The Works of Aphra Behn Volume V Part 14

Innocent Adultere_ which translated was so popular in the 17th and 18th centuries. Bellmour carried it in his pocket when he went a-courting Laet.i.tia, to the horror of old Fondlewife who discovered the tome, (_The Old Batchelor_, 1693), and Lydia Languish was partial to its perusal in 1775.]

[Footnote 2: Hamelius used the collected edition of 1705.]

[Footnote 3: It is interesting to note that the book originally belonged to Scott's friend and critic, Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.]

[Footnote 4: Reproduced by Celio Malespini _Ducento Novelle_, No.

9 (Venice, 4to, 1609, but probably written about thirty years before).]

[Footnote 5: A French prose translation of Southerne is to be found in Vol. VIII of _Le Theatre Anglois_, Londres, 1746. It is ent.i.tled _L'Adultere Innocent_; but the comic underplot is very sketchily a.n.a.lyzed, scene by scene, and the whole is very mediocre withal.]

To the Most Ill.u.s.trious Princess, The Dutchess of Mazarine.

Madam,

There are none of an Ill.u.s.trious Quality, who have not been made, by some Poet or other, the Patronesses of his Distress'd Hero, or Unfortunate Damsel; and such Addresses are Tributes, due only to the most Elevated, where they have always been very well receiv'd, since they are the greatest Testimonies we can give, of our Esteem and Veneration.

Madam, when I survey'd the whole Toor of Ladies at Court, which was adorn'd by you, who appear'd there with a Grace and Majesty, peculiar to Your Great Self only, mix'd with an irresistible Air of Sweetness, Generosity, and Wit, I was impatient for an Opportunity, to tell Your Grace, how infinitely one of Your own s.e.x ador'd You, and that, among all the numerous Conquest, Your Grace has made over the Hearts of Men, Your Grace had not subdu'd a more entire Slave; I a.s.sure you, Madam, there is neither Compliment nor Poetry, in this humble Declaration, but a Truth, which has cost me a great deal of Inquietude, for that Fortune has not set me in such a Station, as might justifie my Pretence to the honour and satisfaction of being ever near Your Grace, to view eternally that lovely Person, and hear that surprizing Wit; what can be more grateful to a Heart, than so great, and so agreeable, an Entertainment?

And how few Objects are there, that can render it so entire a Pleasure, as at once to hear you speak, and to look upon your Beauty? A Beauty that is heighten'd, if possible, with an air of Negligence, in Dress, wholly Charming, as if your Beauty disdain'd those little Arts of your s.e.x, whose Nicety alone is their greatest Charm, while yours, Madam, even without the a.s.sistance of your exalted Birth, begets an Awe and Reverence in all that do approach you, and every one is proud, and pleas'd, in paying you Homage their several ways, according to their Capacities and Talents; mine, Madam, can only be exprest by my Pen, which would be infinitely honour'd, in being permitted to celebrate your great Name for ever, and perpetually to serve, where it has so great an inclination.

In the mean time, Madam, I presume to lay this little Trifle at your Feet; the Story is true, as it is on the Records of the Town, where it was transacted; and if my fair unfortunate VOW-BREAKER do not deserve the honour of your Graces Protection, at least, she will be found worthy of your Pity; which will be a sufficient Glory, both for her, and,

Madam, Your Graces most humble, and most obedient Servant, A. BEHN.

THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker.

Of all the sins, incident to Human Nature, there is none, of which Heaven has took so particular, visible, and frequent Notice, and Revenge, as on that of _Violated Vows_, which never go unpunished; and the _Cupids_ may boast what they will, for the encouragement of their Trade of Love, that Heaven never takes cognisance of Lovers broken Vows and Oaths, and that 'tis the only Perjury that escapes the Anger of the _G.o.ds_; But I verily believe, if it were search'd into, we should find these frequent Perjuries, that pa.s.s in the World for so many Gallantries only, to be the occasion of so many unhappy Marriages, and the cause of all those Misfortunes, which are so frequent to the Nuptiall'd Pair. For not one of a Thousand, but, either on his side, or on hers, has been perjur'd, and broke Vows made to some fond believing Wretch, whom they have abandon'd and undone. What Man that does not boast of the Numbers he has thus ruin'd, and, who does not glory in the shameful Triumph?

Nay, what Woman, almost, has not a pleasure in Deceiving, taught, perhaps, at first, by some dear false one, who had fatally instructed her Youth in an Art she ever after practis'd, in Revenge on all those she could be too hard for, and conquer at their own Weapons? For, without all dispute, Women are by Nature more Constant and Just, than Men, and did not their first Lovers teach them the trick of Change, they would be _Doves_, that would never quit their Mate, and, like _Indian_ Wives, would leap alive into the Graves of their deceased Lovers, and be buried quick with 'em. But Customs of Countries change even Nature her self, and long Habit takes her place: The Women are taught, by the Lives of the Men, to live up to all their Vices, and are become almost as inconstant; and 'tis but Modesty that makes the difference, and, hardly, inclination; so deprav'd the nicest Appet.i.tes grow in time, by bad Examples.

But, as there are degrees of Vows, so there are degrees of Punishments for Vows, there are solemn Matrimonial Vows, such as contract and are the most effectual Marriage, and have the most reason to be so; there are a thousand Vows and Friendships, that pa.s.s between Man and Man, on a thousand Occasions; but there is another Vow, call'd a _Sacred Vow_, made to G.o.d only; and, by which, we oblige our selves eternally to serve him with all Chast.i.ty and Devotion: This Vow is only taken, and made, by those that enter into Holy Orders, and, of all broken Vows, these are those, that receive the most severe and notorious Revenges of G.o.d; and I am almost certain, there is not one Example to be produc'd in the World, where Perjuries of this nature have past unpunish'd, nay, that have not been persu'd with the greatest and most rigorous of Punishments. I could my self, of my own knowledge, give an hundred Examples of the fatal Consequences of the Violation of Sacred Vows; and who ever make it their business, and are curious in the search of such Misfortunes, shall find, as I say, that they never go unregarded.

The young Beauty therefore, who dedicates her self to Heaven, and weds her self for ever to the service of G.o.d, ought, first, very well to consider the Self-denial she is going to put upon her youth, her fickle faithless deceiving Youth, of one Opinion to day, and of another to morrow; like Flowers, which never remain in one state or fashion, but bud to day, and blow by insensible degrees, and decay as imperceptibly.

The Resolution, we promise, and believe we shall maintain, is not in our power, and nothing is so deceitful as human Hearts.

