The Fortunate Foundlings Part 9

_To the engaging count_ DE BELLFLEUR.

"Sensible, as you are, of the ascendant your merits have gained over me, you cannot doubt of my compliance with every thing that seems reasonable to you:--I will not fail to be at the place you mention; but oh! my dear count, I hope you will never give me cause to repent this step;--if you should, I must be the most miserable of all created beings; but I am resolved to believe you are all that man ought to be, or that fond tenacious woman can desire; and in that confidence attend with impatience the hour in which there shall be no more reserve between us, and I be wholly yours.

MELANTHE."

Thus every thing being fixed for her undoing, she spent the best part of the day in preparing for the rendezvous: nothing was omitted in the article of dress, which might heighten her charms and secure her conquest:--the gla.s.s was consulted every moment, and every look and various kind of languishment essayed, in order to continue in that which she thought would most become the occasion. As she ordinarily past a great deal of time in this employment, Louisa was not surprized that she now wasted somewhat more than usual; and the discourse they had together while she was dressing, and all the time of dinner, being very much on the ball and the company who were at it, her thoughts were so much taken up with the remembrance of du Plessis, that she perceived not the hurry of spirits which would else have been visible enough to her in all the words and motions of the other, and which increased in proportion as the hour of her appointment drew nearer.

At length it arrived, and a servant came into the room and acquainted Louisa a gentleman desired to speak with her; she was a little surprized, it being usual for all those who visited there to expect their reception from Melanthe; but that lady, who doubted not but it was the same person the count had mentioned in his letter, prevented her from saying any thing, by immediately giving orders for the gentleman to be admitted.

But with what strange emotions was the heart of Louisa agitated, when she saw monsieur du Plessis come into the room! and after paying his respects to Melanthe in the most submissive manner, accosted her, with saying he took the liberty of enquiring of her health after the fatigue of the last night; but, added he, the question, now I have the happiness of seeing you, is altogether needless; those fine eyes, and that sprightly air, declare you formed for everlasting gaiety, and that what is apt to throw the spirits of others into a languor, serves but to render yours more sparkling.

Louisa, in spite of the confusion she felt within, answered this compliment with her accustomed ease; and being all seated, they began to enter into some conversation concerning the state with which the Magnifico's of Venice are served, the elegance with which they entertain strangers, and some other topics relating to the customs of that republic, when all on a sudden Melanthe starting up, cried, bless me! I had forgot a little visit was in my head to make to a monastery hard by:--you will excuse me, monsieur, continued she, I leave your partner to entertain you, and fancy you two may find sufficient matter of conversation without a third person. She had no sooner spoke this than she went out of the room, and left Louisa at a loss how to account for this behaviour, as she had not before mentioned any thing of going abroad. She would have imagined her vanity had been picqued that monsieur du Plessis had particularized her in this visit; but as she seemed in perfect good humour at going away, and knew she thought it beneath her to put any disguise on her sentiments, she was certain this sudden motion must have proceeded from some other cause, which as yet she could form no conjecture of.

This deceived lady, however, was no sooner out of the room, than monsieur du Plessis drawing nearer to Louisa, how hard is my fate, madame, said he, in a low voice, that I am compelled to tell you any other motive than my own inclination has occasioned my waiting on you:--heaven knows it is an honour I should have sought by the lowest submissions, and all the ways that would not have rendered me unworthy of it; but I now come, madame, not as myself, but as the amba.s.sador of another, and am engaged by my word and honour to plead a cause which, if I succeed in, must be my own destruction.

Louisa was in the utmost consternation at the mystery which seemed contained in these words: she looked earnestly upon him while he was uttering the latter part, and saw all the tokens of a serious perplexity in his countenance, as well as in the accents with which he delivered them; but not being willing to be the dupe of his diversion, thought it best to answer as to a piece of railery, and told him, laughing, she imagined this was some new invention of the frolics of the season, but that she was a downright English-woman, understood nothing beyond plain speaking, and could no ways solve the riddle he proposed.

What I say, may doubtless appear so, madame; replied she, and I could wish it had not been my part to give the explanation; but I cannot dispense with the promise I have made, and must therefore acquaint you with the history of it.

