not observ'd, resolved to make Observations) to behold the Diversity of Figures and Postures of many of these Musicians. Here you should have an affected Vallet, who Mimick'd the Behaviour of his Master, leaning carelessly against the Window, with his Head on one side, in a languishing Posture, whining, in a low, mournful Voice, some dismal Complaint; while, from his sympathizing Theorbo, issued a Base no less doleful to the Hearers. In Opposition to him was set up perhaps a Cobler, with the wretched Skeleton of a Gitarr, battered and waxed together by his own Industry, and who with three Strings out of Tune, and his own tearing hoa.r.s.e Voice, would rack attention from the Neighbourhood, to the great affliction of many more moderate Pract.i.tioners, who, no doubt, were full as desirous to be heard. By this time Aurelian's Servant had taken a Lodging and was returned, to give his Master an Account of it. The Cavaliers grown weary of that ridiculous Entertainment, which was diverting at first sight, retired whither the Lacquey conducted them; who, according to their Directions, had sought out one of the most obscure Streets in the City.

All that day, to the evening, was spent in sending from one Brokers Shop to another, to furnish them with Habits, since they had not time to make any new.

There was, it happened, but one to be got Rich enough to please our young Gentlemen, so many were taken up upon this occasion. While they were in Dispute and Complementing one another, (Aurelian protesting that Hippolito should wear it, and he, on 'tother hand, forswearing it as bitterly) a Servant of Hippolito's came up and ended the Controversie; telling them, That he had met below with the Vallet de Chambre of a Gentleman, who was one of the greatest Gallants about the Town, but was at this time in such a condition he could not possibly be at the Entertainment; whereupon the Vallet had designed to dress himself up in his Master's Apparel, and try his talent at Court; which he hearing, told him he would inform him how he might bestow the Habit for some time much more to his profit if not to his pleasure, so acquainted him with the occasion his Master had for it. Hippolito sent for the Fellow up, who was not so fond of his design as not to be bought off it, but upon having his own demand granted for the use of it, brought it; it was very Rich, and upon tryal, as fit for Hippolito as if it had been made for him. The Ceremony was performed in the Morning, in the great Dome, with all magnificence correspondent to the wealth of the great Duke, and the esteem he had for the n.o.ble Pair. The next Morning was to be a Tilting, and the same Night a Masquing Ball at Court. To omit the Description of the universal Joy, (that had diffus'd it self through all the Conduits of Wine, which convey'd it in large measures to the People) and only relate those effects of it which concern our present Adventurers. You must know, that about the fall of the Evening, and at that time when the _aequilibrium_ of Day and Night, for some time, holds the Air in a gloomy suspence between an unwillingness to leave the light, and a natural impulse into the Dominion of darkness, about this time our Hero's, shall I say, sally'd or slunk out of their Lodgings, and steer'd toward the great Palace, whither, before they were arrived, such a prodigious number of Torches were on fire, that the day, by help of these Auxiliary Forces, seem'd to continue its Dominion; the Owls and Bats apprehending their mistake, in counting the hours, retir'd again to a convenient darkness; for Madam Night was no more to be seen than she was to be heard; and the Chymists were of Opinion, That her fuliginous Damps, rarefy'd by the abundance of Flame, were evaporated.

Now the Reader I suppose to be upon Thorns at this and the like impertinent Digressions, but let him alone and he'll come to himself; at which time I think fit to acquaint him, that when I digress, I am at that time writing to please my self, when I continue the Thread of the Story, I write to please him; supposing him a reasonable Man, I conclude him satisfied to allow me this liberty, and so I proceed.

If our Cavaliers were dazled at the splendour they beheld without doors, what surprize, think you, must they be in, when entering the Palace they found even the lights there to be but so many foils to the bright eyes that flash'd upon 'em at every turn.

A more glorious Troop no occasion ever a.s.sembled; all the fair of Florence, with the most accomplished Cavaliers, were present; and however Nature had been partial in bestowing on some better Faces than others, Art was alike indulgent to all, and industriously supplyed those Defects she had left, giving some Addition also to her greatest Excellencies.