I once was design'd an humble Votary in the House of Devotion, but fancying my self not endu'd with an obstinacy of Mind, great enough to secure me from the Efforts and Vanities of the World, I rather chose to deny my self that Content I could not certainly promise my self, than to languish (as I have seen some do) in a certain Affliction; tho'

possibly, since, I have sufficiently bewailed that mistaken and inconsiderate Approbation and Preference of the false ungrateful World, (full of nothing but Nonsense, Noise, false Notions, and Contradiction) before the Innocence and Quiet of a Cloyster; nevertheless, I could wish, for the prevention of abundance of Mischiefs and Miseries, that Nunneries and Marriages were not to be enter'd into, 'till the Maid, so destin'd, were of a mature Age to make her own Choice; and that Parents would not make use of their justly a.s.sum'd Authority to compel their Children, neither to the one or the other; but since I cannot alter Custom, nor shall ever be allow'd to make new Laws, or rectify the old ones, I must leave the Young Nuns inclos'd to their best Endeavours, of making a Virtue of Necessity; and the young Wives, to make the best of a bad Market.

In _Iper_, a Town, not long since, in the Dominions of the King of _Spain_, and now in possession of the King of _France_, there liv'd a Man of Quality, of a considerable Fortune, call'd, Count _Henrick de Vallary_, who had a very beautiful Lady, by whom, he had one Daughter, call'd _Isabella_, whose Mother dying when she was about two years old to the unspeakable Grief of the Count, her Husband, he resolv'd never to partake of any Pleasure more, that this transitory World could court him with, but determin'd, with himself, to dedicate his Youth, and future Days, to Heaven, and to take upon him Holy Orders; and, without considering, that, possibly, the young _Isabella_, when she grew to Woman, might have Sentiments contrary to those that now possest him, he design'd she should also become a Nun; However, he was not so positive in that Resolution, as to put the matter wholly out of her Choice, but divided his Estate; one half he carried with him to the Monastery of _Jesuits_, of which number, he became one; and the other half, he gave with _Isabella_, to the Monastery, of which, his only Sister was Lady _Abbess_, of the Order of St. _Augustine_; but so he ordered the matter, that if, at the Age of Thirteen, _Isabella_ had not a mind to take Orders, or that the Lady _Abbess_ found her Inclination averse to a Monastick Life, she should have such a proportion of the Revenue, as should be fit to marry her to a n.o.ble Man, and left it to the discretion of the Lady _Abbess_, who was a Lady of known Piety, and admirable strictness of Life, and so nearly related to _Isabella_, that there was no doubt made of her Integrity and Justice.

The little _Isabella_ was carried immediately (in her Mourning for her dead Mother) into the Nunnery, and was receiv'd as a very diverting Companion by all the young Ladies, and, above all, by her Reverend Aunt, for she was come just to the Age of delighting her Parents; she was the prettiest forward Pratler in the World, and had a thousand little Charms to please, besides the young Beauties that were just budding in her little Angel Face: So that she soon became the dear lov'd Favourite of the whole House; and as she was an Entertainment to them all, so they made it their study to find all the Diversions they could for the pretty _Isabella_; and as she grew in Wit and Beauty every day, so they fail'd not to cultivate her Mind; and delicate Apprehension, in all that was advantageous to her s.e.x, and whatever Excellency any one abounded in, she was sure to communicate it to the young _Isabella_, if one could Dance, another Sing, another play on this Instrument, and another on that; if this spoke one Language, and that another; if she had Wit, and she Discretion, and a third, the finest Fashion and Manners; all joyn'd to compleat the Mind and Body of this beautiful young Girl; Who, being undiverted with the less n.o.ble, and less solid, Vanities of the World, took to these Virtues, and excell'd in all; and her Youth and Wit being apt for all Impressions, she soon became a greater Mistress of their Arts, than those who taught her; so that at the Age of eight or nine Years, she was thought fit to receive and entertain all the great Men and Ladies, and the Strangers of any Nation, at the _Grate_; and that with so admirable a Grace, so quick and piercing a Wit, and so delightful and sweet a Conversation, that she became the whole Discourse of the Town, and Strangers spread her Fame, as prodigious, throughout the Christian World; for Strangers came daily to hear her talk, and sing, and play, and to admire her Beauty; and Ladies brought their Children, to shame 'em into good Fashion and Manners, with looking on the lovely young _Isabella_.

The Lady _Abbess_, her Aunt, you may believe, was not a little proud of the Excellencies and Virtues of her fair _Niece_, and omitted nothing that might adorn her Mind; because, not only of the vastness of her Parts and Fame, and the Credit she would do her House, by residing there for ever; but also, being very loth to part with her considerable Fortune, which she must resign, if she returned into the World, she us'd all her Arts and Stratagems to make her become a _Nun_, to which all the fair Sisterhood contributed their Cunning, but it was altogether needless; her Inclination, the strictness of her Devotion, her early Prayers, and those continual, and innate Stedfastness, and Calm, she was Mistress of; her Ignorance of the World's Vanities, and those that uninclos'd young Ladies count Pleasures and Diversions, being all unknown to her, she thought there was no Joy out of a _Nunnery_, and no Satisfactions on the other side of a _Grate_.

The Lady _Abbess_, seeing, that of her self she yielded faster than she could expect; to discharge her Conscience to her Brother, who came frequently to visit his Darling _Isabella_, would very often discourse to her of the Pleasures of the World, telling her, how much happier she would think her self, to be the Wife of some gallant young Cavalier, and to have Coaches and Equipages; to see the World, to behold a thousand Rarities she had never seen, to live in Splendor, to eat high, and wear magnificent Clothes, to be bow'd to as she pa.s.s'd, and have a thousand Adorers, to see in time a pretty Offspring, the products of Love, that should talk, and look, and delight, as she did, the Heart of their Parents; but to all, her Father and the Lady _Abbess_ could say of the World, and its Pleasures, _Isabella_ brought a thousand Reasons and Arguments, so Pious, so Devout, that the _Abbess_ was very well pleased, to find her (purposely weak) Propositions so well overthrown; and gives an account of her daily Discourses to her Brother, which were no less pleasing to him; and tho' _Isabella_ went already dress'd as richly as her Quality deserv'd, yet her Father, to try the utmost that the World's Vanity could do, upon her young Heart, orders the most Glorious Clothes should be bought her, and that the Lady _Abbess_ should suffer her to go abroad with those Ladies of Quality, that were her Relations, and her Mother's Acquaintance; that she should visit and go on the Toore, (that is, the Hide Park there) that she should see all that was diverting, to try, whether it were not for want of Temptation to Vanity, that made her leave the World, and love an inclos'd Life.