After the ball, continued he, monsieur the count de Bellfleur desired me to accompany him to his lodgings, and, as soon as we were alone, told me, he had a little secret to acquaint me with, but that, before he revealed it, he must have the promise of my a.s.sistance. As he spoke this with a gay and negligent air, I imagined it a thing of no great consequence, or if it were, he was a man of too much honour, and also knew me too well to desire or expect I would engage in any thing unbecoming that character: indeed I could think of nothing but an amour or a duel, tho' I was far from being able to guess of what service I could be to him in the former. I was, however, unwarily drawn in to give my word, and he then made me the confident of a pa.s.sion, which, he said, had received its birth from the first moment he beheld the Belle Angloise, for by that term, pursued he, bowing, he distinguished the adorable Louisa: that he had made some discovery of his flame, but that finding; himself rejected, as he thought, in too severe a manner, and without affording him opportunity to attest his sincerity, he had converted his addresses, tho' not his pa.s.sion, to a lady who, he perceived, had the care of her, acting in this manner, partly thro'

picque at your disdain, and partly to gratify his eyes with the sight of you, which he has reason to fear you had totally deprived him of but for this stratagem. He confessed to me that he found the object of his pretended ardours infinitely more kind than she who inspires the real ones: but this gratification of his vanity is of little consequence to his peace;--he engaged me to attend you this day, to conjure you to believe his heart is incapable of being influenced by any other charms, and whatever he makes shew of to Melanthe, his heart is devoted wholly to you,--begs you to permit him to entertain you without the presence of that lady, the means of which he will take care to contrive; and charged me to a.s.sure you, that there is no sacrifice so great, but he will readily offer it to convince you of the sincerity of his attachment.

This, madame, added he, is the unpleasing task my promise bound me to perform, and which I have acquitted myself of with the same pain that man would do who, by some strange caprice of fate, was constrained to throw into the sea the sum of all his hopes.

The indignation which filled the virtuous foul of Louisa, while he was giving her this detail of the count's presumption, falsehood, and ingrat.i.tude, prevented her from giving much attention to the apology with which he concluded. Never, since the behaviour of mr. B----n at mrs. C--g--'s, had she met with any thing that she thought so much merited her resentment:--so great was her disdain she had not words to express it, but by some tears, which the rising pa.s.sion forced from her eyes:--Heaven! cried she, which of my actions has drawn on me this unworthy treatment?--This was all she was able to utter, while she walked backward and forward in the room endeavouring to compose herself, and form some answer befitting of the message.

Monsieur du Plessis looked on her all this while with admiration: all that seemed lovely in her, when he knew no more of her than that she was young and beautiful, was now heightened in his eyes almost to divine, by that virtuous pride which shewed him some part of her more charming mind. What he extremely liked before, he now almost adored; and having, by the loose manner in which the count had mentioned these two English ladies, imagined them women of not over-rigid principles, now finding his mistake, at least as concerning one of them, was so much ashamed and angry with himself for having been the cause of that disorder he was witness of, that he for some moments was equally at a loss to appease, as she who felt was to express it.

But being the first that recovered presence of mind; madame, I beseech you, said he, involve not the innocent with the guilty:--I acknowledge you have reason to resent the boldness of the count; but I am no otherwise a sharer in his crime than in reporting it; and if you knew the pain it gave my heart while I complied with the promise I was unhappily betrayed into, I am sure you would forgive the misdemeanor of my tongue.

Sir, answered she, I can easily forgive the slight opinion one so much a stranger to me as yourself may have of me; but monsieur the count has been a constant visitor to the lady I am with, ever since our arrival at Venice; and am very certain he never found any thing in my behaviour to him or any other person, which could justly encourage him to send me such a message:--a message, indeed, equally affrontive to himself, since it shews him a composition of arrogance, vanity, perfidy, and every thing that is contemptible in man.--This, sir, is the reply I send him, and desire you to tell him withal, that if he persists in giving me any farther trouble of this nature, I shall let him know my sense of it in the presence of Melanthe.

Monsieur du Plessis then a.s.sured her he would be no less exact in delivering what she said, than he had been in the observance of his promise to the other, and conjured her to believe he should do it with infinite more satisfaction. He then made use of so many arguments to prove, that a man of honour ought not to falsify his word, tho' given to an unworthy person, that she was at last won to forgive his having undertaken to mention any thing to her of the nature he had done.

Indeed, the agitations she had been in were more owing to the vexation that monsieur du Plessis was the person employed, than that the count had the boldness to apply to her in this manner; but the submission she found herself treated with by the former, convincing her that he had sentiments very different from those the other had entertained of her, rendered her more easy, and she not only forgave his share in the business which had brought him there, but also permitted him to repeat his visits, on condition he never gave her any cause to suspect the mean opinion the count had of her conduct had any influence on him.