Every body appear'd well shap'd, as it is to be suppos'd, none who were conscious to themselves of any visible Deformity would presume to come thither. Their Apparel was equally glorious, though each differing in fancy. In short, our Strangers were so well bred, as to conclude from these apparent Perfections, that there was not a Masque which did not at least hide the Face of a Cherubim. Perhaps the Ladies were not behind hand in return of a favourable Opinion of them: for they were both well dress'd, and had something inexpressibly pleasing in their Air and Mien, different from other People, and indeed differing from one another. They fansy'd that while they stood together they were more particularly taken notice of than any in the Room, and being unwilling to be taken for Strangers, which they thought they were, by reason of some whispering they observed near them, they agreed upon an hour of meeting after the company should be broke up, and so separately mingled with the thickest of the a.s.sembly. Aurelian had fixed his eye upon a Lady whom he had observ'd to have been a considerable time in close whisper with another Woman; he expected with great impatience the result of that private Conference, that he might have an opportunity of engaging the Lady whose Person was so agreeable to him. At last he perceived they were broke off, and the 'tother Lady seem'd to have taken her leave. He had taken no small pains in the mean time to put himself in a posture to accost the Lady, which, no doubt, he had happily performed had he not been interrupted; but scarce had he acquitted himself of a preliminary bow (and which, I have heard him say, was the lowest that ever he made) and had just opened his Lips to deliver himself of a small Complement, which, nevertheless he was very big with, when he unluckily miscarried, by the interposal of the same Lady, whose departure, not long before, he had so zealously pray'd for: but, as Providence would have it, there was only some very small matter forgot, which was recovered in a short whisper.

The Coast being again cleared, he took heart and bore up, and, striking sail, repeated his Ceremony to the Lady; who, having Obligingly returned it, he accosted her in these or the like words:

'If I do not usurp a priviledge reserved for some one more happy in your acquaintance, may I presume, Madam, to entreat (for a while) the favour of your Conversation, at least till the arrival of whom you expect, provided you are not tired of me before; for then upon the least intimation of uneasiness, I will not fail of doing my self the violence to withdraw for your release. The Lady made him answer, she did not expect any body; by which he might imagine her Conversation not of value to be bespoke, and to afford it him, were but farther to convince him to her own cost. He reply'd, 'She had already said enough to convince him of something he heartily wished might not be to his cost in the end. She pretended not to understand him; but told him, 'If he already found himself grieved with her Conversation, he would have sufficient reason to repent the rashness of his first Demand before they had ended: for that now she intended to hold discourse with him, on purpose to punish his unadvisedness, in presuming upon a Person whose dress and mien might not (may be) be disagreeable to have wit. 'I must confess (reply'd Aurelian) my self guilty of a Presumption, and willingly submit to the punishment you intend: and though it be an aggravation of a Crime to persevere in its justification, yet I cannot help defending an Opinion in which now I am more confirm'd, that probable conjectures may be made of the ingenious Disposition of the Mind, from the fancy and choice of Apparel. The humour I grant ye (said the Lady) or const.i.tution of the Person whether melancholick or brisk; but I should hardly pa.s.s my censure upon so slight an indication of wit: for there is your brisk fool as well as your brisk man of sense, and so of the melancholick. I confess 'tis possible a fool may reveal himself by his Dress, in wearing something extravagantly singular and ridiculous, or in preposterous suiting of colours; but a decency of Habit (which is all that Men of best sense pretend to) may be acquired by custom and example, without putting the Person to a superfluous expence of wit for the contrivance; and though there should be occasion for it, few are so unfortunate in their Relations and Acquaintance not to have some Friend capable of giving them advice, if they are not too ignorantly conceited to ask it. Aurelian was so pleased with the easiness and smartness of her Expostulation, that he forgot to make a reply, when she seem'd to expect it; but being a Woman of a quick Apprehension, and justly sensible of her own perfections, she soon perceived he did not grudge his attention. However she had a mind to put it upon him to turn the discourse, so went on upon the same Subject.