As the Count had commanded, all things were performed; and _Isabella_ arriving at her Thirteenth Year of Age, and being pretty tall of Stature, with the finest Shape that Fancy can create, with all the Adornment of a perfect brown-hair'd Beauty, Eyes black and lovely, Complexion fair; to a Miracle, all her Features of the rarest proportion, the Mouth red, the Teeth white, and a thousand Graces in her Meen and Air; she came no sooner abroad, but she had a thousand Persons fighting for love of her; the Reputation her Wit had acquir'd, got her Adorers without seeing her, but when they saw her, they found themselves conquer'd and undone; all were glad she was come into the World, of whom they had heard so much, and all the Youth of the Town dress'd only for _Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star that Eclips'd all the rest, and which set the World a-gazing. Some hop'd, and some despair'd, but all lov'd, while _Isabella_ regarded not their Eyes, their distant darling Looks of Love, and their signs of Adoration; she was civil and affable to all, but so reserv'd, that none durst tell her his Pa.s.sion, or name that strange and abhorr'd thing, _Love_, to her; the Relations with whom she went abroad every day, were fein to force her out, and when she went, 'twas the motive of Civility, and not Satisfaction, that made her go; whatever she saw, she beheld with no admiration, and nothing created wonder in her, tho' never so strange and Novel. She survey'd all things with an indifference, that tho' it was not sullen, was far from Transport, so that her evenness of Mind was infinitely admir'd and prais'd. And now it was, that, young as she was, her Conduct and Discretion appear'd equal to her Wit and Beauty, and she encreas'd daily in Reputation, insomuch, that the Parents of abundance of young n.o.ble Men, made it their business to endeavour to marry their Sons to so admirable and n.o.ble a Maid, and one, whose Virtues were the Discourse of all the World; the _Father_, the Lady _Abbess_, and those who had her abroad, were solicited to make an Alliance; for the Father, he would give no answer, but left it to the discretion of _Isabella_, who could not be persuaded to hear any thing of that nature; so that for a long time she refus'd her company to all those, who propos'd any thing of Marriage to her; she said, she had seen nothing in the World that was worth her Care, or the venturing the losing of Heaven for, and therefore was resolv'd to dedicate her self to that; that the more she saw of the World, the worse she lik'd it, and pity'd the Wretches that were condemn'd to it; that she had consider'd it, and found no one Inclination that forbad her immediate Entrance into a Religious Life; to which, her Father, after using all the Arguments he could, to make her take good heed of what she went about, to consider it well; and had urg'd all the Inconveniencies of Severe Life, Watchings, Midnight Risings in all Weathers and Seasons to Prayers, hard Lodging, course Diet, and homely Habit, with a thousand other things of Labour and Work us'd among the _Nuns_; and finding her still resolv'd and inflexible to all contrary persuasions, he consented, kiss'd her, and told her, She had argu'd according to the wish of his Soul, and that he never believ'd himself truly happy, till this moment that he was a.s.sur'd, she would become a Religious.

This News, to the Heart-breaking of a thousand Lovers, was spread all over the Town, and there was nothing but Songs of Complaint, and of her retiring, after she had shewn her self to the World, and vanquish'd so many Hearts; all Wits were at work on this Cruel Subject, and one begat another, as is usual in such Affairs. Amongst the number of these Lovers, there was a young Gentleman, n.o.bly born, his name was _Villenoys_, who was admirably made, and very handsom, had travell'd and accomplish'd himself, as much as was possible for one so young to do; he was about Eighteen, and was going to the Siege of _Candia_, in a very good Equipage, but, overtaken by his Fate, surpris'd in his way to Glory, he stopt at _Ipers_, so fell most pa.s.sionately in love with this Maid of Immortal Fame; but being defeated in his hopes by this News, was the Man that made the softest Complaints to this fair Beauty, and whose violence of Pa.s.sion oppress'd him to that degree, that he was the only Lover, who durst himself tell her, he was in love with her; he writ Billets so soft and tender, that she had, of all her Lovers, most compa.s.sion for _Villenoys_, and dain'd several times, in pity of him, to send him answers to his Letters, but they were such, as absolutely forbad him to love her; such as incited him to follow Glory, the Mistress that could n.o.blest reward him; and that, for her part, her Prayers should always be, that he might be victorious, and the Darling of that Fortune he was going to court; and that she, for her part, had fix'd her Mind on Heaven, and no Earthly Thought should bring it down; but she should ever retain for him all Sisterly Respect, and begg'd, in her Solitudes, to hear, whether her Prayers had prov'd effectual or not, and if Fortune were so kind to him, as she should perpetually wish.

When _Villenoys_ found she was resolv'd, he design'd to persue his Journy, but could not leave the Town, till he had seen the fatal Ceremony of _Isabella's_ being made a _Nun_, which was every day expected; and while he stay'd, he could not forbear writing daily to her, but receiv'd no more Answers from her, she already accusing her self of having done too much, for a Maid in her Circ.u.mstances; but she confess'd, of all she had seen, she lik'd _Villenoys_ the best; and if she ever could have lov'd, she believ'd it would have been _Villenoys_, for he had all the good Qualities, and grace, that could render him agreeable to the Fair; besides, that he was only Son to a very rich and n.o.ble Parent, and one that might very well presume to lay claim to a Maid of _Isabella's_ Beauty and Fortune.

As the time approach'd, when he must eternally lose all hope, by _Isabella's_ taking Orders, he found himself less able to bear the Efforts of that Despair it possess'd him with, he languished with the thought, so that it was visible to all his Friends, the decays it wrought on his Beauty and Gaiety: So that he fell at last into a Feaver; and 'twas the whole Discourse of the Town, That _Villenoys_ was dying for the Fair _Isabella_; his Relations, being all of Quality, were extreamly afflicted at his Misfortune, and joyn'd their Interests yet, to dissuade this fair young Victoress from an act so cruel, as to inclose herself in a _Nunnery_, while the finest of all the youths of Quality was dying for her, and ask'd her, If it would not be more acceptable to Heaven to save a Life, and perhaps a Soul, than to go and expose her own to a thousand Tortures? They a.s.sur'd her, _Villenoys_ was dying, and dying Adoring her; that nothing could save his Life, but her kind Eyes turn'd upon the fainting Lover; a Lover, that could breath nothing, but her Name in Sighs; and find satisfaction in nothing, but weeping and crying out, 'I dye for Isabella!' This Discourse fetch'd abundance of Tears from the fair Eyes of this tender Maid; but, at the same time, she besought them to believe, these Tears ought not to give them hope, she should ever yield to save his Life, by quitting her Resolution, of becoming a _Nun_; but, on the contrary, they were Tears, that only bewail'd her own Misfortune, in having been the occasion of the death of any Man, especially, a Man, who had so many Excellencies, as might have render'd him entirely Happy and Glorious for a long race of Years, had it not been his ill fortune to have seen her unlucky Face.

She believ'd, it was for her Sins of Curiosity, and going beyond the Walls of the Monastery, to wander after the Vanities of the foolish World, that had occasion'd this Misfortune to the young Count of _Villenoys_, and she would put a severe Penance on her Body, for the Mischiefs her Eyes had done him; she fears she might, by something in her looks, have intic'd his Heart, for she own'd she saw him, with wonder at his Beauty, and much more she admir'd him, when she found the Beauties of his Mind; she confess'd, she had given him hope, by answering his Letters; and that when she found her Heart grow a little more than usually tender, when she thought on him, she believ'd it a Crime, that ought to be check'd by a Virtue, such as she pretended to profess, and hop'd she should ever carry to her Grave; and she desired his Relations to implore him, in her Name, to rest contented, in knowing he was the first, and should be the last, that should ever make an impression on her Heart; that what she had conceiv'd there, for him, should remain with her to her dying day, and that she besought him to live, that she might see, he both deserv'd this Esteem she had for him, and to repay it her, otherwise he would dye in her debt, and make her Life ever after reposeless.

