Volume V Part 17 (1/2)

THE LUCKY MISTAKE: A NEW NOVEL.

The River _Loyre_ has on its delightful Banks abundance of handsome, beautiful and rich Towns and Villages, to which the n.o.ble Stream adds no small Graces and Advantages, blessing their Fields with Plenty, and their Eyes with a thousand Diversions. In one of these happily situated Towns, called _Orleans_, where abundance of People of the best Quality and Condition reside, there was a rich n.o.bleman, now retir'd from the busy Court, where in his Youth he had been bred, weary'd with the Toils of Ceremony and Noise, to enjoy that perfect Tranquillity of Life, which is no where to be found but in Retreat, a faithful Friend, and a good Library; and, as the admirable _Horace_ says, in a little House and a large Garden. Count _Bellyaurd_, for so was this n.o.bleman call'd, was of this Opinion; and the rather, because he had one only Son, called _Rinaldo_, now grown to the Age of fifteen, who having all the excellent Qualities and Graces of Youth by Nature, he would bring him up in all Virtues and n.o.ble Sciences, which he believ'd the Gaiety and l.u.s.tre of the Court might divert: he therefore in his Retirement spar'd no Cost to those that could instruct and accomplish him; and he had the best Tutors and Masters that could be purchased at Court: _Bellyaurd_ making far less Account of Riches than of fine Parts. He found his Son capable of all Impressions, having a Wit suitable to his delicate Person, so that he was the sole Joy of his Life, and the Darling of his Eyes.

In the very next House, which join'd close to that of _Bellyaurd's_, there lived another Count, who had in his Youth been banished the Court of _France_ for some Misunderstandings in some high Affairs wherein he was concern'd: his Name was _De Pais_, a Man of great Birth, but of no Fortune; or at least one not suitable to the Grandeur of his Original.

And as it is most natural for great Souls to be most proud (if I may call a handsome Disdain by that vulgar Name) when they are most depress'd; so _De Pais_ was more retir'd, more estrang'd from his Neighbours, and kept a greater Distance, than if he had enjoy'd all he had lost at Court; and took more Solemnity and State upon him, because he would not be subject to the Reproaches of the World, by making himself familiar with it: So that he rarely visited; and, contrary to the Custom of those in _France_, who are easy of Access, and free of Conversation, he kept his Family retir'd so close, that 'twas rare to see any of them; and when they went abroad, which was but seldom, they wanted nothing as to outward Appearance, that was fit for his Quality, and what was much above his Condition.

This old Count had two only Daughters, of exceeding Beauty, who gave the generous Father ten thousand Torments, as often as he beheld them, when he consider'd their extreme Beauty, their fine Wit, their Innocence, Modesty, and above all their Birth; and that he had not a Fortune to marry them according to their Quality; and below it, he had rather see them laid in their silent Graves, than consent to it: for he scorn'd the World should see him forced by his Poverty to commit an Action below his Dignity.

There lived in a neighbouring Town, a certain n.o.bleman, Friend to _De Pais_, call'd Count _Vernole_, a Man of about forty years of Age, of low Stature, Complexion very black and swarthy, lean, lame, extreme proud and haughty; extracted of a Descent from the Blood-Royal; not extremely brave, but very glorious: he had no very great Estate, but was in Election of a greater, and of an Addition of Honour from the King, his Father having done most worthy Services against the _Hugonots_, and by the high Favour of Cardinal _Mazarine_, was represented to his Majesty, as a Man related to the Crown, of great Name, but small Estate: so that there were now nothing but great Expectations and Preparations in the Family of Count _Vernole_ to go to the Court, to which he daily hoped an Invitation or Command.

