BILLET.

LOve affords me less quiet than ever, Madam, and I heartily wish that in granting me the one, you were pleased to afford me the other also. I thought that Lovers were not made to suffer Eternally, or at least, that something was to be born of them, yet I find quite the contrary in adoring you; you are still the same, as well as your Charms; and if after you have let me know I was not wholly indiffe­rent to you, you still treat me as an Enemy, I shall doubtless de­stroy my self.

There needed not so much to [Page 9]render our Knight a Philosopher, and to lead him into serious. Re­flections; but he believ'd it a point of Prudence, and a con­cern to his quiet, first to know those Ladies who had nam'd him, and who probably had lost the Billet. He run to the most fre­quented Avenue, and his surprize was somewhat great, to see de­part from thence that Person whom he sought in all places, accompanied with another Lady; he presently imagin'd that it was they who had nam'd him, and burning with a vehement desire to speak to them, he was draw­ing near with that Design, when they put on their Masks, and got into a Neighbouring Walk. He therefore was contented with simply observing them; and being joyn'd by a Friend, he thought he might without any more ado go and rest himself on [Page 10]a Bench, with him, of which the Ladies had already made Choice. There were others also sitting there, and every body being very particular, his Curiosity inspired him to go and give a Servant Orders who waited for him at the Garden Gate, to be in readiness to follow that Coach which he should shew him, and to give him a faithful account of it.

He was scarce got out, when a little Foot-boy, having enquired of his Chair-men, whether that was Monsieur of St. Hubert, did hastily deliver him a Letter, of which it had been said, That He himself should bring back the Answer. He presently imagin'd it to be one of those obscene Billets with which Debauch'd Women are wont to Regale Persons by little express Messages; and ha­ving cast it on the Ground, he was making an end to order his [Page 11]Man what he had to do, when the unknown Lady came, got into her Coach, and steer'd her Course towards the Red-Bridge.

The Knight having made a sign to his Man, he ran as fast as he could after it, so that the hopes to learn before Night, where dwelt that Beautiful Person; ha­ving given him time to reflect on what he had lately done, he sought again after his Billet, vex'd that he had not read it; and by good fortune having found it again in the same place where he had thrown it, he pass'd his time in the perusal of it, expecting his Spies return.

Judging by what it contain'd, that it was an Answer to that which he had found in the La­byrinth, he was in so great an amazement that he had much to do to get out of it. He was in­formed that the Lady lov'd pas­sionately [Page 12]the Gentleman for whom it was design'd, and at the same time fancying that it was his fair unknown Creature, who appa­rently was pierc'd with a violent Love for some other, he con­ceiv'd thereat an unexpressible trouble; The Mistake was too evident to draw any Consequences from thence to his advantage; he did not know her, he had never spoken to her, far from having any Intreague with her, and the Errour was but too visible to be mistaken in it.

Mean time he was bemoaning his Destiny, and in his Complaint he thought on his Adventure with so much application, that three Officers came up to him which he did not perceive. You pon­der a little too much in Publick, our dear Kinsman, said one of the three to him, who was effectually of the same Family; and if you [Page 13]were in humour to come to —to dissipate, at the favour of a little Debauch, that Me­lancholy which overcomes you, we should all be oblig'd to you for it. 'Lass! poor Man! said another, doubtless some Angel has appear'd to him in the Garden, which has ravish'd him into an Extasie; and, if I mistake not, added the third, he has met there with Rue and Parslee. Cou­rage Knight, said they all three to him at once, he is now in his Noviciate of Love, he is now a right Knight, a Knight in all the forms, and without Circumspe­ction, farewel to all Pleasures, and to all the Philles's. These Com­pliments did somewhat amaze him, being partly got out of it, he disguis'd as well as he could the troubles of his Mind. You are too gay by half, an­swer'd he, smiling, and if you [Page 14]had businesses at Law, you would not so frequently think of running over all the best Treaters of Paris; go your ways you idle Fellows, continu'd he, one small grain of folly would not do amiss, to ren­der you a little wiser, and more moderate; you are Horaces, and meer Slaves to your passions! upon this, they endeavour'd to take him along with them, and all his resistance had been in vain, if he had not thought on a come off which succeeded to his mind.

