Volume V Part 17 (2/2)

But never was Man so transported with Joy, as he was at the reading of this Letter; it gives him new Wounds; for to the Generous, nothing obliges Love so much as Love: tho' it is now too much the Nature of that inconstant s.e.x, to cease to love as soon as they are sure of the Conquest. But it was far different with our Cavalier; he was the more inflamed, by imagining he had made some Impressions on the Heart of _Atlante_, and kindled some Sparks there, that in time might increase to something more; so that he now resolves to die hers: and considering all the Obstacles that may possibly hinder his Happiness, he found none but his Father's Obstinacy, perhaps occasioned by the Meanness of _Atlante's_ Fortune. To this he urged again, that he was his only Son, and a Son whom he loved equal to his own Life; and that certainly, as soon as he should behold him dying for _Atlante_, which if he were forc'd to quit her he must be, he then believed the Tenderness of so fond a Parent would break forth into Pity, and plead within for his Consent. These were the Thoughts that flatter'd this young Lover all the Day; and whether he were riding the Great Horse, or at his Study of Philosophy, or Mathematicks, Singing, Dancing, or whatsoever other Exercise his Tutors ordered, his Thoughts were continually on _Atlante_.

And now he profited no more, whatever he seem'd to do: every Day he fail'd not to write to her by the Hand of the kind _Charlot_; who, young as she was, had conceiv'd a great Friends.h.i.+p for _Rinaldo_, and fail'd not to fetch her Letters, and bring him Answers, such as he wish'd to receive. But all this did not satisfy our impatient Lover; Absence kill'd, and he was no longer able to support himself, without a sight of this adorable Maid; he therefore implores, she will give him that Satisfaction: And she at last grants it, with a better Will than he imagin'd. The next Day was the appointed Time, when she would, under Pretence of going to Church, give him an a.s.signation: And because all publick Places were dangerous, and might make a great Noise, and they had no private Place to trust to, _Rinaldo_, under Pretence of going up the River in his Pleasure-Boat, which he often did, sent to have it made ready by the next Day at Ten of the Clock. This was accordingly done, and he gave _Atlante_ Notice of his Design of going an Hour or two on the River in his Boat, which lay near to such a Place, not far from the Church. She and _Charlot_ came thither: and because they durst not come out without a Footman or two, they taking one, sent him with a _How-do-ye_ to some young Ladies, and told him, he should find them at Church: So getting rid of their Spy, they hastened to the River-side, and found a Boat and _Rinaldo_, waiting to carry them on board his little Vessel, which was richly adorn'd, and a very handsome Collation ready for them, of cold Meats, Sallads and Sweetmeats.

As soon as they were come into the Pleasure-Boat, unseen of any, he kneel'd at the Feet of _Atlante_, and there utter'd so many pa.s.sionate and tender Things to her, with a Voice so trembling and soft, with Eyes so languis.h.i.+ng, and a Fervency and a Fire so sincere, that her young Heart, wholly uncapable of Artifice, could no longer resist such Language, and such Looks of Love; she grows tender, and he perceives it in her fine Eyes, who could not dissemble; he reads her Heart in her Looks, and found it yielding apace; and therefore a.s.saults it anew, with fresh Forces of Sighs and Tears: He implores she would a.s.sure him of her Heart, which she could no other way do, than by yielding to marry him: He would carry her to the next Village, there consummate that Happiness, without which he was able to live no longer; for he had a thousand Fears, that some other Lover was, or would suddenly be provided for her; and therefore he would make sure of her while he had this Opportunity: and to that End, he answer'd all the Objections she could make to the contrary. But ever, when he named Marriage, she trembled, with fear of doing something that she fancy'd she ought not to do without the Consent of her Father. She was sensible of the Advantage, but had been so us'd to a strict Obedience, that she could not without Horror think of violating it; and therefore besought him, as he valued her Repose, not to urge her to that: And told him further, That if he fear'd any Rival, she would give him what other a.s.surance and Satisfaction he pleas'd, but that of Marriage; which she could not consent to, till she knew such an Alliance would not be fatal to him: for she fear'd, as pa.s.sionately as he lov'd her, when he should find she had occasion'd him the Loss of his Fortune, or his Father's Affection, he would grow to hate her. Tho' he answer'd to this all that a fond Lover could urge, yet she was resolv'd, and he forc'd to content himself with obliging her by his Prayers and Protestations, his Sighs and Tears, to a Contract, which they solemnly made each other, vowing on either Side, they would never marry any other. This being solemnly concluded, he a.s.sum'd a Look more gay and contented than before: He presented her a very rich Ring, which she durst not put on her Finger, but hid it in her Bosom. And beholding each other now as Man and Wife, she suffer'd him all the decent Freedoms he could wish to take; so that the Hours of this Voyage seem'd the most soft and charming of his Life: and doubtless they were so; every Touch of _Atlante_ transported him, every Look pierced his Soul, and he was all Raptures of Joy, when he consider'd this charming lovely Maid was his own.