'Signior (said she) I have been looking round me, and by your Maxim I cannot discover one fool in the Company; for they are all well drest.

This was spoken with an Air of Rallery that awakened the Cavalier, who immediately made answer: 'Tis true, Madam, we see there may be as much variety of good fancies as of faces, yet there may be many of both kinds borrowed and adulterate if inquired into; and as you were pleased to observe, the invention may be Foreign to the Person who puts it in practice; and as good an Opinion as I have of an agreeable Dress, I should be loth to answer for the wit of all about us. I believe you (says the Lady) and hope you are convinced of your error, since you must allow it impossible to tell who of all this a.s.sembly did or did not make choice of their own Apparel. Not all (said Aurelian) there is an ungainness in some which betrays them. 'Look ye there (says he) pointing to a Lady who stood playing with the Ta.s.sels of her Girdle, I dare answer for that Lady, though she be very well dress'd, 'tis more than she knows.

His fair unknown could not forbear laughing at his particular distinction, and freely told him, he had indeed light upon one who knew as little as any body in the Room, her self excepted. Ah! Madam, (reply'd Aurelian) you know every thing in the World but your own Perfections, and you only know not those because 'tis the top of Perfection not to know them. How? (reply'd the Lady) I thought it had been the extremity of knowledge to know ones self. Aurelian had a little over-strain'd himself in that Complement, and I am of Opinion would have been puzzl'd to have brought himself off readily: but by good fortune the Musick came into the Room and gave him an opportunity to seem to decline an answer, because the company prepared to dance: he only told her he was too mean a Conquest for her wit who was already a Slave to the Charms of her Person. She thanked him for his Complement, and briskly told him she ought to have made him a return in praise of his wit, but she hoped he was a Man more happy than to be dissatisfy'd with any of his own Endowments; and if it were so, that he had not a just Opinion of himself, she knew her self incapable of saying any thing to beget one. Aurelian did not know well what to make of this last reply; for he always abhor'd any thing that was conceited, with which this seem'd to reproach him. But however modest he had been heretofore in his own thoughts, yet never was he so distrustful of his good behaviour as now, being rally'd so by a Person whom he took to be of judgment: Yet he resolved to take no notice, but with an Air unconcerned and full of good humour entreated her to Dance with him: She promised him to Dance with no body else, nor I believe had she inclination; for notwithstanding her tartness, she was upon equal terms with him as to the liking of each others Person and Humour, and only gave those little hints to try his Temper; there being certainly no greater sign of folly and ill breeding, than to grow serious and concerned at any thing spoken in rallery: for his part, he was strangely and insensibly fallen in love with her Shape, Wit and Air; which, together with a white Hand, he had seen (perhaps not accidentally) were enough to have subdued a more stubborn Heart than ever he was master of; and for her Face, which he had not seen, he bestowed upon her the best his Imagination could furnish him with. I should by right now describe her Dress, which was extreamly agreeable and rich, but 'tis possible I might err in some material Pin or other, in the sticking of which may be the whole grace of the Drapery depended. Well, they danced several times together, and no less to the satisfaction of the whole Company, than of themselves; for at the end of each Dance, some publick note of Applause or other was given to the graceful Couple.

Aurelian was amaz'd, that among all that danced or stood in view he could not see Hippolito; but concluding that he had met with some pleasing Conversation, and was withdrawn to some retired part of the Room, he forbore his search till the mirth of that Night should be over, and the Company ready to break up, where we will leave him for a while, to see what became of his adventurous Friend.