These troublesome Men being gone at last, he plung'd himself more deeply than ever in the ex­amination of the two Billets; and having easily rectify'd them by comparing, he absolutely conclu­ded that there was some recipro­cal Love, and that he should do very ill to dive any further in that Mistery. But who knows not, that it is the weakness of [Page 15]the Bravest Souls, to cleave to all that appears the most difficult to perform; and the more trouble there is to overcome, the more Glorious seems to them the At­chievement. This Person made it a point of Honour to push this Adventure to the end, and to give himself up to the government of his good or ill Star; he once more read the last Billet, which was writ in the following terms.

BILLET.

I Had foreseen that you would make me some Reproaches, and I might have prepar'd beforehand this Answer for you. I know your ways, and if I mistake not, you pretend to act Souldier-like every where; but learn, that there is a vast difference betwixt to Love, and to Fight, and that a Lover can never Triumph, but in his [Page 16]Defeat. This is a Lesson of which you may profit, if it is not your own fault. Farewell.

Ha! most charming unknown Person, cry'd he to himself at this conclusion, what Dispositions should I find in my self to obey you? and with what joy should I become your Scholar? But you already love, and I can­not complain that love has im­printed such extraordinary charms. While he was thus Philosophising on that Constellation, his Man, quite out of breath, came to give him an account at large of his Commission? He told him, that he knew positively where that Person dwelt whom he had fol­low'd, That it was a Royal Pa­lace, abounding in Servants, and that he would conduct him to't when he pleas'd.

This Relation ended, he would [Page 17]not defer going thither; his Chair­man follow'd his Servant, and great was his surprize to see him­self carry'd to the Palace of Mars, whose Attendants 'tis likely his Man had taken for Livery-men: He was ready to correct him for his gross mistake; and if the small stay which he had made in Paris, having been but one week in that City, had not excused him, he had at that very moment made tryal of the effect of his ill humour; yet he resolved to see there that Person which caus'd him so much trouble.

Nor had he fail'd so to do, if that the same Curiosity which had drawn her to behold that stately Structure, had not invited her to go elsewhere to do the like also. He was forced to rest satisfy'd as well as he could; and Monsieur of Louis being but just alighted there from Meudon, to visit ac­cording [Page 18]to his custom that House, all whose Inhabitants consider him as their Patron; he left off his pursuit, to mention his business to him, and the opportunity be­ing so favourable, he receiv'd from him such an answer as he could wish for, with Orders to go to Versailles in few days.

This beginning of Love having thus given place to his Ambition, he was punctual to observe his Directions, and he receiv'd his brief with such ease as is rare to be found with such Great Mini­sters of State: who to support himself against that envy which is inseparable from his place, seeks but after little other protection, than that which he finds in his Masters good will and favour. He gain'd by so generous a proceed­ing, St. Hubert's whole esteem, who had no other regret to see him in so great an elevation, but [Page 19]because it left him without the power to express his acknow­ledgments to him for the same.

Of truth he is naturally ac­knowledging, and that which fre­quently causes Men to pass from Love, to indifferency, does on the contrary, more strongly kindle in him the heat of his passion. Wherefore he has never given that way any cause of Complaint, and it may be said, that he perfectly knows the Art of Love without that of seigning. That Journey which had acquir'd him a conside­rable Employ, had not however quite settled his mind, he had thought himself unhappy to go for Nancy, where his Orders required him to be, without having spoken to her whose Orders had been yet more precious to him.

He was returning in his usual dumps, and was already crossing the Wood of Beulogne, when he [Page 20]found himself stopp'd by two or three confus'd Voices, mixt with some breakings forth of Laughter, which seem'd to come from the thickest part of that Forrest, and by a Picture-Case which he per­ceiv'd to sparkle in the Mudd, he presently alighted, and having taken it up with some haste, he was extreamly surpriz'd at the opening of it, to find the Copy of that Person, whose Original he sought after in all places. He reckon'd much on that rencounter, and believing there would be no hurt in drawing near to that place whence the noise came, he commanded his people to wait for him.