This being all they could get from her, they return'd with Looks that told their Message; however, they render'd those soft things _Isabella_ had said, in so moving a manner, as fail'd not to please, and while he remain'd in this condition, the Ceremonies were compleated, of making _Isabella_ a _Nun_; which was a Secret to none but _Villenoys_, and from him it was carefully conceal'd, so that in a little time he recover'd his lost health, at least, so well, as to support the fatal News, and upon the first hearing it, he made ready his Equipage, and departed immediately for _Candia_; where he behav'd himself very gallantly, under the Command of the Duke De _Beaufort_, and, with him, return'd to _France_, after the loss of that n.o.ble City to the _Turks_.

In all the time of his absence, that he might the sooner establish his Repose, he forbore sending to the fair Cruel _Nun_, and she heard no more of _Villenoys_ in above two years; so that giving her self wholly up to Devotion, there was never seen any one, who led so Austere and Pious a Life, as this young _Votress_; she was a Saint in the Chapel, and an Angel at the _Grate_: She there laid by all her severe Looks, and mortify'd Discourse, and being at perfect peace and tranquility within, she was outwardly all gay, sprightly, and entertaining, being satisfy'd, no Sights, no Freedoms, could give any temptations to worldly desires; she gave a loose to all that was modest, and that Virtue and Honour would permit, and was the most charming Conversation that ever was admir'd; and the whole World that pa.s.s'd through _Iper_; of Strangers, came directed and recommended to the lovely _Isabella_; I mean, those of Quality: But however Diverting she was at the _Grate_, she was most exemplary Devout in the Cloister, doing more Penance, and imposing a more rigid Severity and Task on her self, than was requir'd, giving such rare Examples to all the _Nuns_ that were less Devout, that her Life was a Proverb, and a President, and when they would express a very Holy Woman indeed, they would say, 'She was a very _ISABELLA_.'

There was in this _Nunnery_, a young _Nun_, call'd, Sister _Katteriena_, Daughter to the Grave _Vanhenault_, that is to say, an Earl, who liv'd about six Miles from the Town, in a n.o.ble _Villa_; this Sister _Katteriena_ was not only a very beautiful Maid, but very witty, and had all the good qualities to make her be belov'd, and had most wonderfully gain'd upon the Heart of the fair _Isabella_, she was her Chamber-Fellow and Companion in all her Devotions and Diversions, so that where one was, there was the other, and they never went but together to the _Grate_, to the Garden, or to any place, whither their _Affairs_ call'd either. This young _Katteriena_ had a Brother, who lov'd her intirely, and came every day to see her, he was about twenty Years of Age, rather tall than middle Statur'd, his Hair and Eyes brown, but his Face exceeding beautiful, adorn'd with a thousand Graces, and the most n.o.bly and exactly made, that 'twas possible for Nature to form; to the Fineness and Charms of his Person, he had an Air in his Meen and Dressing, so very agreeable, besides rich, that 'twas impossible to look on him, without wishing him happy, because he did so absolutely merit being so. His Wit and his Manner was so perfectly Obliging, a Goodness and Generosity so Sincere and Gallant, that it would even have aton'd for Ugliness. As he was eldest Son to so great a Father, he was kept at home, while the rest of his Brothers were employ'd in Wars abroad; this made him of a melancholy Temper, and fit for soft Impressions; he was very Bookish, and had the best Tutors that could be got, for Learning and Languages, and all that could compleat a Man; but was unus'd to Action, and of a temper Lazy, and given to Repose, so that his Father could hardly ever get him to use any Exercise, or so much as ride abroad, which he would call, Losing Time from his Studies: He car'd not for the Conversation of Men, because he lov'd not Debauch, as they usually did; so that for Exercise, more than any Design, he came on Horseback every day to _Iper_ to the _Monastery_, and would sit at the _Grate_, entertaining his Sister the most part of the Afternoon, and, in the Evening, retire; he had often seen and convers'd with the lovely _Isabella_, and found from the first sight of her, he had more Esteem for her, than any other of her s.e.x: But as Love very rarely takes Birth without Hope; so he never believ'd that the Pleasure he took in beholding her, and in discoursing with her, was Love, because he regarded her, as a Thing consecrate to Heaven, and never so much as thought to wish, she were a Mortal fit for his Addresses; yet he found himself more and more fill'd with Reflections on her which was not usual with him; he found she grew upon his Memory, and oftner came there, than he us'd to do, that he lov'd his Studies less, and going to _Iper_ more; and, that every time he went, he found a new Joy at his Heart that pleas'd him; he found, he could not get himself from the _Grate_, without Pain; nor part from the sight of that all-charming Object, without Sighs; and if, while he was there, any persons came to visit her, whose Quality she could not refuse the honour of her sight to, he would blush, and pant with uneasiness, especially, if they were handsom, and fit to make Impressions: And he would check this Uneasiness in himself, and ask his Heart, what it meant, by rising and beating in those Moments, and strive to a.s.sume an Indifferency in vain, and depart dissatisfy'd, and out of humour.

On the other side, _Isabella_ was not so Gay as she us'd to be, but, on the sudden, retir'd her self more from the _Grate_ than she us'd to do, refus'd to receive Visits every day, and her Complexion grew a little pale and languid; she was observ'd not to sleep, or eat, as she us'd to do, nor exercise in those little Plays they made, and diverted themselves with, now and then; she was heard to sigh often, and it became the Discourse of the whole House, that she was much alter'd: The Lady _Abbess_, who lov'd her with a most tender Pa.s.sion, was infinitely concern'd at this Change, and endeavour'd to find out the Cause, and 'twas generally believ'd, she was too Devout, for now she redoubled her Austerity; and in cold Winter Nights, of Frost and Snow, would be up at all Hours, and lying upon the cold Stones, before the Altar, prostrate at Prayers: So that she receiv'd Orders from the Lady _Abbess_, not to hara.s.s her self so very much, but to have a care of her Health, as well as her Soul; but she regarded not these Admonitions, tho' even persuaded daily by her _Katteriena_, whom she lov'd every day more and more.