Hippolito, a little after he had parted with Aurelian, was got among a knot of Ladies and Cavaliers, who were looking upon a large Gold Cup set with Jewels, in which his Royal Highness had drank to the prosperity of the new married Couple at Dinner, and which afterward he presented to his Cousin Donna Catharina. He among the rest was very intent, admiring the richness, workmanship and beauty of the Cup, when a Lady came behind him and pulling him by the Elbow, made a sign she would speak with him; Hippolito, who knew himself an utter Stranger to Florence and every body in it, immediately guessed she had mistaken him for her acquaintance, as indeed it happened; however he resolved not to discover himself till he should be a.s.sured of it; having followed her into a set Window remote from Company, she address'd her self to him in this manner: 'Signior Don Lorenzo (said she) I am overjoy'd to see you are so speedily recovered of your Wounds, which by report were much more dangerous than to have suffered your coming abroad so soon; but I must accuse you of great indiscretion, in appearing in a Habit which so many must needs remember you to have worn upon the like occasion not long ago, I mean at the Marriage of Don Cynthio with your Sister Atalanta; I do a.s.sure you, you were known by it, both to Juliana and my self, who was so far concerned for you, as to desire me to tell you, that her Brother Don Fabritio (who saw you when you came in with another Gentleman) had eyed you very narrowly, and is since gone out of the Room, she knows not upon what design; however she would have you, for your own sake, be advised and circ.u.mspect when you depart this place, lest you should be set upon unawares; you know the hatred Don Fabritio has born you ever since you had the fortune to kill his Kinsman in a Duel: Here she paused as if expecting his reply; but Hippolito was so confounded, that he stood mute, and contemplating the hazard he had ignorantly brought himself into, forgot his design of informing the Lady of her mistake. She finding he made her no Answer, went on. 'I perceive (continued she) you are in some surprize at what I have related, and may be, are doubtful of the Truth; but I thought you had been better acquainted with your Cousin Leonora's Voice, than to have forgot it so soon: Yet in Complaisance to your ill Memory, I will put you past doubt, by shewing you my Face; with that she pulled off her Mask, and discovered to Hippolito (now more amaz'd than ever) the most Angelick Face that he had ever beheld. He was just about to have made her some answer, when, clapping on her Mask again without giving him time, she happily for him pursu'd her Discourse. (For 'tis odds but he had made some discovery of himself in the surprize he was in.) Having taken him familiarly by the Hand, now she had made her self known to him, 'Cousin Lorenzo (added she) you may perhaps have taken it unkindly, that, during the time of your indisposition by reason of your Wounds, I have not been to visit you; I do a.s.sure you it was not for want of any Inclination I had both to see and serve you to my power; but you are well acquainted with the Severity of my Father, whom you know how lately you have disobliged. I am mighty glad that I have met with you here, where I have had an Opportunity to tell you what so much concerns your Safety, which I am afraid you will not find in Florence; considering the great Power Don Fabritio and his Father, the Marquess of Viterbo, have in this City. I have another thing to inform you of, That whereas Don Fabio had interested himself in your Cause, in Opposition to the Marquess of Viterbo, by reason of the long Animosity between them, all hopes of his Countenance and a.s.sistance are defeated: For there has been a Proposal of Reconciliation made to both Houses, and it is said it will be confirm'd (as most such ancient Quarrels are at last) by the Marriage of Juliana the Marquess's Daughter, with Aurelian, Son to Don Fabio: to which effect the old Gentleman sent 'tother Day to Siena, where Aurelian has been Educated, to hasten his coming to Town; but the Messenger returning this Morning, brought word, That the same day he arriv'd at Siena, Aurelian had set out for Florence, in Company with a young Spanish n.o.bleman, his intimate Friend; so it is believ'd, they are both in Town, and not unlikely in this Room in Masquerade.