_Charlot_ all this while was gazing above-deck, admiring the Motion of the little Vessel, and how easily the Wind and Tide bore her up the River. She had never been in any thing of this kind before, and was very well pleas'd and entertain'd, when _Rinaldo_ call'd her down to eat; where they enjoy'd themselves, as well as was possible: and _Charlot_ was wondring to see such a Content in their Eyes.

But now they thought it was high time for them to return; they fancy the Footman missing them at Church, would go home and alarm their Father, and the Knight of the Ill-favour'd Countenance, as _Charlot_ call'd Count _Vernole_, whose Severity put their Father on a greater Restriction of them, than naturally he would do of himself. At the Name of this Count, _Rinaldo_ chang'd Colour, fearing he might be some Rival; and ask'd _Atlante_, if this _Vernole_ was a-kin to her? She answer'd no; but was a very great Friend to her Father, and one who from their Infancy had had a particular Concern for their Breeding, and was her Master for Philosophy. 'Ah! (reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) this Man's Concern must proceed from something more than Friends.h.i.+p for her Father'; and therefore conjur'd her to tell him, whether he was not a Lover: 'A Lover! (reply'd _Atlante_) I a.s.sure you, he is a perfect Antidote against that Pa.s.sion': And tho' she suffer'd his ugly Presence now, she should loathe and hate him, should he but name Love to her.

She said, she believed she need not fear any such Persecution, since he was a Man who was not at all amorous; that he had too much of the Satire in his Humour, to harbour any Softness there: and Nature had form'd his Body to his Mind, wholly unfit for Love. And that he might set his Heart absolutely at rest, she a.s.sur'd him her Father had never yet propos'd any Marriage to her, tho' many advantageous ones were offer'd him every Day.

The Sails being turned to carry them back from whence they came; after having discoursed of a thousand Things, and all of Love, and Contrivance to carry on their mutual Design, they with Sighs parted; _Rinaldo_ staying behind in the Pleasure-Boat, and they going a-sh.o.r.e in the Wherry that attended: after which he cast many an amorous and sad Look, and perhaps was answer'd by those of _Atlante_.