But, one Night, when they were retir'd to their Chamber, amongst a thousand things that they spoke of, to pa.s.s away a tedious Evening, they talk'd of Pictures and Likenesses, and _Katteriena_ told _Isabella_, that before she was a _Nun_, in her more happy days, she was so like her Brother _Bernardo Henault_, (who was the same that visited them every day) that she would, in Men's Clothes, undertake, she should not have known one from t'other, and fetching out his _Picture_, she had in a Dressing-Box, she threw it to _Isabella_, who, at the first sight of it, turns as pale as Ashes, and, being ready to swound, she bid her take it away, and could not, for her Soul, hide the sudden surprise the _Picture_ brought: _Katteriena_ had too much Wit, not to make a just Interpretation of this Change, and (as a Woman) was naturally curious to pry farther, tho' Discretion should have made her been silent, for Talking, in such cases, does but make the Wound rage the more; 'Why, my dear Sister, (said _Katteriena_) is the likeness of my Brother so offensive to you?' _Isabella_ found by this, she had discover'd too much, and that Thought put her by all power of excusing it; she was confounded with Shame, and the more she strove to hide it, the more it disorder'd her; so that she (blushing extremely) hung down her Head, sigh'd, and confess'd all by her Looks. At last, after a considering Pause, she cry'd, 'My dearest Sister, I do confess, I was surpriz'd at the sight of Monsieur _Henault_, and much more than ever you have observ'd me to be at the sight of his Person, because there is scarce a day wherein I do not see that, and know beforehand I shall see him; I am prepar'd for the Encounter, and have lessen'd my Concern, or rather Confusion, by that time I come to the _Grate_, so much Mistress I am of my Pa.s.sions, when they give me warning of their approach, and sure I can withstand the greatest a.s.saults of Fate, if I can but foresee it; but if it surprize me, I find I am as feeble a Woman, as the most unresolv'd; you did not tell me, you had this Picture, nor say, you would shew me such a Picture; but when I least expect to see that Face, you shew it me, even in my Chamber.'

'Ah, my dear Sister! (reply'd _Katteriena_) I believe, that Paleness, and those Blushes, proceed from some other cause, than the Nicety of seeing the Picture of a Man in your Chamber':

'You have too much Wit, (reply'd _Isabella_) to be impos'd on by such an Excuse, if I were so silly to make it; but oh! my dear Sister! it was in my Thoughts to deceive you; could I have concealed my Pain and Sufferings, you should never have known them; but since I find it impossible, and that I am too sincere to make use of Fraud in any thing, 'tis fit I tell you, from what cause my change of Colour proceeds, and to own to you, I fear, 'tis Love, if ever therefore, oh gentle pitying Maid! thou wert a Lover? If ever thy tender Heart were touch'd with that Pa.s.sion? Inform me, oh! inform me, of the nature of that cruel Disease, and how thou found'st a Cure?'

While she was speaking these words, she threw her Arms about the Neck of the fair _Katteriena_, and bath'd her Bosom (where she hid her Face) with a shower of Tears; _Katteriena_, embracing her with all the fondness of a dear Lover, told her, with a Sigh, that she could deny her nothing, and therefore confess'd to her, she had been a Lover, and that was the occasion of her being made a _Nun_, her Father finding out the Intrigue, which fatally happened to be with his own Page, a Youth of extraordinary Beauty. 'I was but Young, (said she) about Thirteen, and knew not what to call the new-known Pleasure that I felt; when e're I look'd upon the young _Arnaldo_, my Heart would heave, when e're he came in view, and my disorder'd Breath came doubly from my Bosom; a Shivering seiz'd me, and my Face grew wan; my Thought was at a stand, and Sense it self, for that short moment, lost its Faculties; But when he touch'd me, oh! no hunted Deer, tir'd with his flight, and just secur'd in Shades, pants with a nimbler motion than my Heart; at first, I thought the Youth had had some Magick Art, to make one faint and tremble at his touches; but he himself, when I accus'd his Cruelty, told me, he had no Art, but awful Pa.s.sion, and vow'd that when I touch'd him, he was so; so trembling, so surprized, so charm'd, so pleas'd. When he was present, nothing could displease me, but when he parted from me; then 'twas rather a soft silent Grief, that eas'd itself by sighing, and by hoping, that some kind moment would restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing could divert me, howe're I strove, howe're I toyl'd for Mirth; no Smile, no Joy, dwelt in my Heart or Eyes; I could not feign, so very well I lov'd, impatient in his absence, I would count the tedious parting Hours, and pa.s.s them off like useless Visitants, whom we wish were gon; these are the Hours, where Life no business has, at least, a Lover's Life. But, oh! what Minutes seem'd the happy Hours, when on his Eyes I gaz'd, and he on mine, and half our Conversation lost in Sighs, Sighs, the soft moving Language of a Lover!'

'No more, no more, (reply'd _Isabella_, throwing her Arms again about the Neck of the transported _Katteriena_) thou blow'st my Flame by thy soft Words, and mak'st me know my Weakness, and my Shame: I love!

I love! and feel those differing Pa.s.sions!'--Then pausing a moment, she proceeded,--'Yet so didst thou, but hast surmounted it. Now thou hast found the Nature of my Pain, oh! tell me thy saving Remedy?' 'Alas!

(reply'd _Katteriena_) tho' there's but one Disease, there's many Remedies: They say, possession's one, but that to me seems a Riddle; Absence, they say, another, and that was mine; for _Arnaldo_ having by chance lost one of my Billets, discover'd the Amour, and was sent to travel, and my self forc'd into this Monastery, where at last, Time convinc'd me, I had lov'd below my Quality, and that sham'd me into Holy Orders.' 'And is it a Disease, (reply'd _Isabella_) that People often recover?' 'Most frequently, (said _Katteriena_) and yet some dye of the Disease, but very rarely.' 'Nay then, (said _Isabella_) I fear, you will find me one of these Martyrs; for I have already oppos'd it with the most severe Devotion in the World: But all my Prayers are vain, your lovely Brother persues me into the greatest Solitude; he meets me at my very Midnight Devotions, and interrupts my Prayers; he gives me a thousand Thoughts, that ought not to enter into a Soul dedicated to Heaven; he ruins all the Glory I have achiev'd, even above my s.e.x, for Piety of Life, and the Observation of all Virtues. Oh _Katteriena_! he has a Power in his Eyes, that transcends all the World besides: And, to shew the weakness of Human Nature, and how vain all our Boastings are, he has done that in one fatal Hour, that the persuasions of all my Relations and Friends, Glory, Honour, Pleasure, and all that can tempt, could not perform in Years; I resisted all but _Henault's_ Eyes, and they were Ordain'd to make me truly wretched; But yet with thy a.s.sistance, and a Resolution to see him no more, and my perpetual Trust in Heaven, I may, perhaps, overcome this Tyrant of my Soul, who, I thought, had never enter'd into holy Houses, or mix'd his Devotions and Worship with the true Religion; but, oh! no Cells, no Cloysters, no Hermitages, are secur'd from his Efforts.'