CHAP. XIII.

_Louisa finds herself very much embarra.s.sed by Melanthe's imprudent behaviour. Monsieur du Plessis declares an honourable pa.s.sion for her: her sentiments and way of acting on that occasion_.

After the departure of monsieur du Plessis, Louisa fell into a serious consideration of what had pa.s.sed between them: not all the regard, which she could not hinder herself from feeling for that young gentleman, nor the pleasure she took in reflecting on the respect he paid her, made her unmindful of what she owed Melanthe: the many obligations she had received from her, and the friendship she had for her in return, made her think she ought to acquaint her with the baseness of the count de Bellfleur, in order to prevent an affection which she found she had already too much indulged from influencing her to grant him any farther favours; but this she knew was a very critical point to manage, and was not without some apprehensions, which afterward she experienced were but too well grounded; that when that lady found herself obliged to hate the man she took pleasure in loving, she would also hate the woman who was the innocent occasion of it. Few in the circ.u.mstances Louisa was, but would have been swayed by this consideration, and chose rather to see another become the prey of perfidy and deceit, than fall the victim of jealousy herself; but the generosity of her nature would not suffer it to have any weight with her, and she thought she could be more easy under any misfortunes the discovery might involve her in, than in the consciousness of not having discharged the obligations of duty and grat.i.tude in revealing what seemed so necessary to be known.

With this resolution, finding Melanthe was not come home, she went into her chamber in order to wait her return, and relate the whole history to her as she should undress for bed. But hour after hour elapsing without any appearance of the person she expected, she thought to beguile the tedious time by reading; and remembering that Melanthe had a very agreeable book in her hand that morning, she opened a drawer, where she knew that lady was accustomed to throw any thing in, which she had no occasion to conceal; but how great was her surprise when, instead of what she sought, she found the letter from count de Bellfleur which Melanthe, in the hurry of spirits, had forgot to lock up. As it lay open and was from him, she thought it no breach of honour to examine the contents, but in doing so was ready to faint away between grief and astonishment.

She was not insensible that Melanthe was charmed with this new lover, and had always feared her liking him would sway her to some imprudencies, but could not have imagined it would have carried her, at least so soon, to such a guilty length as she now found it did.

Convinced by the hour in which she went out, and alone, that she had complied with the appointment, and that all she would have endeavoured to prevent was already come to pa.s.s, she now considered that the discovery she had to make would only render this indiscreet lady more unhappy, and therefore no longer thought herself obliged to run any risque of incuring her ill-will on the occasion; but in her soul extremely lamented this second fall from virtue, which it was impossible should not bring on consequences equally, if not more shameful than the first.

Good G.o.d! cried she, how is it possible for a woman of any share of sense, and who has been blessed with a suitable education, to run thus counter to all the principles of religion, honour, virtue, modesty, and all that is valuable in our s.e.x? and yet that many do, I have been a melancholy witness:--and then again, what is there in this love, resumed she, that so infatuates the understanding, that we doat on our dishonour, and think ruin pleasing?--Can any personal perfections in a man attone for the contempt he treats us with in courting us to infamy!--the mean opinion he testifies to have of us sure ought rather to excite hate than love; our very pride, methinks, should be a sufficient guard, and turn whatever favourable thoughts we might have of such a one, unknowing his design, into aversion, when once convinced he presumed upon our weakness.

In these kind of reasonings did she continue some time; but reflecting that the trouble she was in might put Melanthe on asking the cause, it seemed best to her to avoid seeing her that night, so retired to her own room and went to bed, ordering the servants to tell their lady, in case she enquired for her, that she was a little indisposed.

While Louisa was thus deploring a misfortune she wanted power to remedy, the person for whom she was concerned past her time in a far different manner: the count omitted nothing that might convince her of his gallantry, and give her a pretence for flattering herself with his sincerity:--he swore ten thousand oaths of constancy, and she easily gave credit to what she wished and had vanity enough to think she merited:--he had prepared every thing that could delight the senses for her reception at the house to which he carried her; and she found in herself so little inclination to quit the pleasures she enjoyed, that it was as much as the little remains of decency and care of reputation could do, to make her tear herself away before midnight.

In the fullness of her heart she had doubtless concealed no part of this adventure from Louisa, but on hearing she was gone to rest, and not very well, would not disturb her. The first thing she did in the morning was to run into the chamber and enquire after her health, which she did in so affectionate and tender a manner, that it very much heightened the other's trouble for her.