It was past Church-time two or three Hours, when they arrived at home, wholly unprepar'd with an Excuse, so absolutely was _Atlante's_ Soul possest with softer Business. The first Person that they met was the Footman, who open'd the Door, and began to cry out how long he had waited in the Church, and how in vain; without giving them time to reply. _De Pais_ came towards 'em, and with a frowning Look demanded where they had been? _Atlante_, who was not accustom'd to Excuses and Untruth, was a while at a stand; when _Charlot_ with a Voice of Joy cry'd out, 'Oh Sir! we have been a-board of a fine little s.h.i.+p': At this _Atlante_ blush'd, fearing she would tell the Truth. But she proceeded on, and said, that they had not been above a Quarter of an Hour at Church, when the Lady ----, with some other Ladies and Cavaliers, were going out of the Church, and that spying them, they would needs have 'em go with 'em: My Sister, Sir, continu'd she, was very loth to go, for fear you should be angry; but my Lady ---- was so importunate with her on one side, and I on the other, because I never saw a little s.h.i.+p in my Life, that at last we prevail'd with her: therefore, good Sir, be not angry. He promised them he was not. And when they came in, they found Count _Vernole_, who had been inspiring _De Pais_ with Severity, and counselled him to chide the young Ladies, for being too long absent, under Pretence of going to their Devotion. Nor was it enough for him to set the Father on, but himself with a Gravity, where Concern and Malice were both apparent, reproached _Atlante_ with Levity; and told her, He believed she had some other Motive than the Invitation of a Lady, to go on s.h.i.+p-board; and that she had too many Lovers, not to make them doubt that this was a design'd thing; and that she had heard Love from some one, for whom it was design'd. To this she made but a short Reply, That if it was so, she had no reason to conceal it, since she had Sense enough to look after herself; and if any body had made love to her, he might be a.s.sur'd, it was some one whose Quality and Merit deserved to be heard: and with a Look of Scorn, she pa.s.sed on to another Room, and left him silently raging within with Jealousy: Which, if before she tormented him, this Declaration increas'd it to a pitch not to be conceal'd. And this Day he said so much to the Father, that he resolv'd forthwith to send _Charlot_ to a Nunnery: and accordingly the next day he bid her prepare to go. _Charlot_, who was not yet arrived to the Years of Distinction, did not much regret it; and having no Trouble but leaving her Sister, she prepared to go to a Nunnery, not many Streets from that where she dwelt. The Lady Abbess was her Father's Kinswoman, and had treated her very well, as often as she came to visit her: so that with Satisfaction enough, she was condemned to a Monastick Life, and was now going for her Probation-Year. _Atlante_ was troubled at her Departure, because she had no body to bring and to carry Letters between _Rinaldo_ and she: however, she took her leave of her, and promis'd to come and see her as often as she should be permitted to go abroad; for she fear'd now some Constraint extraordinary would be put upon her: and so it happened.

_Atlante's_ Chamber was that to which the Balcony belong'd; and tho' she durst not appear there in the Daytime, she could in the Night, and that way give her Lover as many Hours of Conversation as she pleased, without being perceiv'd: But how to give _Rinaldo_ notice of this, she could not tell; who not knowing _Charlot_ was gone to a Monastery, waited many days at his Window to see her: at last, they neither of them knowing who to trust with any Message, one day, when he was, as usual upon his watch, he saw _Atlante_ step into the Balcony, who having a Letter, in which she had put a piece of Lead, she tost it into his Window, whose Cas.e.m.e.nt was open, and run in again unperceived by any but himself. The Paper contained only this:

_My Chamber is that which looks into the Balcony; from whence, tho'

I cannot converse with you in the Day, I can at Night, when I am retired to go to bed: therefore be at your Window. +Farewel+._

There needed no more to make him a diligent Watcher: and accordingly she was no sooner retired to her Chamber, but she would come into the Balcony, where she fail'd not to see him attending at his Window. This happy Contrivance was thus carry'd on for many Nights, where they entertain'd one another with all the Endearment that two Hearts could dictate, who were perfectly united and a.s.sur'd of each other; and this pleasing Conversation would often last till Day appear'd, and forced them to part.