_Vernole's_ Fortune being hitherto something a-kin to that of _De Pais_, there was a greater Correspondency between these two Gentlemen, than they had with any other Persons; they accounting themselves above the rest of the World, believed none so proper and fit for their Conversation, as that of each other: so that there was a very particular Intimacy between them. Whenever they went abroad, they clubb'd their Train, to make one great Show; and were always together, bemoaning each other's Fortune, and that from so high a Descent, as one from Monarchs by the Mother's side, and the other from Dukes of the Father's Side, they were reduc'd by Fate to the Degree of private Gentlemen. They would often consult how to manage Affairs most to Advantage, and often _De Pais_ would ask Counsel of _Vernole_, how best he should dispose of his Daughters, which now were about their ninth Year the eldest, and eighth the youngest. _Vernole_ had often seen those two Buds of Beauty, and already saw opening in _Atlante's_ Face and Mind (for that was the Name of the eldest, and _Charlot_ the youngest) a Glory of Wit and Beauty, which could not but one Day display it self, with dazling l.u.s.tre, to the wondring World.

_Vernole_ was a great Virtuoso, of a Humour nice, delicate, critical and opinionative: he had nothing of the _French_ Mein in him, but all the Gravity of the Don. His ill-favour'd Person, and his low Estate, put him out of Humour with the World; and because that should not upbraid or reproach his Follies and Defects, he was sure to be beforehand with that, and to be always satirick upon it; and lov'd to live and act contrary to the Custom and Usage of all Mankind besides.

He was infinitely delighted to find a Man of his own Humour in _De Pais_, or at least a Man that would be persuaded to like his so well, to live up to it; and it was no little Joy and Satisfaction to him to find, that he kept his Daughters in that Severity, which was wholly agreeable to him, and so contrary to the Manner and Fas.h.i.+on of the _French_ Quality; who allow all Freedoms, which to _Vernole's_ rigid Nature, seem'd as so many Steps to Vice, and in his Opinion, the Ruiner of all Virtue and Honour in Womankind. _De Pais_ was extremely glad his Conduct was so well interpreted, which was no other in him than a proud Frugality; who, because they could not appear in so much Gallantry as their Quality required, kept 'em retir'd, and unseen to all, but his particular Friends, of whom _Vernole_ was the chief.

_Vernole_ never appear'd before _Atlante_ (which was seldom) but he a.s.sum'd a Gravity and Respect fit to have entertain'd a Maid of Twenty, or rather a Matron of much greater Years and Judgment. His Discourses were always of Matters of State or Philosophy; and sometimes when _De Pais_ would (laughing) say, 'He might as well entertain _Atlante_ with _Greek_ and _Hebrew_,' he would reply gravely, 'You are mistaken, Sir, I find the Seeds of great and profound Matter in the Soul of this young Maid, which ought to be nourish'd now while she is young, and they will grow up to very great Perfection: I find _Atlante_ capable of the n.o.ble Virtues of the Mind, and am infinitely mistaken in my Observations, and Art of Physiognomy, if _Atlante_ be not born for greater Things than her Fortune does now Promise: She will be very considerable in the World, (believe me) and this will arrive to her perfectly from the Force of her Charms.' _De Pais_ was extremely overjoy'd to hear such Good prophesied of _Atlante_, and from that Time set a sort of an Esteem upon her, which he did not on _Charlot_ his younger; whom, by the Persuasions of _Vernole_, he resolv'd to put in a Monastery, that what he had might descend to _Atlante_: not but he confess'd _Charlot_ had Beauty extremely attractive, and a Wit that promised much, when it should be cultivated by Years and Experience; and would shew it self with great Advantage and l.u.s.tre in a Monastery. All this pleased _De Pais_ very well, who was easily persuaded, since he had not a Fortune to marry her well in the World.

As yet _Vernole_ had never spoke to _Atlante_ of Love, nor did his Gravity think it Prudence to discover his Heart to so young a Maid; he waited her more sensible Years, when he could hope to have some Return.