Hippolito could not forbear smiling to himself, at these last words. For ever since the naming of Don Fabio he had been very attentive; but before, his Thoughts were wholly taken up with the Beauty of the Face he had seen, and from the time she had taken him by the Hand, a successive warmth and chillness had play'd about his Heart, and surpriz'd him with an unusual Transport. He was in a hundred Minds, whether he should make her sensible of her Error or no; but considering he could expect no farther Conference with her after he should discover himself, and that as yet he knew not of her place of abode, he resolv'd to humour the mistake a little further. Having her still by the Hand, which he squeez'd somewhat more eagerly than is usual for Cousins to do, in a low and undistinguishable Voice, he let her know how much he held himself obliged to her, and avoiding as many words as handsomely he could, at the same time, entreated her to give him her Advice, toward the management of himself in this Affair. Leonora, who never from the beginning had entertain'd the least Scruple of distrust, imagined he spoke faintly, as not being yet perfectly recovered in his strength; and withal considering that the heat of the Room, by reason of the Crowd, might be uneasie to a Person in his Condition; she kindly told him, That if he were as inclinable to dispense with the remainder of that Nights Diversion as she was, and had no other engagement upon him, by her consent they should both steal out of the a.s.sembly, and go to her House, where they might with more freedom discourse about a business of that importance, and where he might take something to refresh himself if he were (as she conceiv'd him to be) indisposed with his long standing. Judge you whether the Proposal were acceptable to Hippolito or no; he had been ruminating with himself how to bring something like this about, and had almost despair'd of it; when of a suddain he found the success of his design had prevented his own endeavours. He told his Cousin in the same key as before, That he was unwilling to be the occasion of her Divorce from so much good Company; but for his own part, he was afraid he had presumed too much upon his recovery in coming abroad so soon, and that he found himself so unwell, he feared he should be quickly forc'd to retire.

Leonora stay'd not to make him any other reply, only tipp'd him upon the Arm, and bid him follow her at a convenient distance to avoid Observation.

Whoever had seen the Joy that was in Hippolito's Countenance, and the Sprightliness with which he follow'd his Beautiful Conductress, would scarce have taken him for a Person griev'd with uncured Wounds. She led him down a back pair of Stairs, into one of the Palace Gardens which had a Door opening into the Piazza, not far from where Don Mario her Father lived. They had little Discourse by the way, which gave Hippolito time to consider of the best way of discovering himself. A thousand things came into his Head in a minute, yet nothing that pleased him: and after so many Contrivances as he had formed for the discovery of himself, he found it more rational for him not to reveal himself at all that Night, since he could not foresee what effect the surprize would have, she must needs be in, at the appearance of a Stranger, whom she had never seen before, yet whom she had treated so familiarly. He knew Women were apt to shriek or swoon upon such Occasions, and should she happen to do either, he might be at a loss how to bring himself off. He thought he might easily pretend to be indisposed somewhat more than ordinary, and so make an excuse to go to his own Lodging. It came into his Head too, that under pretence of giving her an account of his Health, he might enquire of her the means how a Letter might be convey'd to her the next morning, wherein he might inform her gently of her mistake, and insinuate something of that Pa.s.sion he had conceiv'd, which he was sure he could not have opportunity to speak of if he bluntly revealed himself. He had just resolv'd upon this Method, as they were come to the great Gates of the Court, when Leonora stopping to let him go in before her, he of a suddain fetch'd his Breath violently as if some st.i.tch or twinging smart had just then a.s.saulted him. She enquired the matter of him, and advised him to make haste into the House that he might sit down and rest him. He told her he found himself so ill, that he judged it more convenient for him to go home while he was in a condition to move, for he fear'd if he should once settle himself to rest he might not be able to stir. She was much troubled, and would have had a Chair made ready and Servants to carry him home; but he made answer, he would not have any of her Fathers Servants know of his being abroad, and that just now he had an interval of ease, which he hop'd would continue till he made a shift to reach his own Lodgings. Yet if she pleased to inform him how he might give an account of himself the next morning, in a line or two, he would not fail to give her the thanks due to her great kindness; and withal, would let her know something which would not a little surprize her, though now he had not time to acquaint her with it. She show'd him a little Window at the corner of the House, where one should wait to receive his Letter, and was just taking her leave of him, when seeing him search hastily in his Pocket, she ask'd him if he miss'd any thing; he told her he thought a Wound which was not throughly heal'd bled a little, and that he had lost his Handkerchief. His design took; for she immediately gave him hers: which indeed accordingly he apply'd to the only wound he was then griev'd with; which though it went quite through his Heart, yet thank G.o.d was not Mortal. He was not a little rejoyc'd at his good Fortune in getting so early a Favour from his Mistress, and notwithstanding the violence he did himself to personate a sick Man, he could not forbear giving some Symptoms of an extraordinary content; and telling her that he did not doubt to receive a considerable Proportion of ease from the Application of what had so often kiss'd her fair Hand. Leonora who did not suspect the Compliment, told him she should be heartily glad if that or any thing in her power might contribute to his recovery; and wishing him well home, went into her House, as much troubled for her Cousin as he was joyful for his Mistress.