He had not made many steps, but he perceiv'd the Viscount St. Hubert his Cousin, with some Ladies, which for having been overturn'd in the Dirt, thought they had a great cause of laughter, [Page 21]that their fall had not been ac­company'd with any sinister Ac­cident, and that they were quit of it, for having given as they fell some kisses to the Viscount. Mean time their Coach being broke, it had been sent back to Paris, and they expected another in that part of the Forrest. He then did soon judge that the Picture had been lost by that accident, and not believing himself oblig'd to mention it so soon, he offer'd to that fair Company his Coach, to go to Versailles, where he also resolv'd to return. The Ladies did long refuse his offer; and had not the Viscount labour'd to make them accept of it, he had been entirely refus'd.

There were four convenient places in it he convinc'd them that he could dispose of his Kinsman, and that it would be ridiculous not to improve his offers; where­upon [Page 22]they having seated them­selves, they continued their way. This diversion had been concluded on two days before with those two Ladies, who had dexterously ingag'd St. Hubert to accompany them, not but that he had very pressing business in Town, where a Mistresses nicity did oblige him to observe very exact measures. But being naturally very officious, and they very intimate with him, he had impos'd upon himself to be of that Match. They were going to give a Visit to a Mar­chioness, which was to last some days. Some days, reply'd the Knight to his Kinsman's ear, so soon as he heard it, some days at Ver­sailles: faith, Vicount, I fancy thou wilt have but an ill time of it, and if I am not mistaken, Paris would divert thee much better than Versailles. The Court has some­what of bustle in it, continu'd he [Page 23]aloud, in a foppish tone, which fre­quently makes sollitude to be pre­ferr'd to all its Charms; so many Circumstances of cautiousness and exactness are uneasie; and for my part, I never go, but when I think I have some business there.

Upon this the Ladies discours'd on the pleasures of the Court, and of the Country, not giving St. Hubert any time to answer, who was almost dead with desire to have the Knight clear his Rid­dle; and those Discourses having put him in mind of a Present which he had lately receiv'd, he put his hand to his Pocket, and having not found there what he sought after, he two or three times chang'd Countenance. It was a Bracelet of his Mistresses hair, which he had obtain'd after divers instances, the loss of which, did grieve him mortally.

He presently fancy'd that it [Page 24]might have faln out at that place where they had over-turn'd, and not being able to disguise his uneasiness, he got out of the Coach so soon as they were at their Journies end, to send People to make an exact search after it. The Knight who had taken notice of that Concern, believ'd that it was on the account of the Picture, and taking delight to leave in some trouble a Person whom he thought too happy, he took no notice of what he had taken up: he said to himself, that he might well keep for some time the Copy of so Charming an Original, whose first sight had so violently disturb'd him. Those disorders continu'd not long, the presence of the Ladies did at least impose some Constraint on them; and feigning on all hands very cun­ningly, they got to an Inn to rest themselves, cackled more than [Page 25]ever, and at last conducted the Gentlemen to the young Mar­chionesses Lodgings.

They were no less surpriz'd the one than the other in approa­ching that Lady; they Saluted her, and the Viscount seeming not to know her, was resolv'd to re­main serious, if the two others could have forborn to Laugh. In this intricacy, the Knight thought there was some Enchant­ment; and, not knowing what to think of such an unexpected Ren­counter, was in the greatest a­mazement imaginable, to find that Stranger who had caus'd him so much trouble in the Person of the Marchioness. He drew near to a Window to clear the busi­ness the more; and distrusting his own Eyes, he drew the Pi­cture out of his Pocket, where he observ'd the same Face, though the Painter had flatter'd never so little.

While they were jesting with the Viscount on the frolick his Mistress had put upon him, in causing him to make her a Visit in a place, whence she was be­liev'd far distant, he had time to recollect himself from the disorder that surprize had put him in; and contenting himself with storming against his ill Fortune, he at last appear'd less discountenanc'd than any. Mean time, he return'd a Thousand Thanks to the Compa­ny, for the advantageous Cheat had been put upon him; and all transported with joy, as he was, he lost himself in the the young Marchioness's Looks, and in the marks of so particular a favour. The Knights presence did some­what restrain her fancy on that Article, and though her Lover frequently repeated that he was not to be suspected, she judg'd it convenient not to admit the Vis­count [Page 27]to the height of Court­ship, and turning the Conversa­tion, on what had happen'd to them on the Road, she then gave clearly to understand that all had been done by her Command, that she might have time to get first to Versailles, which gave the Count occasion to say the plea­santest things in the World on innocent malice.