And all he expected from this her tender Age, was by his daily Converse with her, and the Presents he made her suitable to her Years, to ingratiate himself insensibly into her Friends.h.i.+p and Esteem, since she was not yet capable of Love; but even in that he mistook his Aim, for every day he grew more and more disagreeable to _Atlante_, and would have been her absolute Aversion, had she known she had every Day entertained a Lover; but as she grew in Years and Sense, he seemed the more despicable in her Eyes as to his Person; yet as she had respect to his Parts and Qualities, she paid him all the Complaisance she could, and which was due to him, and so must be confess'd. Tho' he had a stiff Formality in all he said and did, yet he had Wit and Learning, and was a great Philosopher. As much of his Learning as _Atlante_ was capable of attaining to, he made her Mistress of, and that was no small Portion; for all his Discourse was fine and easily comprehended, his Notions of Philosophy fit for Ladies; and he took greater Pains with _Atlante_, than any Master would have done with a Scholar: So that it was most certain, he added very great Accomplishment to her natural Wit: and the more, because she took a great Delight in Philosophy; which very often made her impatient of his Coming, especially when she had many Questions to ask him concerning it, and she would often receive him with a Pleasure in her Face, which he did not fail to interpret to his own Advantage, being very apt to flatter himself. Her Sister _Charlot_ would often ask her, 'How she could give whole Afternoons to so disagreeable a Man. What is it (said she) that charms you so? his tawny Leather-Face, his extraordinary high Nose, his wide Mouth and Eye-brows, that hang low'ring over his Eyes, his lean Carcase, and his lame and halting Hips?' But _Atlante_ would discreetly reply, 'If I must grant all you say of Count _Vernole_ to be true, yet he has a Wit and Learning that will atone sufficiently for all those Faults you mention: A fine Soul is infinitely to be preferr'd to a fine Body; this decays, but that's eternal; and Age that ruins one, refines the other.' Tho' possibly _Atlante_ thought as ill of the Count as her Sister, yet in Respect to him, she would not own it.

_Atlante_ was now arriv'd to her thirteenth Year, when her Beauty, which every Day increas'd, became the Discourse of the whole Town, which had already gain'd her as many Lovers as had beheld her; for none saw her without languis.h.i.+ng for her, or at least, but what were in very great Admiration of her. Every body talk'd of the young _Atlante_, and all the n.o.blemen, who had Sons (knowing the Smallness of her Fortune, and the l.u.s.tre of her Beauty) would send them, for fear of their being charm'd with her Beauty, either to some other part of the World, or exhorted them, by way of Precaution, to keep out of her Sight. Old _Bellyaurd_ was one of those wise Parents; and timely Prevention, as he thought, of _Rinaldo's_ falling in Love with _Atlante_, perhaps was the Occasion of his being so: He had before heard of _Atlante_, and of her Beauty, yet it had made no Impressions on his Heart; but his Father no sooner forbid him Loving, than he felt a new Desire tormenting him, of seeing this lovely and dangerous young Person: he wonders at his unaccountable Pain, which daily sollicits him within, to go where he may behold this Beauty; of whom he frames a thousand Ideas, all such as were most agreeable to him; but then upbraids his Fancy for not forming her half so delicate as she was; and longs yet more to see her, to know how near she approaches to the Picture he has drawn of her in his Mind: and tho' he knew she liv'd the next House to him, yet he knew also she was kept within like a vow'd _Nun_, or with the Severity of a _Spaniard_. And tho' he had a Chamber, which had a jutting Window, that look'd just upon the Door of Monsieur _De Pais_, and that he would watch many Hours at a time, in hope to see them go out, yet he could never get a Glimpse of her; yet he heard she often frequented the Church of _our Lady_. Thither then young _Rinaldo_ resolv'd to go, and did so two or three Mornings; in which time, to his unspeakable Grief, he saw no Beauty appear that charm'd him; and yet he fancy'd that _Atlante_ was there, and that he had seen her; that some one of those young Ladies that he saw in the Church was she, tho' he had no body to enquire of, and that she was not so fair as the World reported; for which he would often sigh, as if he had lost some great Expectation. However, he ceased not to frequent this Church, and one day saw a young Beauty, who at first glimpse made his Heart leap to his Mouth, and fall a trembling again into its wonted Place; for it immediately told him, that that young Maid was _Atlante_: she was with her Sister _Charlot_, who was very handsome, but not comparable to _Atlante_. He fix'd his Eyes upon her as she kneel'd at the Altar; he never moved from that charming Face as long as she remain'd there; he forgot all Devotion, but what he paid to her; he ador'd her, he burnt and languished already for her, and found he must possess _Atlante_ or die. Often as he gaz'd upon her, he saw her fair Eyes lifted up towards his, where they often met; which she perceiving, would cast hers down into her Bosom, or on her Book, and blush as if she had done a Fault.