Hippolito as soon as she was gone in, began to make his Remarks about the House, walking round the great Court, viewing the Gardens and all the Pa.s.sages leading to that side of the Piazza. Having sufficiently informed himself, with a Heart full of Love, and a Head full of Stratagem, he walked toward his Lodging, impatient till the arrival of Aurelian that he might give himself vent. In which interim, let me take the liberty to digress a little, and tell the Reader something which I do not doubt he has apprehended himself long ago, if he be not the dullest Reader in the World; yet only for orders sake, let me tell him I say, That a young Gentleman (Cousin to the aforesaid Don Fabritio) happened one night to have some words at a Gameing House with one Lorenzo, which created a Quarrel of fatal Consequence to the former, who was killed upon the Spot, and likely to be so to the latter, who was very desperately wounded.

Fabritio being much concerned for his Kinsman, vow'd revenge (according to the ancient and laudable custom of Italy) upon Lorenzo if he surviv'd, or in case of his death (if it should happen to antic.i.p.ate that, much more swinging Death which he had in store for him) upon his next of Kin, and so to descend Lineally like an English Estate, to all the Heirs Males of this Family. This same Fabritio had indeed (as Leonora told Hippolito) taken particular notice of him from his first entrance into the Room, and was so far doubtful as to go out immediately himself, and make enquiry concerning Lorenzo, but was quickly inform'd of the greatness of his Error, in believing a Man to be abroad, who was so ill of his Wounds, that they now despair'd of his recovery; and thereupon return'd to the Ball very well satisfied, but not before Leonora and Hippolito were departed.

So, Reader, having now discharg'd my Conscience of a small Discovery which I thought my self obliged to make to Thee, I proceed to tell thee, that our Friend Aurelian had by this time danced himself into a Net which he neither could, nor which is worse desired to untangle.

His Soul was charm'd to the movement of her Body: an Air so graceful, so sweet, so easie and so great, he had never seen. She had something of Majesty in her, which appear'd to be born with her; and though it struck an awe into the Beholders, yet was it sweetned with a familiarity of Behaviour, which rendred it agreeable to every Body. The grandeur of her Mien was not stiff, but unstudied and unforced, mixed with a simplicity; free, yet not loose nor affected. If the former seem'd to condescend, the latter seem'd to aspire; and both to unite in the centre of Perfection. Every turn she gave in dancing s.n.a.t.c.ht Aurelian into a Rapture, and he had like to have been out two or three times with following his Eyes, which she led about as Slaves to her Heels.