It is certain that, setting aside too loose a way of thinking of virtue and religion, and adhering to that false maxim, that a woman of rank is above censure, Melanthe had many amiable qualities, and as she truly loved Louisa, was alarmed at her supposed indisposition, which, to conceal the perplexity her mind was in, she still continued to counterfeit, as well as to avoid going to a masquerade, to which they had some days before been invited, and which the present situation of her thoughts left her no relish for.

Melanthe would fain have perswaded her that this diversion would contribute to restoring her; but she entreated to be excused, and the other went without her.

Monsieur du Plessis in the mean time having informed the count de Bellfleur, how much it was in vain for him to flatter himself with any hopes of Louisa, that proud and inconstant n.o.bleman was extremely mortified, and said, that since she was so haughty, he was resolved to contrive some way or other to get her into his power, as well out of revenge as inclination. This, the other represented to him, would be a very ungenerous way of proceeding; and said, that as she refused his addresses merely out of a principle of virtue, and not for the sake of a more favoured rival, he ought to content himself; but these arguments were lost on a man whom pride of blood, and an affluence of fortune, had rendered too insolent and head-strong to think any thing reason which opposed his will; and they parted not well satisfied with each other, tho' du Plessis concealed part of the dislike he had of his principles and manner of behaviour, on account of a long friendship between their families, and also as the count was his superior in birth, in years, and in the post he held in the army.

He had no sooner left him than he came to Louisa, thinking it his duty to give her warning of the count's design, and that it would be a proper prelude to something else he had to say. As the servants knew she was not perfectly well, they told him, they believed she would see no company; but on his entreating it, and saying he had something of moment to impart, one of them went in and repeated what he had said, on which she gave leave for his admission.

He rejoiced to find her alone, as he came prepared to reveal to her more secrets than that of the count's menace; but the pleasure he took in having so favourable an opportunity was very much damped, by seeing her look more pale than usual, and that she was in a night-dress. Fearful that this change proceeded from what had pa.s.sed between them the day before, he asked with a hastiness, that shewed the most kind concern, if she were well. No otherways disordered, answered she, than in my mind, and that not sufficiently to have any effect over my health; but to confess the truth, monsieur, said she, the continual round of diversion this carnival affords, has made what the world calls pleasure, cease to be so with me; and I find more solid satisfaction in retirement, where I am in no danger of being too much flattered or affronted.

Ah! madam, cried he, I see the audacity of the count dwells too much upon your thoughts, and tremble to relate the business on which I came, and which it is yet necessary you should know. You mistake me, monsieur, replied she; a common foe of virtue, such as the count, is incapable of taking up my thoughts one moment; it is only those I love can give me real pain.

I understand you, madam, resumed he, and am too much interested in your concern not to simpathize on the occasion: the misfortunes, such as I fear will attend the too great sensibility of Melanthe, may give you so terrible an idea of love in general, that it will be difficult to persuade you there can be any lasting happiness to be found in that pa.s.sion:--but, charming Louisa, continued he, if you will make the least use of your penetration, and examine with a desire of being convinced, you will easily distinguish the real pa.s.sion from the counterfeit: that love, whose supremest pleasure is in being capable to give felicity to the beloved object; and that wild desire, which aims at no more than a self-gratification:--the one has the authority of heaven for its sanction;--the other no excuse but nature in its depravity. From all attempts of the one, I am confident, your virtue and good sense will always defend you; but to fly with too great obstinacy the other, is not to answer the end of your creation; and deny yourself a blessing, which you seem formed to enjoy in the most extensive degree.

Both the voice and manner in which monsieur du Plessis spoke, gave Louisa some suspicion of what he aimed at in this definition, and filled her at the same time with emotions of various kinds; but dissembling them as well as she could, and endeavouring to turn what he said into raillery, you argue very learnedly on this subject, it must be confessed, answered she smiling; but all you can urge on that head, nor the compliment you make me, can win me to believe that love of any kind is not attended with more mischief than good:--where it is accompanied with the strictest honour, constancy, purity, and all the requisites that const.i.tute what is called a perfect pa.s.sion, there are ordinarily so many difficulties in the way to the completion of its wishes, that the breast which harbours it must endure a continual agitation, which surely none would chuse to be involved in.