_Charlot_ perceiv'd all the Motions of _Rinaldo_, how he folded his Arms, how he sigh'd and gaz'd on her Sister; she took notice of his Clothes, his Garniture, and every particular of his Dress, as young Girls use to do; and seeing him so very handsome, and so much better dress'd than all the young Cavaliers that were in the Church, she was very much pleas'd with him; and could not forbear saying, in a low Voice, to _Atlante_, 'Look, look my Sister, what a pretty Monsieur yonder is! see how fine his Face is, how delicate his Hair, how gallant his Dress! and do but look how he gazes on you!' This would make _Atlante_ blush anew, who durst not raise her Eyes for fear she should encounter his. While he had the Pleasure to imagine they were talking of him, and he saw in the pretty Face of _Charlot_, that what she said was not to his Disadvantage, and by the Blushes of _Atlante_, that she was not displeas'd with what was spoken to her; he perceiv'd the young one importunate with her; and _Atlante_ jogging her with her Elbow, as much as to say, Hold your Peace: all this he made a kind Interpretation of, and was transported with Joy at the good Omens. He was willing to flatter his new Flame, and to compliment his young Desire with a little Hope; but the divine Ceremony ceasing, _Atlante_ left the Church, and it being very fair Weather, she walk'd home. _Rinaldo_, who saw her going, felt all the Agonies of a Lover, who parts with all that can make him happy; and seeing only _Atlante_ attended with her Sister, and a Footman following with their Books, he was a thousand times about to speak to 'em; but he no sooner advanc'd a step or two towards 'em to that purpose (for he followed them) but his Heart fail'd, and a certain Awe and Reverence, or rather the Fears and Tremblings of a Lover, prevented him: but when he consider'd, that possibly he might never have so favourable an Opportunity again, he resolv'd a-new, and called up so much Courage to his Heart, as to speak to _Atlante_; but before he did so, _Charlot_ looking behind her, saw _Rinaldo_ very near to 'em, and cry'd out with a Voice of Joy, 'Oh! Sister, Sister! look where the handsome _Monsieur_ is, just behind us! sure he is some-body of Quality, for see he has two Footmen that follow him, in just such Liveries, and so rich as those of our Neighbour _Monsieur Bellyaurd_.' At this _Atlante_ could not forbear, but before she was aware of it, turn'd her Head, and look'd on _Rinaldo_; which encourag'd him to advance, and putting off his Hat, which he clapt under his Arm, with a low Bow, said, 'Ladies, you are slenderly attended, and so many Accidents arrive to the Fair in the rude Streets, that I humbly implore you will permit me, whose Duty it is as a Neighbour, to wait on you to your Door.' 'Sir, (said _Atlante_ blus.h.i.+ng) we fear no Insolence, and need no Protector; or if we did, we should not be so rude to take you out of your way, to serve us.' 'Madam, (said he) my way lies yours. I live at the next Door, and am Son to _Bellyaurd_, your Neighbour. But, Madam, (added he) if I were to go all my Life out of the way, to do you Service, I should take it for the greatest Happiness that could arrive to me; but, Madam, sure a Man can never be out of his Way, who has the Honour of so charming Company.' _Atlante_ made no reply to this, but blush'd and bow'd: But _Charlot_ said, 'Nay, Sir, if you are our Neighbour, we will give you leave to conduct us home; but pray, Sir, how came you to know we are your Neighbours? for we never saw you before, to our knowledge.' 'My pretty Miss, (reply'd _Rinaldo_) I knew it from that transcendent Beauty that appear'd in your Faces, and fine Shapes; for I have heard, there was no Beauty in the World like that of _Atlante's_; and I no sooner saw her, but my Heart told me it was she.' 'Heart! (said _Charlot_ laughing) why, do Hearts use to speak?' 'The most intelligible of any thing, (_Rinaldo_ reply'd) when 'tis tenderly touch'd, when 'tis charm'd and transported.' At these Words he sigh'd, and _Atlante_, to his extreme Satisfaction, blush'd.