This Discourse she ended with abundance of Tears, and it was resolv'd, since she was devoted for ever to a Holy Life, That it was best for her to make it as easy to her as was possible; in order to it, and the banishing this fond and useless Pa.s.sion from her Heart, it was very necessary, she should see _Henault_ no more: At first, _Isabella_ was afraid, that, in refusing to see him, he might mistrust her Pa.s.sion; but _Katteriena_ who was both Pious and Discreet, and endeavour'd truly to cure her of so violent a Disease, which must, she knew, either end in her death or destruction, told her, She would take care of that matter, that it should not blemish her Honour; and so leaving her a while, after they had resolved on this, she left her in a thousand Confusions, she was now another Woman than what she had hitherto been; she was quite alter'd in every Sentiment, thought and Notion; she now repented, she had promis'd not to see _Henault_; she trembled and even fainted, for fear she should see him no more; she was not able to bear that thought, it made her rage within, like one possest, and all her Virtue could not calm her; yet since her word was past, and, as she was, she could not, without great Scandal, break it in that point, she resolv'd to dye a thousand Deaths, rather than not perform her Promise made to _Katteriena_; but 'tis not to be express'd what she endur'd; what Fits, Pains, and Convulsions, she sustain'd; and how much ado she had to dissemble to Dame _Katteriena_, who soon return'd to the afflicted Maid; the next day, about the time that _Henault_ was to come, as he usually did, about two or three a Clock after Noon, 'tis impossible to express the uneasiness of _Isabella_; she ask'd, a thousand times, 'What, is not your Brother come?' When Dame _Katteriena_ would reply, 'Why do you ask?' She would say, 'Because I would be sure not to see him': 'You need not fear, Madam, (reply'd _Katteriena_) for you shall keep your Chamber.' She need not have urg'd that, for _Isabella_ was very ill without knowing it, and in a Feaver.

At last, one of the _Nuns_ came up, and told Dame _Katteriena_, that her Brother was at the _Grate_, and she desired, he should be bid come about to the Private _Grate_ above stairs, which he did, and she went to him, leaving _Isabella_ even dead on the Bed, at the very name of _Henault_: But the more she conceal'd her Flame, the more violently it rag'd, which she strove in vain by Prayers, and those Recourses of Solitude to lessen; all this did but augment the Pain, and was Oyl to the Fire, so that she now could hope, that nothing but Death would put an end to her Griefs, and her Infamy. She was eternally thinking on him, how handsome his Face, how delicate every Feature, how charming his Air, how graceful his Meen, how soft and good his Disposition, and how witty and entertaining his Conversation. She now fancy'd, she was at the _Grate_, talking to him as she us'd to be, and blest those happy Hours she past then, and bewail'd her Misfortune, that she is no more destin'd to be so Happy, then gives a loose to Grief; Griefs, at which, no Mortals, but Despairing Lovers, can guess, or how tormenting they are; where the most easie Moments are, those, wherein one resolves to kill ones self, and the happiest Thought is d.a.m.nation; but from these Imaginations, she endeavours to fly, all frighted with horror; but, alas! whither would she fly, but to a Life more full of horror? She considers well, she cannot bear Despairing Love, and finds it impossible to cure her Despair; she cannot fly from the Thoughts of the Charming _Henault_, and 'tis impossible to quit 'em; and, at this rate, she found, Life could not long support it self, but would either reduce her to Madness, and so render her an hated Object of Scorn to the Censuring World, or force her Hand to commit a Murder upon her self. This she had found, this she had well consider'd, nor could her fervent and continual Prayers, her nightly Watchings, her Mortifications on the cold Marble in long Winter Season, and all her Acts of Devotion abate one spark of this shameful Feaver of Love, that was destroying her within. When she had rag'd and struggled with this unruly Pa.s.sion, 'till she was quite tir'd and breathless, finding all her force in vain, she fill'd her fancy with a thousand charming _Ideas_ of the lovely _Henault_, and, in that soft fit, had a mind to satisfy her panting Heart, and give it one Joy more, by beholding the Lord of its Desires, and the Author of its Pains: Pleas'd, yet trembling, at this Resolve, she rose from the Bed where she was laid, and softly advanc'd to the Stair-Case, from whence there open'd that Room where Dame _Katteriena_ was, and where there was a private _Grate_, at which, she was entertaining her _Brother_; they were earnest in Discourse, and so loud, that _Isabella_ could easily hear all they said, and the first words were from _Katteriena_, who, in a sort of Anger, cry'd, 'Urge me no more! My Virtue is too nice, to become an Advocate for a Pa.s.sion, that can tend to nothing but your Ruin; for, suppose I should tell the fair _Isabella_, you dye for her, what can it avail you? What hope can any Man have, to move the Heart of a Virgin, so averse to Love? A Virgin, whose Modesty and Virtue is so very curious, it would fly the very word, Love, as some monstrous Witchcraft, or the foulest of Sins, who would loath me for bringing so lewd a Message, and banish you her Sight, as the Object of her Hate and Scorn; is it unknown to you, how many of the n.o.blest Youths of _Flanders_ have address'd themselves to her in vain, when yet she was in the World? Have you been ignorant, how the young Count de _Villenoys_ languished, in vain, almost to Death for her? And, that no Persuasions, no Attractions in him, no wordly Advantages, or all his Pleadings, who had a Wit and Spirit capable of prevailing on any Heart, less severe and harsh, than hers? Do you not know, that all was lost on this insensible fair one, even when she was a proper Object for the Adoration of the Young and Amorous? And can you hope, now she has so entirely wedded her future days to Devotion, and given all to Heaven; nay, lives a Life here more like a Saint, than a Woman; rather an Angel, than a mortal Creature? Do you imagin, with any Rhetorick you can deliver, now to turn the Heart, and whole Nature, of this Divine Maid, to consider your Earthly Pa.s.sion? No, 'tis fondness, and an injury to her Virtue, to harbour such a Thought; quit it, quit it, my dear Brother! before it ruin your Repose.' 'Ah, Sister! (replied the dejected _Henault_) your Counsel comes too late, and your Reasons are of too feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the Charming _Isabella's_ Eyes have fix'd in my Heart and Soul; and I am undone, unless she know my Pain, which I shall dye, before I shall ever dare mention to her; but you, young Maids, have a thousand Familiarities together, can jest, and play, and say a thousand things between Railery and Earnest, that may first hint what you would deliver, and insinuate into each others Hearts a kind of Curiosity to know more; for naturally, (my dear Sister) Maids, are curious and vain; and however Divine the Mind of the fair _Isabella_ may be, it bears the Tincture still of Mortal Woman.'

'Suppose this true, how could this Mortal part about her Advantage you, (said _Katteriena_) all that you can expect from this Discovery, (if she should be content to hear it, and to return you pity) would be, to make her wretched, like your self? What farther can you hope?' 'Oh! talk not, (replied _Henault_) of so much Happiness! I do not expect to be so blest, that she should pity me, or love to a degree of Inquietude; 'tis sufficient, for the ease of my Heart, that she know its Pains, and what it suffers for her; that she would give my Eyes leave to gaze upon her, and my Heart to vent a Sigh now and then; and, when I dare, to give me leave to speak, and tell her of my Pa.s.sion; This, this, is all, my Sister.' And, at that word, the Tears glided down his Cheeks, and he declin'd his Eyes, and set a Look so charming, and so sad, that _Isabella_, whose Eyes were fix'd upon him, was a thousand times ready to throw her self into the Room, and to have made a Confession, how sensible she was of all she had heard and seen: But, with much ado, she contain'd and satisfy'd her self, with knowing, that she was ador'd by him whom she ador'd, and, with Prudence that is natural to her, she withdrew, and waited with patience the event of their Discourse. She impatiently long'd to know, how _Katteriena_ would manage this Secret her Brother had given her, and was pleas'd, that the Friendship and Prudence of that Maid had conceal'd her Pa.s.sion from her Brother; and now contented and joyful beyond imagination, to find her self belov'd, she knew she could dissemble her own Pa.s.sion and make him the first Aggressor; the first that lov'd, or at least, that should seem to do so.