As soon as they had done dancing, he began to complain of his want of Breath and Lungs, to speak sufficiently in her Commendation; She smilingly told him, he did ill to dance so much then: Yet in Consideration of the pains he had taken more than ordinary upon her account she would bate him a great deal of Complement, but with this Proviso, That he was to discover to her who he was. Aurelian was unwilling for the present to own himself to be really the Man he was; when a suddain thought came into his Head to take upon him the Name and Character of Hippolito, who he was sure was not known in Florence. He thereupon, after a little pause, pretended to recal himself in this manner: 'Madam, it is no small demonstration of the entire Resignation which I have made of my Heart to your Chains, since the secrets of it are no longer in my power. I confess I only took Florence in my way, not designing any longer Residence, than should be requisite to inform the Curiosity of a Traveller, of the rareties of the Place. Whether Happiness or Misery will be the Consequence of that Curiosity, I am yet in fear, and submit to your Determination; but sure I am, not to depart Florence till you have made me the most miserable Man in it, and refuse me the fatal Kindness of Dying at your Feet. I am by Birth a Spaniard, of the City of Toledo; my name Hippolito di Saviolina: I was yesterday a Man free, as Nature made the first; to day I am fallen into a Captivity, which must continue with my Life, and which, it is in your power, to make much dearer to me. Thus in obedience to your Commands, and contrary to my Resolution of remaining unknown in this place, I have inform'd you, Madam, what I am; what I shall be, I desire to know from you; at least, I hope, the free discovery I have made of my self, will encourage you to trust me with the knowledge of your Person.

Here a low bow, and a deep sigh, put an end to his Discourse, and signified his Expectation of her Reply, which was to this purpose--(But I had forgot to tell you, That Aurelian kept off his Mask from the time that he told her he was of Spain, till the period of his Relation.) Had I thought (said she) that my Curiosity would have brought me in debt, I should certainly have forborn it; or at least have agreed with you before hand about the rate of your discovery, then I had not brought my self to the Inconveniency of being censur'd, either of too much easiness or reservedness; but to avoid, as much as I can, the extreamity of either, I am resolv'd but to discover my self in part, and will endeavour to give you as little occasion as I can, either to boast of, or ridicule the Behaviour of the Women of Florence in your Travels.

Aurelian interrupted her, and swore very solemnly (and the more heartily, I believe, because he then indeed spoke truth) that he would make Florence the place of his abode, whatever concerns he had elsewhere. She advised him to be cautious how he swore to his Expressions of Gallantry; and farther told him she now hoped she should make him a return to all the Fine Things he had said, since she gave him his choice whether he would know who she was, or see her Face.

Aurelian who was really in Love, and in whom Consideration would have been a Crime, greedily embrac'd the latter, since she a.s.sured him at that time he should not know both. Well, what follow'd? Why, she pull'd off her Mask, and appear'd to him at once in the Glory of Beauty. But who can tell the astonishment Aurelian felt? He was for a time senseless; Admiration had suppress'd his Speech, and his Eyes were entangled in Light. I short, to be made sensible of his condition, we must conceive some Idea of what he beheld, which is not to imagined till seen, nor then to be express'd. Now see the impertinence and conceitedness of an Author, who will have a fling at a Description, which he has Prefaced with an impossibility. One might have seen something in her Composition resembling the Formation of Epicurus his World, as if every Atome of Beauty had concurr'd to unite an excellency. Had that curious Painter lived in her days, he might have avoided his painful search, when he collected from the choicest pieces the most choice Features, and by a due Disposition and Judicious Symmetry of those exquisite parts, made one whole and perfect Venus. Nature seem'd here to have play'd the Plagiary, and to have molded into Substance the most refined Thoughts of inspired Poets. Her Eyes diffus'd Rays comfortable as warmth, and piercing as the light; they would have worked a pa.s.sage through the straightest Pores, and with a delicious heat, have play'd about the most obdurate frozen Heart, untill 'twere melted down to Love. Such Majesty and Affability were in her Looks; so alluring, yet commanding was her Presence, that it minged awe with love; kindling a Flame which trembled to aspire. She had danced much, which, together with her being close masked, gave her a tincture of Carnation more than ordinary. But Aurelian (from whom I had every t.i.ttle of her Description) fancy'd he saw a little Nest of Cupids break from the Tresses of her Hair, and every one officiously betake himself to his task. Some fann'd with their downy Wings, her glowing Cheeks; while others brush'd the balmy Dew from off her Face, leaving alone a heavenly Moisture blubbing on her Lips, on which they drank and revell'd for their pains; Nay, so particular were their allotments in her service, that Aurelian was very positive a young Cupid who was but just Pen-feather'd, employ'd his naked Quills to pick her Teeth. And a thousand other things his transport represented to him, which none but Lovers who have experience of such Visions will believe.