'Touch'd, charm'd, and transported, (said _Charlot_) what's that? And how do you do to have it be all these things? For I would give any thing in the World to have my Heart speak.' 'Oh! (said _Rinaldo_) your Heart is too young, it is not yet arrived to the Years of Speaking; about thirteen or fourteen, it may possibly be saying a thousand soft things to you; but it must be first inspir'd by some n.o.ble Object, whose Idea it must retain.' 'What (reply'd the pretty Prattler) I'll warrant I must be in Love?' 'Yes, (said _Rinaldo_) most pa.s.sionately, or you will have but little Conversation with your Heart.' 'Oh! (reply'd she) I am afraid the Pleasure of such a Conversation, will not make me amends for the Pain that Love will give me.' 'That (said _Rinaldo_) is according as the Object is kind, and as you hope; if he love, and you hope, you will have double Pleasure: And in this, how great an Advantage have fair Ladies above us Men! 'Tis always impossible for you to love in vain, you have your Choice of a thousand Hearts, which you have subdu'd, and may not only chuse your Slaves, but be a.s.sur'd of 'em; without speaking, you are belov'd, it needs not cost you a Sigh or a Tear: But unhappy Man is often destin'd to give his Heart, where it is not regarded, to sigh, to weep, and languish, without any hope of Pity.' 'You speak so feelingly, Sir, (said _Charlot_) that I am afraid this is your Case.' 'Yes, Madam, (reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) I am that unhappy Man.' 'Indeed it is pity (said she.) Pray, how long have you been so?' 'Ever since I heard of the charming _Atlante_, (reply'd he, sighing again) I ador'd her Character; but now I have seen her, I die for her.' 'For me, Sir! (said _Atlante_, who had not yet spoke) this is the common Compliment of all the young Men, who pretend to be Lovers; and if one should pity all those Sighers, we should have but very little left for our selves.' 'I believe (said _Rinaldo_) there are none that tell you so, who do not mean as they say: Yet among all those Adorers, and those who say they will die for you, you will find none will be so good as their Words but _Rinaldo_.'

'Perhaps (said _Atlante_) of all those who tell me of Dying, there are none that tell me of it with so little Reason as _Rinaldo_, if that be your Name, Sir.' 'Madam, it is, (said he) and who am transported with an unspeakable Joy, to hear those last Words from your fair Mouth: and let me, Oh lovely _Atlante!_ a.s.sure you, that what I have said, are not Words of course, but proceed from a Heart that has vow'd it self eternally yours, even before I had the Happiness to behold this divine Person; but now that my Eyes have made good all my Heart before imagin'd, and did but hope, I swear, I will die a thousand Deaths, rather than violate what I have said to you; that I adore you; that my Soul and all my Faculties, are charm'd with your Beauty and Innocence, and that my Life and Fortune, not inconsiderable, shall be laid at your Feet.' This he spoke with a Fervency of Pa.s.sion, that left her no Doubt of what he had said; yet she blush'd for Shame, and was a little angry at her self, for suffering him to say so much to her, the very first time she saw him, and accused her self for giving him any Encouragement: And in this Confusion she replied, 'Sir, you have said too much to be believ'd; and I cannot imagine so short an Acquaintance can make so considerable an Impression; of which Confession I accuse my self much more than you, in that I did not only hearken to what you said, without forbidding you to entertain me at that rate, but for unheedily speaking something, that has encourag'd this Boldness; for so I must call it, in a Man so great a Stranger to me.' 'Madam (said he) if I have offended by the Suddenness of my presumptuous Discovery, I beseech you to consider my Reasons for it, the few Opportunities I am like to have, and the Impossibility of waiting on you, both from the Severity of your Father and mine; who, ere I saw you, warn'd me of my Fate, as if he foresaw I should fall in love, as soon as I should chance to see you; and for that Reason has kept me closer to my Studies, than hitherto I have been. And from that time I began to feel a Flame, which was kindled by Report alone, and the Description my Father gave of your wondrous and dangerous Beauty: Therefore, Madam, I have not suddenly told you of my Pa.s.sion.