This Thought restores her so great a part of her Peace of Mind, that she resolv'd to see him, and to dissemble with _Katteriena_ so far, as to make her believe, she had subdu'd that Pa.s.sion, she was really asham'd to own; she now, with her Woman's Skill, begins to practise an Art she never before understood, and has recourse to Cunning, and resolves to seem to rea.s.sume her former Repose: But hearing _Katteriena_ approach, she laid her self again on her Bed, where she had left her, but compos'd her Face to more chearfulness, and put on a Resolution that indeed deceiv'd the Sister, who was extreamly pleased, she said, to see her look so well: When _Isabella_ reply'd, 'Yes, I am another Woman now; I hope Heaven has heard, and granted, my long and humble Supplications, and driven from my Heart this tormenting G.o.d, that has so long disturb'd my purer Thoughts.' 'And are you sure, (said Dame _Katteriena_) that this wanton Deity is repell'd by the n.o.ble force of your Resolutions? Is he never to return?' 'No, (replied _Isabella_) never to my Heart.' 'Yes, (said _Katteriena_) if you should see the lovely Murderer of your Repose, your Wound would bleed anew.' At this, _Isabella_ smiling with a little Disdain, reply'd, 'Because you once to love, and _Henault's_ Charms defenceless found me, ah! do you think I have no Fort.i.tude? But so in Fondness lost, remiss in Virtue, that when I have resolv'd, (and see it necessary for my after-Quiet) to want the power of keeping that Resolution? No, scorn me, and despise me then, as lost to all the Glories of my s.e.x, and all that Nicety I've hitherto preserv'd.' There needed no more from a Maid of _Isabella's_ Integrity and Reputation, to convince any one of the Sincerity of what she said, since, in the whole course of her Life, she never could be charg'd with an Untruth, or an Equivocation; and _Katteriena_ a.s.sur'd her, she believ'd her, and was infinitely glad she had vanquish'd a Pa.s.sion, that would have prov'd destructive to her Repose: _Isabella_ reply'd, She had not altogether vanquish'd her Pa.s.sion, she did not boast of so absolute a power over her soft Nature, but had resolv'd things great, and Time would work the Cure; that she hop'd, _Katteriena_ would make such Excuses to her Brother, for her not appearing at the _Grate_ so gay and entertaining as she us'd, and, by a little absence, she should retrieve the Liberty she had lost: But she desir'd, such Excuses might be made for her, that young _Henault_ might not perceive the Reason. At the naming him, she had much ado not to shew some Concern extraordinary, and _Katteriena_ a.s.sur'd her, She had now a very good Excuse to keep from the _Grate_, when he was at it; 'For, (said she) now you have resolv'd, I may tell you, he is dying for you, raving in Love, and has this day made me promise to him, to give you some account of his Pa.s.sion, and to make you sensible of his Languishment: I had not told you this, (reply'd _Katteriena_) but that I believe you fortify'd with brave Resolution and Virtue, and that this knowledge will rather put you more upon your Guard, than you were before.' While she spoke, she fixed her Eyes on _Isabella_, to see what alteration it would make in her Heart and Looks; but the Master-piece of this young Maid's Art was shewn in this minute, for she commanded her self so well, that her very Looks dissembled and shew'd no concern at a Relation, that made her Soul dance with Joy; but it was, what she was prepar'd for, or else I question her Fort.i.tude.

But, with a Calmness, which absolutely subdu'd _Katteriena_, she reply'd, 'I am almost glad he has confess'd a Pa.s.sion for me, and you shall confess to him, you told me of it, and that I absent my self from the _Grate_, on purpose to avoid the sight of a Man, who durst love me, and confess it; and I a.s.sure you, my dear Sister! (continued she, dissembling) You could not have advanc'd my Cure by a more effectual way, than telling me of his Presumption.' At that word, _Katteriena_ joyfully related to her all that had pa.s.s'd between young _Henault_ and her self, and how he implor'd her Aid in this Amour; at the end of which Relation, _Isabella_ smil'd, and carelesly reply'd, 'I pity him': And so going to their Devotion, they had no more Discourse of the Lover.

In the mean time, young _Henault_ was a little satisfy'd, to know, his Sister would discover his Pa.s.sion to the lovely _Isabella_; and though he dreaded the return, he was pleas'd that she should know, she had a Lover that ador'd her, though even without hope; for though the thought of possessing _Isabella_, was the most ravishing that could be; yet he had a dread upon him, when he thought of it, for he could not hope to accomplish that, without Sacrilege; and he was a young Man, very Devout, and even bigotted in Religion; and would often question and debate within himself, that, if it were possible, he should come to be belov'd by this Fair Creature, and that it were possible for her, to grant all that Youth in Love could require, whether he should receive the Blessing offer'd? And though he ador'd the Maid, whether he should not abhor the _Nun_ in his Embraces? 'Twas an undetermin'd Thought, that chill'd his Fire as often as it approach'd; but he had too many that rekindled it again with the greater Flame and Ardor.

His impatience to know, what Success _Katteriena_ had, with the Relation she was to make to _Isabella_ in his behalf, brought him early to _Iper_ the next day. He came again to the private _Grate_, where his Sister receiving him, and finding him, with a sad and dejected Look, expect what she had to say; she told him, That Look well became the News she had for him, it being such, as ought to make him, both Griev'd, and Penitent; for, to obey him, she had so absolutely displeas'd _Isabella_, that she was resolv'd never to believe her her Friend more, 'Or to see you, (said she) therefore, as you have made me commit a Crime against my Conscience, against my Order, against my Friendship, and against my Honour, you ought to do some brave thing; take some n.o.ble Resolution, worthy of your Courage, to redeem all; for your Repose, I promis'd, I would let Isabella know you lov'd, and, for the mitigation of my Crime, you ought to let me tell her, you have surmounted your Pa.s.sion, as the last Remedy of Life and Fame.'

At these her last words, the Tears gush'd from his Eyes, and he was able only, a good while, to sigh; at last, cry'd, 'What! see her no more! see the Charming _Isabella_ no more!' And then vented the Grief of his Soul in so pa.s.sionate a manner, as his Sister had all the Compa.s.sion imaginable for him, but thought it great Sin and Indiscretion to cherish his Flame: So that, after a while, having heard her Counsel, he reply'd, 'And is this all, my Sister, you will do to save a Brother?' 'All!