Ah! madam, how little are you capable of judging of this pa.s.sion, said he; there is a delicacy in love which renders even its pains pleasing, and how much soever a lover suffers, the thoughts of for whom he suffers is more than a compensation; I am myself an instance of this truth:--I am a lover:--conscious unworthiness of a suitable return of affection, and a thousand other impediments lie between me and hope, yet would I not change this dear anxiety for that insipid case I lived in before I saw the only object capable of making me a convert to love.--It is certain my pa.s.sion is yet young; but a few days has given it root which no time, no absence, no misfortune ever can dislodge.--The charming maid is ignorant of her conquest:--the carnival draws near to a conclusion.--I must return to the army, and these cruel circ.u.mstances oblige me either to make a declaration which she may possibly condemn as too abrupt, or go and leave her unknowing of my heart, and thereby deprive myself even of her pity:--Which party, madam, shall I take?--Will the severe extreme, to which I am driven, be sufficient to attone for a presumption which else would merit her disdain?

Louisa must have been as dull as she was really the contrary, not to have known all this was meant to herself; and the pleasing confusion which this discovery infused thro' all her veins, made her at the same time sensible of the difference she put between him and all those who before had entertained her on that subject; but not knowing presently whether she ought to attribute it to her good or ill fortune, she was wholly at a loss how to behave, and, to avoid giving any direct answer, still affected an air of pleasantry.

See, cried she, the little reason you, have to speak in the praise of love; for if pity be all you have to hope for from your, mistress, I am afraid the consolation will be no way adequate to the misfortune.

Yet if you vouchsafe me that, replied he, kissing her hard, I never shall complain. Me! interrupted she, pretending the utmost astonishment, and drawing her chair somewhat farther from him. Yes, beautiful Louisa, resumed he; it is you alone who have been capable of teaching me what love truly is:--your eyes, at first sight, subdued my heart; but your virtue has since made a conquest of my soul:--if I dare hope to make you mine, it is only by such ways as heaven, and those who have the power of disposing you, shall approve:--in the mean time I implore no more than your permission to admire you, and to convince you, by all the honourable services in my power to do you while you continue here, how much my words are deficient to denote my meaning.

Louisa, now finding herself under a necessity of answering seriously, told him, that if it were true that he had sentiments for her of the nature he pretended, they would not only merit, but receive the most grateful acknowledgments on her part; but at the same time she should be sorry he had entertained them, and would wish him not to indulge a prospect which could last no longer than while both remained in Venice, and must infallibly vanish on their separation.

No, madam, replied he, when the next campaign is over, I shall return to France; and sure the distance between that kingdom and England is not so great, but a less motive than yourself would easily carry me thither; and such credentials also of who, and what I am, as, I flatter myself, would not appear contemptible in the eyes of your friends:--the prospect therefore is not so visionary as you seem to think, provided I have your consent.

The mention he made of her friends reminding her of her dest.i.tute condition, gave her the utmost shock; which not being able to overcome, she remained silent some moments; but at last perceiving he waited her reply, monsieur, said she, there may be a thousand indissoluble bars between us which you do not think of.

None, interrupted he eagerly, but what such love as mine will easily surmount:--it is true, I am ignorant of your condition in the world; but if it be superior to mine, the pa.s.sion I am possessed of will inspire me with means to raise me to an equality; and if inferior, which heaven grant may be the case, it will only give the opportunity of proving that I love Louisa for Louisa's self, and look upon every thing she brings beside as nothing.

The emphasis he gave these words manifesting their sincerity, could not but give new charms to the person who spoke them: Louisa thought she might, without a blush, testify the sense she had of his generosity; but tho' what she said was perfectly obliging to him, yet she concluded with letting him know, there still was something that rendered the accomplishment of what he seemed to wish impossible.

Then your heart already is engaged, cried he, or you are predestined by your parents to some happier man? Without either of these, answered she, there may be reasons to prevent our ever meeting more;--therefore I owe so much to the honourable offers you are pleased to make me, as to wish you to overcome whatever inclinations you may have for one who I once more a.s.sure you never can be yours.

It would be impossible to express the distraction monsieur du Plessis testified at this expression:--a thousand times over did he repeat that dreadful word NEVER;--then added, neither engaged by love or promise, yet never can be mine! does my ill fate come wrap'd to me in riddles!--yet many things have seemed impossible that are not so in themselves:--O Louisa! continued he, if there be any thing beside my want of merit that impedes my wishes, and you delight not in my torment, speak it I conjure you.

There is a necessity of denying you in this also, said Louisa; but to shew you how little I am inclined to be ungrateful, be certain that I have the highest idea of your merits, and prize them as much as I ought to do.