As soon as he awaked and found his Speech come to him, he employ'd it to this effect:

''Tis enough that I have seen a Divinity--Nothing but Mercy can inhabit these Perfections--Their utmost rigour brings a Death preferable to any Life, but what they give--Use me, Madam, as you please; for by your fair self, I cannot think a Bliss beyond what now I feel--You wound with Pleasure, and if you Kill it must be with Transport--Ah! Yet methinks to live--O Heaven! to have Life p.r.o.nounced by those Bless'd Lips--Did they not inspire where they command, it were an immediate Death of Joy.

Aurelian was growing a little too loud with his Admiration, had she not just then interrupted him, by clapping on her Masque, and telling him they should be observed, if he proceeded in his Extravagance; and withal, that his Pa.s.sion was too suddain to be real, and too violent to be lasting. He replied, Indeed it might not be very lasting, (with a submissive mournful Voice) but it would continue during his Life. That it was suddain, he denied, for she had raised it by degrees from his first sight of her, by a continued discovery of Charms, in her Mien and Conversation, till she thought fit to set Fire to the Train she had laid, by the Lightning of her Face; and then he could not help it, if he were blown up.

He begg'd her to believe the Sincerity of his Pa.s.sion, at least to enjoin him something, which might tend to the Convincing of her Incredulity. She said, she should find a time to make some Trials of him; but for the first, she charged him not to follow or observe her, after the Dissolution of the a.s.sembly. He promised to obey, and entreated her to tell him but her Name, that he might have Recourse to that in his Affliction for her Absence, if he were able to survive it. She desired him to live by all means; and if he must have a Name to play with, to call her Incognita, till he were better informed.

The Company breaking up, she took her leave, and at his earnest Entreaty, gave him a short Vision of her Face which, then dress'd in an obliging smile, caused another fit of Transport, which lasted till she was gone out of Sight. Aurelian gathered up his Spirits, and walked slowly towards his Lodging, never remembring that he had lost Hippolito, till upon turning the Corner of a Street, he heard a noise of Fighting; and coming near, saw a Man make a vigorous Defence against two, who pressed violently upon him. He then thought of Hippolito, and fancying he saw the glimmering of Diamond b.u.t.tons, such as Hippolito had upon the Sleeves of his Habit, immediately drew to his a.s.sistance; and with that Eagerness and Resolution, that the a.s.sailants, finding their unmanly odds defeated, took to their Heels. The Person rescued by the Generous Help of Aurelian, came toward him; but as he would have stoop'd to have saluted him, dropp'd, fainting at his feet. Aurelian, now he was so near him, perceiv'd plainly Hippolito's Habit, and step'd hastily to take him up.

Just as some of the Guards (who were going the Rounds, apprehensive of such Disorders in an Universal Merriment) came up to him with Lights, and had taken Prisoners the Two Men, whom they met with their Sword's drawn; when looking in the Face of the Wounded Man, he found it was not Hippolito, but his Governour Claudio, in the Habit he had worn at the Ball. He was extreamly surpriz'd, as were the Prisoners, who confess'd their Design to have been upon Lorenzo; grounding their Mistake upon the Habit which was known to have been his. They were Two Men who formerly had been Servants to him, whom Lorenzo had unfortunately slain.

They made a shift to bring Claudio to himself; and part of the Guard carrying off the Prisoners, whom Aurelian desired they would secure, the rest accompanied him bearing Claudio in their Arms to his Lodging. He had not patience to forbear asking for Hippolito by the Way; whom Claudio a.s.sured him, he had left safe in his Chamber, above Two Hours since. That his coming Home so long before the Divertis.e.m.e.nts were ended, and Undressing himself, had given him the Unhappy Curiosity, to put on his Habit, and go to the Pallace; in his Return from whence, he was set upon in the Manner he found him, which if he recovered, he must own his Life indebted to his timely a.s.sistance.