But old _Bellyaurd_ perceiving his Son frequent that Chamber more than usual, fancy'd something extraordinary must be the Cause of it; and one night asking for his Son, his Valet told him, he was gone into the great Chamber, so this was called: _Bellyaurd_ asked the Valet what he did there; he told him he could not tell; for often he had lighted him thither, and that his Master would take the Candle from him at the Chamber-Door, and suffer him to go no farther. Tho' the old Gentleman could not imagine what Affairs he could have alone every Night in that Chamber, he had a Curiosity to see: and one unlucky Night, putting off his Shoes, he came to the Door of the Chamber, which was open; he enter'd softly, and saw the Candle set in the Chimney, and his Son at a great open Bay-Window: he stopt awhile to wait when he would turn, but finding him unmoveable, he advanced something farther, and at last heard the soft Dialogue of Love between him and _Atlante_, whom he knew to be she, by his often calling her by her Name in their Discourse. He heard enough to confirm him how Matters went; and unseen as he came, he returned, full of Indignation, and thought how to prevent so great an Evil, as this Pa.s.sion of his Son might produce: at first he thought to round him severely in the Ear about it, and upbraid him for doing the only thing he had thought fit to forbid him; but then he thought that would but terrify him for awhile, and he would return again, where he had so great an Inclination, if he were near her; he therefore resolves to send him to _Paris_, that by Absence he might forget the young Beauty that had charm'd his Youth. Therefore, without letting _Rinaldo_ know the Reason, and without taking Notice that he knew any thing of his Amour, he came to him one day, and told him, all the Masters he had for the improving him in n.o.ble Sciences were very dull, or very remiss: and that he resolved he should go for a Year or two to the Academy at _Paris_. To this the Son made a thousand Evasions; but the Father was positive, and not to be persuaded by all his Reasons: And finding he should absolutely displease him if he refus'd to go, and not daring to tell him the dear Cause of his Desire to remain at _Orleans_, he therefore, with a breaking Heart, consents to go, nay, resolves it, tho'

it should be his Death. But alas! he considers that this Parting will not only prove the greatest Torment upon Earth to him, but that _Atlante_ will share in his Misfortunes also: This Thought gives him a double Torment, and yet he finds no Way to evade it.

The Night that finished this fatal Day, he goes again to his wonted Station, the Window; where he had not sighed very long, but he saw _Atlante_ enter the Balcony: He was not able a great while to speak to her, or to utter one Word. The Night was light enough to see him at the wonted Place; and she admires at his Silence, and demands the Reason in such obliging Terms as adds to his Grief; and he, with a deep Sigh, reply'd, 'Urge me not, my fair _Atlante_, to speak, lest by obeying you I give you more cause of Grief than my Silence is capable of doing': and then sighing again, he held his peace, and gave her leave to ask the Cause of these last Words. But when he made no Reply but by sighing, she imagin'd it much worse than indeed it was; and with a trembling and fainting Voice, she cried, 'Oh! _Rinaldo_, give me leave to divine that cruel News you are so unwilling to tell me: It is so,' added she, 'you are destin'd to some more fortunate Maid than _Atlante_.' At this Tears stopped her Speech, and she could utter no more. 'No, my dearest Charmer (reply'd _Rinaldo_, elevating his Voice) if that were all, you should see with what Fort.i.tude I would die, rather than obey any such Commands.

I am vow'd yours to the last Moment of my Life; and will be yours in spite of all the Opposition in the World: that Cruelty I could evade, but cannot this that threatens me.' 'Ah! (cried _Atlante_) let Fate do her worst, so she still continue _Rinaldo_ mine, and keep that Faith he hath sworn to me entire: What can she do beside, that can afflict me?'

'She can separate me (cried he) for some time from _Atlante_.' 'Oh!