Yet would the loss of his Brace­let come by fits into his Mind, and the Knight, who omitted not to observe the least alteration in his Face, did secretly applaud himself on his happy meeting with the Picture. This joy set him in a very gay Humour, and having drawn near to the beauti­ful Marchioness, he said so many ingenious and gallant things to her, that the two others were disturb'd at it. He spoke to them in their turn also, and for the [Page 28]first Acquaintance, he had made a very fair Progress.

This was about the time that a Ballet was to be Danc'd at Court; the Court was to be very Magnificent, and those Rejoicings which were but the Preludes to the Carousel, of which so much has been said, having lasted some Days to divert some strange Am­bassadors, it retain'd our Troop there a whole Week also, after which they return'd to Paris. Mean time, the Viscount had had no News of his Bracelet, and the Knight had always in his Mind the advantage which he had over his Love. Yet at last his Gene­rosity prevailing over his Interest, he resolv'd to Sacrifice himself to his Cozens quiet: He struggled long before he overcame, and taking a firm Resolution to go and clear that Point with him, he would not defer it one mo­ment [Page 29]longer, for fear of relap­sing into his former weakness. He gave him an account in few words of all his whole Adven­ture, those of the Billets and of the Picture; which he presented to him. He assur'd him, that having been so happy as to ob­tain from Monsieur de Louvois, what he desir'd, he had no fur­ther thoughts but to return pre­sently, to that place where his Order ingag'd him to repair, and that he desired nothing from him but to render himself Depositary of a Complement for his Mistress, in the fear that a second sight might inspire him with new de­signs. The Viscount ravish'd with this Generosity, without Exam­ple, did hastily embrace him, and observing by his Eyes that he spoke in good earnest, they both so molified their Bosoms, that they had much to do to avoid [Page 30]shedding of Tears. They gave to each other a Thousand assurances of Friendship; and if the Viscount had so far been Master of his Mistress's Heart, as to dispose of it in favour of another, he had endeavour'd to have yielded it to him. He afterwards took the Two Billets, the one of his, the other of his Mistress's Hand, the Porter having doubtless mistaken, through the conformity of Names, and the Rencounter, seeing the other had pass'd but a moment before by the same place, when he had press'd him to be of their little Debauch: As to the Picture, he confess'd 'twas none of his, but it extreamly resembling his Mistress, he so prest the Knight to go a long with him to clear the business with her, that at last he resolved to do it.

They found her in a very neat Dress, though negligent; and it [Page 31]was easie to be observ'd, that if dressing became her, she also did very much set off her Dress by her own Lustre, by her Air, and by her Shape. She look'd on the Picture with amazement, and made answer when they would have made it pass for hers, that it never had been so; that fur­thermore she knew her self so well, that she would never have resign'd it into the hands of any Person capable of so great a neglect. Those last Words were Reproaches to the Viscount, who could not forget the loss he had made; he was sensibly mov'd at it; and if his Billet had not given him occasion to convince her of a carelessness, of which he himself was but too guilty, he had not deferr'd his own punish­ment, he resolv'd however not to mention any thing of it to her; and the Knight being fallen into [Page 32]a Conversation, in order to ex­plain some things of the Opera, the Labirinth, and the Hospital, he then complain'd of the loss of the Billet, and express'd a Re­sentment, in which his Consci­ence was not in the least con­cern'd. She got out of that busi­ness, with a look that pierc'd him to the very Soul, and which gave him to understand more than any thing else, that her tenderness had not the least share in that accident. That was there­fore an absolute Command to be silent, nether did the Knight know what to say, when she declar'd that the Opera, and the Hospital of Mars, had no part in her story: That of truth she had been at the Tuilleries that Day he mention'd; and that as to the other circumstances, of having put on her Mask, and retir'd in ano­ther unfrequented Walk to rest [Page 33]her self, all that was new to her. That was express'd in such an affirmative accent, that he knew not what to imagine. He sted­fastly beheld her without speak­ing; and the more he look'd on her, the more he confirm'd him­self in his Error. Finally, he was quite undeceiv'd by assured Cir­cumstances, and what pass'd at first in his Mind as a great truth, appear'd to him at last but as a meer illusion. He knew not what to conjecture of that Face, that was so resembling that of this Marchioness, he five or six times felt his own Pulse, to know whether he was not in a Feaver; or at least, whether he was not turn'd Visionarist: And for fear of turning Wizard at Paris, he resolv'd to go out of it the next Day, with his Pi­cture, which he began to find a Thousand times more real [Page 34]than the Person which it repre­sented.