I have been long your Lover, and have long languish'd without telling of my Pain; and you ought to pardon it now, since it is done with all the Respect and religious Awe, that 'tis possible for a Heart to deliver and unload it self in; therefore, Madam, if you have by chance uttered any thing, that I have taken Advantage or Hope from, I a.s.sure you 'tis so small, that you have no reason to repent it; but rather, if you would have me live, send me not from you, without a Confirmation of that little Hope. See, Madam, (said he, more earnestly and trembling) see we are almost arriv'd at our Homes, send me not to mine in a Despair that I cannot support with Life; but tell me, I shall be bless'd with your Sight, sometimes in your Balcony, which is very near to a jetting Window in our House, from whence I have sent many a longing Look towards yours, in hope to have seen my Soul's Tormentor.' 'I shall be very unwilling (said she) to enter into an Intrigue of Love or Friends.h.i.+p with a Man, whose Parents will be averse to my Happiness, and possibly mine as refractory, tho' they cannot but know such an Alliance would be very considerable, my Fortune not being suitable to yours: I tell you this, that you may withdraw in time from an Engagement, in which I find there will be a great many Obstacles.' 'Oh! Madam, (reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) if my Person be not disagreeable to you, you will have no occasion to fear the rest; 'tis that I dread, and that which is all my Fear.' He, sighing, beheld her with a languis.h.i.+ng Look, that told her, he expected her Answer; when she reply'd, 'Sir, if that will be Satisfaction enough for you at this time, I do a.s.sure you, I have no Aversion for your Person, in which I find more to be valu'd, than in any I have yet seen; and if what you say be real, and proceed from a Heart truly affected, I find, in spite of me, you will oblige me to give you Hope.'