(reply'd she) all Misfortunes fall so below that which I first imagin'd, that methinks I do not resent this, as I should otherwise have done: but I know, when I have a little more consider'd it, I shall even die with the Grief of it; Absence being so great an Enemy to Love, and making us soon forget the Object belov'd: This, tho' I never experienc'd, I have heard, and fear it may be my Fate.' He then convinc'd her Fears with a thousand new Vows, and a thousand Imprecations of Constancy. She then asked him, 'If their Loves were discover'd, that he was with such haste to depart?' He told her, 'Nothing of that was the Cause; and he could almost wish it were discover'd, since he could resolutely then refuse to go: but it was only to cultivate his Mind more effectually than he could do here; 'twas the Care of his Father to accomplish him the more; and therefore he could not contradict it. But (said he) I am not sent where Seas shall part us, nor vast Distances of Earth, but to _Paris_, from whence he might come in two Days to see her again; and that he would expect from that Balcony, that had given him so many happy Moments, many more when he should come to see her.' He besought her to send him away with all the Satisfaction she could, which she could no otherwise do, than by giving him new a.s.surances that she would never give away that Right he had in her to any other Lover: She vows this with innumerable Tears; and is almost angry with him for questioning her Faith. He tells her he has but one Night more to stay, and his Grief would be unspeakable, if he should not be able to take a better leave of her, than at a Window; and that, if she would give him leave, he would by a Rope or two, tied together, so as it may serve for Steps, ascend her Balcony; he not having time to provide a Ladder of Ropes. She tells him she has so great a Confidence in his Virtue and Love, that she will refuse him nothing, tho' it would be a very bold Venture for a Maid, to trust her self with a pa.s.sionate young Man, in silence of Night: and tho' she did not extort a Vow from him to secure her, she expected he would have a care of her Honour. He swore to her, his Love was too religious for so base an Attempt. There needed not many Vows to confirm her Faith; and it was agreed on between them, that he should come the next Night into her Chamber.

It happen'd that Night, as it often did, that Count _Vernole_ lay with Monsieur _De Pais_, which was in a Ground-Room, just under that of _Atlante's_. As soon as she knew all were in bed, she gave the word to _Rinaldo_, who was attending with the Impatience of a pa.s.sionate Lover below, under the Window; and who no sooner heard the Balcony open, but he ascended with some difficulty, and enter'd the Chamber, where he found _Atlante_ trembling with Joy and Fear: He throws himself at her Feet, as unable to speak as she; who nothing but blushed and bent down her Eyes, hardly daring to glance them towards the dear Object of her Desires, the Lord of all her Vows: She was asham'd to see a Man in her Chamber, where yet none had ever been alone, and by Night too. He saw her Fear, and felt her trembling; and after a thousand Sighs of Love had made way for Speech, he besought her to fear nothing from him, for his Flame was too sacred, and his Pa.s.sion too holy to offer any thing but what Honour with Love might afford him. At last he brought her to some Courage, and the Roses of her fair Cheeks a.s.sum'd their wonted Colour, not blus.h.i.+ng too red, nor languis.h.i.+ng too pale. But when the Conversation began between them, it was the softest in the world: They said all that parting Lovers could say; all that Wit and Tenderness could express: They exchanged their Vows anew; and to confirm his, he tied a Bracelet of Diamonds about her Arm, and she returned him one of her Hair, which he had long begged, and she had on purpose made, which clasped together with Diamonds; this she put about his Arm, and he swore to carry it to his Grave. The Night was far spent in tender Vows, soft Sighs and Tears on both sides, and it was high time to part: but, as if Death had been to have arrived to them in that Minute, they both linger'd away the time, like Lovers who had forgot themselves; and the Day was near approaching when he bid farewel, which he repeated very often: for still he was interrupted by some commanding Softness from _Atlante_, and then lost all his Power of going; till she, more courageous and careful of his Interest and her own Fame, forc'd him from her: and it was happy she did, for he was no sooner got over the Balcony, and she had flung him down his Rope, and shut the Door, but _Vernole_, whom Love and Contrivance kept waking, fancy'd several times he heard a Noise in _Atlante's_ Chamber. And whether in pa.s.sing over the Balcony, _Rinaldo_ made any Noise or not, or whether it were still his jealous Fancy, he came up in his Night-Gown, with a Pistol in his Hand.