(reply'd she) I would not be the occasion of making a _NUN_ violate her Vow, to save a Brother's Life, no, nor my own; a.s.sure your self of this, and take it as my last Resolution: Therefore, if you will be content with the Friendship of this young Lady, and so behave your self, that we may find no longer the Lover in the Friend, we shall rea.s.sume our former Conversation, and live with you, as we ought; otherwise, your Presence will continually banish her from the _Grate_, and, in time, make both her you love, and your self, a Town Discourse.'

Much more to this purpose she said, to dissuade him, and bid him retire, and keep himself from thence, till he could resolve to visit them without a Crime; and she protested, if he did not do this, and master his foolish Pa.s.sion, she would let her Father understand his Conduct, who was a Man of temper so very precise, that should he believe, his Son should have a thought of Love to a Virgin vow'd to Heaven, he would abandon him to Shame, and eternal Poverty, by disinheriting him of all he could: Therefore, she said, he ought to lay all this to his Heart, and weigh it with his unheedy Pa.s.sion. While the Sister talk'd thus wisely, _Henault_ was not without his Thoughts, but consider'd as she spoke, but did not consider in the right place; he was not considering, how to please a Father, and save an Estate, but how to manage the matter so, to establish himself, as he was before with _Isabella_; for he imagin'd, since already she knew his Pa.s.sion, and that if after that she would be prevail'd with to see him, he might, some lucky Minute or other, have the pleasure of speaking for himself, at least, he should again see and talk to her, which was a joyful Thought in the midst of so many dreadful ones: And, as if he had known what pa.s.s'd in _Isabella's_ Heart, he, by a strange sympathy, took the same measures to deceive _Katteriena_, a well-meaning young Lady, and easily impos'd on from her own Innocence, he resolv'd to dissemble Patience, since he must have that Virtue, and own'd, his Sister's Reasons were just, and ought to be persu'd; that she had argu'd him into half his Peace, and that he would endeavour to recover the rest; that Youth ought to be pardon'd a thousand Failings, and Years would reduce him to a condition of laughing at his Follies of Youth, but that grave Direction was not yet arriv'd: And so desiring, she would pray for his Conversion, and that she would recommend him to the Devotions of the Fair _Isabella_, he took his leave, and came no more to the _Nunnery_ in ten Days; in all which time, none but Impatient Lovers can guess, what Pain and Languishments _Isabella_ suffer'd, not knowing the Cause of his Absence, nor daring to enquire; but she bore it out so admirably, that Dame _Katteriena_ never so much as suspected she had any Thoughts of that nature that perplex'd her, and now believ'd indeed she had conquer'd all her Uneasiness: And one day, when _Isabella_ and she were alone together, she ask'd that fair Dissembler, if she did not admire at the Conduct and Resolution of her Brother? 'Why!' (reply'd _Isabella_ unconcernedly, while her Heart was fainting within, for fear of ill News:) With that, _Katteriena_ told her the last Discourse she had with her Brother, and how at last she had persuaded him (for her sake) to quit his Pa.s.sion; and that he had promis'd, he would endeavour to surmount it; and that, that was the reason he was absent now, and they were to see him no more, till he had made a Conquest over himself. You may a.s.sure your self, this News was not so welcom to _Isabella_, as _Katteriena_ imagin'd; yet still she dissembled, with a force, beyond what the most cunning Pract.i.tioner could have shewn, and carry'd her self before People, as if no Pressures had lain upon her Heart; but when alone retir'd, in order to her Devotion, she would vent her Griefs in the most deplorable manner, that a distress'd distracted Maid could do, and which, in spite of all her severe Penances, she found no abatement of.

At last _Henault_ came again to the _Monastery_, and, with a Look as gay as he could possibly a.s.sume, he saw his Sister, and told her, He had gain'd an absolute Victory over his Heart; and desir'd, he might see _Isabella_, only to convince, both her, and _Katteriena_, that he was no longer a Lover of that fair Creature, that had so lately charm'd him; that he had set Five thousand Pounds a Year, against a fruitless Pa.s.sion, and found the solid Gold much the heavier in the Scale: And he smil'd, and talk'd the whole Day of indifferent things, with his Sister, and ask'd no more for _Isabella_; nor did _Isabella_ look, or ask, after him, but in her Heart. Two Months pa.s.s'd in this Indifference, till it was taken notice of, that Sister _Isabella_ came not to the _Grate_, when _Henault_ was there, as she us'd to do; this being spoken to Dame _Katteriena_, she told it to _Isabella_, and said, 'The _NUNS_ would believe, there was some Cause for her Absence, if she did not appear again': That if she could trust her Heart, she was sure she could trust her Brother, for he thought no more of her, she was confident; this, in lieu of pleasing, was a Dagger to the Heart of _Isabella_, who thought it time to retrieve the flying Lover, and therefore told _Katteriena_, She would the next Day entertain at the Low _Grate_, as she was wont to do, and accordingly, as soon as any People of Quality came, she appear'd there, where she had not been two Minutes, but she saw the lovely _Henault_, and it was well for both, that People were in the Room, they had else both sufficiently discover'd their Inclinations, or rather their not to be conceal'd Pa.s.sions; after the General Conversation was over, by the going away of the Gentlemen that were at the _Grate_, _Katteriena_ being employ'd elsewhere, _Isabella_ was at last left alone with _Henault_; but who can guess the Confusion of these two Lovers, who wish'd, yet fear'd, to know each others Thoughts? She trembling with a dismal Apprehension, that he lov'd no more; and he almost dying with fear, she should Reproach or Upbraid him with his Presumption; so that both being possess'd with equal Sentiments of Love, Fear, and Shame, they both stood fix'd with dejected Looks and Hearts, that heav'd with stifled Sighs. At last, _Isabella_, the softer and tender-hearted of the two, tho' not the most a Lover perhaps, not being able to contain her Love any longer within the bounds of Dissimulation or Discretion, being by Nature innocent, burst out into Tears, and all fainting with pressing Thoughts within, she fell languishly into a Chair that stood there, while the distracted _Henault_, who could not come to her a.s.sistance, and finding Marks of Love, rather than Anger or Disdain, in that Confusion of _Isabella's_, throwing himself on his Knees at the _Grate_, implor'd her to behold him, to hear him, and to pardon him, who dy'd every moment for her, and who ador'd her with a violent Ardor; but yet, with such an one, as should (tho' he perish'd with it) be conformable to her Commands; and as he spoke, the Tears stream'd down his dying Eyes, that beheld her with all the tender Regard that ever Lover was capable of; she recover'd a little, and turn'd her too beautiful Face to him, and pierc'd him with a Look, that darted a thousand Joys and Flames into his Heart, with Eyes, that told him her Heart was burning and dying for him; for which a.s.surances, he made Ten thousand a.s.severations of his never-dying Pa.s.sion, and expressing as many Raptures and Excesses of Joy, to find her Eyes and Looks confess, he was not odious to her, and that the knowledge he was her Lover, did not make her hate him: In fine, he spoke so many things all soft and moving, and so well convinc'd her of his Pa.s.sion, that she at last was compell'd by a mighty force, absolutely irresistible, to speak.