They were come so near their own Houses, that he had not time to return her any Answer; but with a low Bow he acknowledg'd her Bounty, and express'd the Joy her last Words had given him, by a Look that made her understand he was charm'd and pleas'd; and she bowing to him with an Air of Satisfaction in her Face, he was well a.s.sur'd, there was nothing to be seen so lovely as she then appear'd, and left her to go into her own House: but till she was out of sight, he had not power to stir, and then sighing, retired to his own Apartment, to think over all that had past between them. He found nothing but what gave him a thousand Joys, in all she had said; and he blest this happy Day, and wondred how his Stars came so kind, to make him in one hour at once see _Atlante_, and have the happiness to know from her Mouth, that he was not disagreeable to her: Yet with this Satisfaction, he had a thousand Thoughts mix'd which were tormenting, and those were the Fear of their Parents; he foresaw from what his Father had said to him already, that it would be difficult to draw him to a Consent of his Marriage with _Atlante_. These Joys and Fears were his Companions all the Night, in which he took but little Rest. Nor was _Atlante_ without her Inquietudes: She found _Rinaldo_ more in her Thoughts than she wish'd, and a sudden Change of Humour, that made her know something was the matter with her more than usual; she calls to mind _Rinaldo's_ speaking of the Conversation with his Heart, and found hers would be tattling to her, if she would give way to it; and yet the more she strove to avoid it, the more it importun'd her, and in spight of all her Resistance, would tell her, that _Rinaldo_ had a thousand Charms: It tells her, that he loves and adores her, and that she would be the most cruel of her s.e.x, should she not be sensible of his Pa.s.sion. She finds a thousand Graces in his Person and Conversation, and as many Advantages in his Fortune, which was one of the most considerable in all those Parts; for his Estate exceeded that of the most n.o.ble Men in _Orleans_, and she imagines she should be the most fortunate of all Womankind in such a Match. With these Thoughts she employ'd all the Hours of the Night; so that she lay so long in Bed the next Day, that Count _Vernole_, who had invited himself to Dinner, came before she had quitted her Chamber, and she was forc'd to say, she had not been well. He had brought her a very fine Book, newly come out, of delicate Philosophy, fit for the Study of Ladies. But he appear'd so disagreeable to that Heart, wholly taken up with a new and fine Object, that she could now hardly pay him that Civility she was wont to do; while on the other side that little State and Pride _Atlante_ a.s.sum'd, made her appear the more charming to him: so that if _Atlante_ had no mind to begin a new Lesson of Philosophy, while she fancied her Thoughts were much better employ'd, the Count every moment expressing his Tenderness and Pa.s.sion, had as little an Inclination to instruct her, as she had to be instructed: Love had taught her a new Lesson, and he would fain teach her a new Lesson of Love, but fears it will be a diminis.h.i.+ng his Gravity and Grandeur, to open the Secrets of his Heart to so young a Maid; he therefore thinks it more agreeable to his Quality and Years, being about Forty, to use her Father's Authority in this Affair, and that it was sufficient for him to declare himself to Monsieur _De Pais_, who he knew would be proud of the Honour he did him. Some time past, before he could be persuaded even to declare himself to her Father: he fancies the little Coldness and Pride he saw in _Atlante's_ Face, which was not usual, proceeded from some Discovery of Pa.s.sion, which his Eyes had made, or now and then a Sigh, that unawares broke forth; and accuses himself of a Levity below his Quality, and the Dignity of his Wit and Gravity; and therefore a.s.sumes a more rigid and formal Behaviour than he was wont, which rendred him yet more disagreeable than before; and 'twas with greater Pain than ever, she gave him that Respect which was due to his Quality.

_Rinaldo_, after a restless Night, was up very early in the Morning; and tho' he was not certain of seeing his adorable _Atlante_, he dress'd himself with all that Care, as if he had been to have waited on her, and got himself into the Window, that overlook'd Monsieur _De Pais's_ Balcony, where he had not remain'd long, before he saw the pretty _Charlot_ come into it, not with any design of seeing _Rinaldo_, but to look and gaze about her a little. _Rinaldo_ saw her, and made her a very low Reverence, and found some disorder'd Joy on the sight of even _Charlot_, since she was Sister to _Atlante_. He call'd to her, (for the Window was so near her, he could easily be heard by her) and told her, 'He was infinitely indebted to her Bounty, for giving him an Opportunity yesterday of falling on that Discourse, which had made him the happiest Man in the World': He said, 'If she had not by her agreeable Conversation encourag'd him, and drawn him from one Word to another, he should never have had the Confidence to have told _Atlante_, how much he ador'd her.' 'I am very glad, (replyed _Charlot_) that I was the Occasion of the Beginning of an Amour, which was displeasing to neither one nor the other; for I a.s.sure you for your Comfort, my Sister nothing but thinks on you: We lie together, and you have taught her already to sigh so, that I could not sleep for her.' At this his Face was cover'd over with a rising Joy, which his Heart could not contain: And after some Discourse, in which this innocent Girl discovered more than _Atlante_ wish'd she should, he besought her to become his Advocate; and since she had no Brother, to give him leave to a.s.sume that Honour, and call her Sister. Thus, by degrees, he flatter'd her into a Consent of carrying a Letter from him to _Atlante_; which she, who believ'd all as innocent as her self, and being not forbid to do so, immediately consented to; when he took his Pen and Ink, that stood in the Window, with Paper, and wrote _Atlante_ this following Letter:

_RINALDO_ to _ATLANTE_.