_Atlante_ was not so much lost in Grief, tho' she were all in Tears, but she heard a Man come up, and imagin'd it had been her Father, she not knowing of Count _Vernole's_ lying in the House that Night; if she had, she possibly had taken more care to have been silent; but whoever it was, she could not get to bed soon enough, and therefore turn'd her self to her Dressing-Table, where a Candle stood, and where lay a Book open of the Story of _Ariadne_ and _Theseus_. The Count turning the Latch, enter'd halting into her Chamber in his Night-Gown clapped close about him, which betray'd an ill-favour'd Shape, his Night-Cap on, without a Perriwig, which discover'd all his lean wither'd Jaws, his pale Face, and his Eyes staring: and made altogether so dreadful a Figure, that _Atlante_, who no more dreamt of him than of a Devil, had possibly have rather seen the last. She gave a great Shriek, which frighted _Vernole_; so both stood for a while staring on each other, till both were recollected: He told her the Care of her Honour had brought him thither; and then rolling his small Eyes round the Chamber, to see if he could discover any body, he proceeded, and cry'd, 'Madam, if I had no other Motive than your being up at this time of Night, or rather of Day, I could easily guess how you have been entertain'd.' 'What Insolence is this (said she, all in a rage) when to cover your Boldness of approaching my Chamber at this Hour, you would question how I have been entertain'd! Either explain your self, or quit my Chamber; for I do not use to see such terrible Objects here.' 'Possibly those you do see (said the Count) are indeed more agreeable, but I am afraid have not that Regard to your Honour as I have': And at that word he stepped to the Balcony, open'd it, and look'd out; but seeing no body, he shut it to again. This enraged _Atlante_ beyond all Patience; and s.n.a.t.c.hing the Pistol out of his Hand, she told him, He deserved to have it aimed at his Head, for having the Impudence to question her Honour, or her Conduct; and commanded him to avoid her Chamber as he lov'd his Life, which she believ'd he was fonder of than of her Honour. She speaking this in a Tone wholly transported with Rage, and at the same time holding the Pistol towards him, made him tremble with Fear; and he now found, whether she were guilty or not, it was his turn to beg Pardon: For you must know, however it came to pa.s.s that his Jealousy made him come up in that fierce Posture, at other times _Vernole_ was the most tame and pa.s.sive Man in the World, and one who was afraid of his own Shadow in the Night: He had a natural Aversion for Danger, and thought it below a Man of Wit, or common Sense, to be guilty of that brutal thing, called Courage or Fighting; His Philosophy told him, _It was safe sleeping in a whole Skin_; and possibly he apprehended as much Danger from this _Virago_, as ever he did from his own s.e.x. He therefore fell on his Knees, and besought her to hold her fair Hand, and not to suffer that, which was the greatest Mark of his Respect, to be the Cause of her Hate or Indignation. The pitiful Faces he made, and the Signs of Mortal Fear in him, had almost made her laugh, at least it allay'd her Anger; and she bid him rise and play the fool hereafter somewhere else, and not in her Presence; yet for once she would deign to give him this Satisfaction, that she was got into a Book, which had many moving Stories very well writ; and that she found her self so well entertain'd, she had forgot how the Night pa.s.sed. He most humbly thanked her for this Satisfaction, and retired, perhaps not so well satisfied as he pretended.

After this, he appear'd more submissive and respectful towards _Atlante_; and she carry'd herself more reserv'd and haughty towards him; which was one Reason, he would not yet discover his Pa.s.sion.

Thus the Time run on at _Orleans_, while _Rinaldo_ found himself daily languis.h.i.+ng at _Paris_. He was indeed in the best Academy in the City, amongst a Number of brave and n.o.ble Youths, where all things that could accomplish them, were to be learn'd by those that had any Genius; but _Rinaldo_ had other Thoughts, and other Business: his Time was wholly past in the most solitary Parts of the Garden, by the melancholy Fountains, and in the most gloomy Shades, where he could with most Liberty breathe out his Pa.s.sion and his Griefs. He was past the Tutorage of a Boy; and his Masters could not upbraid him, but found he had some secret Cause of Grief, which made him not mind those Exercises, which were the Delight of the rest: so that nothing being able to divert his Melancholy, which daily increased upon him, he fear'd it would bring him into a Fever, if he did not give himself the Satisfaction of seeing _Atlante_. He had no sooner thought of this, but he was impatient to put it in execution; he resolved to go (having very good Horses) without acquainting any of his Servants with it. He got a very handsom and light Ladder of Ropes made, which he carry'd under his Coat, and away he rid for _Orleans_, stay'd at a little Village, till the Darkness of the Night might favour his Design: And then walking about _Atlante's_ Lodgings, till he saw a Light in her Chamber, and then making that Noise on his Sword, as was agreed between them, he was heard by his adorable _Atlante_, and suffer'd to mount her Chamber, where he would stay till almost break of Day, and then return to the Village, and take Horse, and away for _Paris_ again. This, once in a Month, was his Exercise, without which he could not live; so that his whole Year was past in riding between _Orleans_ and _Paris_, between Excess of Grief, and Excess of Joy by turns.

It was now that _Atlante_, arrived to her fifteenth Year, shone out with a l.u.s.tre of Beauty greater than ever; and in this Year, in the Absence of _Rinaldo_, had carry'd herself with that Severity of Life, without the youthful Desire of going abroad, or desiring any Diversion, but what she found in her own retired Thoughts, that _Vernole_, wholly unable longer to conceal his Pa.s.sion, resolv'd to make a Publication of it, first to the Father, and then to the lovely Daughter, of whom he had some Hope, because she had carry'd her self very well towards him for this Year past; which she would never have done, if she had imagin'd he would ever have been her Lover: She had seen no Signs of any such Misfortune towards her in these many Years he had conversed with her, and she had no Cause to fear him. When one Day her Father taking her into the Garden, told her what Honour and Happiness was in store for her; and that now the Glory of his fall'n Family would rise again, since she had a Lover of an ill.u.s.trious Blood, ally'd to Monarchs; and one whose Fortune was newly encreased to a very considerable Degree, answerable to his Birth. She changed Colour at this Discourse, imagining but too well who this ill.u.s.trious Lover was; when _De Pais_ proceeded and told her, 'Indeed his Person was not the most agreeable that ever was seen: but he marry'd her to Glory and Fortune, not the Man: And a Woman (says he) ought to look no further.'

She needed not any more to inform her who this intended Husband was; and therefore, bursting forth into Tears, she throws herself at his Feet, imploring him not to use the Authority of a Father, to force her to a thing so contrary to her Inclination: a.s.suring him, she could not consent to any such thing; and that she would rather die than yield. She urged many Arguments for this her Disobedience; but none would pa.s.s for current with the old Gentleman, whose Pride had flatter'd him with Hopes of so considerable a Son-in-law: He was very much surpriz'd at _Atlante's_ refusing what he believ'd she would receive with Joy; and finding that no Arguments on his Side could draw hers to an obedient Consent, he grew to such a Rage, as very rarely possest him: vowing, if she did not conform her Will to his, he would abandon her to all the Cruelty of Contempt and Poverty: so that at last she was forced to return him this Answer, 'That she would strive all she could with her Heart; but she verily believed she should never bring it to consent to a Marriage with Monsieur the Count.' The Father continued threatning her, and gave her some Days to consider of it: So leaving her in Tears, he returned to his Chamber, to consider what Answer he should give Count _Vernole_, who he knew would be impatient to learn what Success he had, and what himself was to hope. _De Pais_, after some Consideration, resolved to tell him, she receiv'd the Offer very well, but that he must expect a little Maiden-Nicety in the Case: and accordingly did tell him so; and he was not at all doubtful of his good Fortune.

But _Atlante_, who resolved to die a thousand Deaths rather than break her solemn Vows to _Rinaldo_, or to marry the Count, cast about how she should avoid it with the least Hazard of her Father's Rage. She found _Rinaldo_ the better and more advantageous Match of the two, could they but get h

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