_If my Fate be so severe, as to deny me the Happiness of sighing out my Pain and Pa.s.sion daily at your Feet, if there be any Faith in the Hope you were pleased to give me (as 'twere a Sin to doubt) Oh charming +Atlante+! suffer me not to languish, both without beholding you, and without the Blessing of now and then a Billet, in answer to those that shall daily a.s.sure you of my eternal Faith and Vows; 'tis all I ask, till Fortune, and our Affairs, shall allow me the unspeakable Satisfaction of claiming you: yet if your Charity can sometimes afford me a sight of you, either from your Balcony in the Evening, or at a Church in the Morning, it would save me from that Despair and Torment, which must possess a Heart so una.s.sur'd, as that of_

Your Eternal Adorer, _Rin. Bellyaurd_.

He having writ and seal'd this, toss'd it into the Balcony to _Charlot_, having first look'd about to see if none perceiv'd them. She put it in her Bosom, and ran in to her Sister, whom by chance she found alone; _Vernole_ having taken _De Pais_ into the Garden, to discourse him concerning the sending _Charlot_ to the Monastery, which Work he desir'd to see perform'd, before he declar'd his Intentions to _Atlante_: for among all his other good Qualities, he was very avaricious; and as fair as _Atlante_ was, he thought she would be much fairer with the Addition of _Charlot's_ Portion. This Affair of his with Monsieur _De Pais_, gave _Charlot_ an opportunity of delivering her Letter to her Sister; who no sooner drew it from her Bosom, but _Atlante's_ Face was covered over with Blushes: For she imagin'd from whence it came, and had a secret Joy in that Imagination, tho' she thought she must put on the Severity and Niceness of a Virgin, who would not be thought to have surrendered her Heart with so small an a.s.sault, and the first too. So she demanded from whence _Charlot_ had that Letter? Who replyed with Joy, 'From the fine young Gentleman, our Neighbour.' At which _Atlante_ a.s.sum'd all the Gravity she could, to chide her Sister; who replied, 'Well, Sister, had you this day seen him, you would not have been angry to have receiv'd a Letter from him; he look'd so handsome, and was so richly dress'd, ten times finer than he was yesterday; and I promis'd him you should read it: therefore, pray let me keep my Word with him; and not only so, but carry him an Answer.' 'Well (said _Atlante_) to save your Credit with Monsieur _Rinaldo_, I will read it': Which she did, and finish'd with a Sigh. While she was reading, _Charlot_ ran into the Garden, to see if they were not likely to be surpriz'd; and finding the Count and her Father set in an Arbour, in deep Discourse, she brought Pen, Ink, and Paper to her Sister, and told her, she might write without the Fear of being disturbed: and urged her so long to what was enough her Inclination, that she at last obtained this Answer:

_ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.

_+Charlot+, your little importunate Advocate, has at last subdued me to a Consent of returning you This. She has put me on an Affair with which I am wholly unacquainted; and you ought to take this very kindly from me, since it is the very first time I ever writ to one of your s.e.x, tho' perhaps I might with less Danger have done it to any other Man. I tremble while I write, since I dread a Correspondence of this Nature, which may insensibly draw us into an Inconvenience, and engage me beyond the Limits of that Nicety I ought to preserve: For this Way we venture to say a thousand little kind Things, which in Conversation we dare not do: for now none can see us blush. I am sensible I shall this Way put my self too soon into your Power; and tho' you have abundance of Merit, I ought to be asham'd of confessing, I am but too sensible of it:--But hold--I shall discover for your Repose (which I would preserve) too much of the Heart of_

Atlante.

She gave this Letter to _Charlot_; who immediately ran into the Balcony with it, where she still found _Rinaldo_ in a melancholy Posture, leaning his Head on his Hand: She shewed him the Letter, but was afraid to toss it to him, for fear it might fall to the Ground; so he ran and fetched a long Cane, which he cleft at one End, and held it while she put the Letter into the Cleft, and staid not to hear what he said to it.