He instantly took his leave of those Two Lovers; and having gone towards Night to his Kins­man to bid him farewel, he found him in the resolution to accom­pany him in his Journey. The design which had been fram'd on Luxembourg, had oblig'd eve­ry Officer to repair to his Post against the 15th. of September. That oblig'd the Viscount to quit his Mistress, to join his Regi­ment that was at Metz; he put back their Journey for Three Days, to bestow them wholly on his Mistress; after which, they both took Post in the great Road to Strasburg.

Every one is sufficiently in­form'd of the first Bombarding of that Town; Monsieur the Marshal of Crequi, having been oblig'd, because of the cold Wea­ther, [Page 35]to put off that Enterprise till the next Spring; mean time, possessing all the Posts which cut off all Communications, and form'd the Blockado, the Troops retir'd into their Winter Quar­ters, and the Viscount finding himself at liberty to return to his Amours, or rather to conclude his Marriage with the Marchio­ness, who had frequently writ to him; he receiv'd one the Night before his setting forth, which overcame him with grief. We have already said, that she was very nice, and that quali­ty, which she deriv'd more from a strong Passion, than any o­ther Principle, had made her to draw consequences which were prejudiciable to her Lover. This is what she express'd of them.

BILLET.

I Was already convinc'd of the levity of Men in General; but I believ'd at least that it was not without exception, and that I might trust your fidelity. Mean time you have deceiv'd me, and the only comfort that I have left, is, that I never was but half so. My weakness did not proceed without Reflections, and I no longer doubt, after your treachery, that distrust is the sole preservation of our Sex. Adieu.

Thrice did he read over the same Words, to find out a sense contrary to the true one; he as oft examin'd himself without ap­prehending whence so sudden an effect should proceed; and some­times believing himself guilty, then anon again innocent, he fell [Page 37]into a dumps, out of which he had much ado to retrieve him­self. All this while his Love re­proach'd him nothing, he found nothing in his past conduct that Condemn'd him; but according to that Maxime, that will have the Lover to be always in the wrong, he at last concluded, that his Mistress had all the right imaginable. He was to go justify himself without delay. Scarce did he give himself time sufficient to go and embrace his Kinsman, and to declare to him the necessity of that precipitation.

This had wish'd to have return'd along with him, and nothing had prevented him, had not a Family concern, which requir'd his pre­sence, call'd him home. He in­stantly went thither, and finding himself oblig'd to pass there part of the Winter, he no longer thought of Paris but with sighs. [Page 38]He had a certain grief at it, which discovering it self sufficiently on his face, did oblige him to seek after a thousand occasions to dis­sipate it.

He frequently went to Hunt, to which the moderate Climate of his Province did much contribute: he made matches of Divertise­ments with his whole Neighbour­hood, and thus endeavour'd to recompence himself in the Coun­trey, of those pleasures which he lost there. A Protestant Gentle­man, named Chanlieu, was one of his first acquaintances; he was very agreeable, and the Charms of a Sister of St. Hubert drawing him frequently thither, he found with him wherewith to pass his time. It is true, that Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, taking delight to hear him, had consequently the greatest share in his Visits; but after all, the Knight had some [Page 39]share in them also: and having taken some of those visits on his own account, he thought himself oblig'd to return them him. He therefore went to visit Chanlisu in his Estate, and having declar'd that he design'd to remain three days with him, the first had no other thoughts but to divert him by all manner of means.

Chance did furnish him with one which he could not otherwise expect; he learnt that St. Hubert did passionately love Musick, and that he might be regal'd by the Ears, as well as by the Eyes. He writ to a friend of his in the next Town, to engage a Select number of Choice Persons, which de­lighted in Consorts, to come to his House, with all those Instru­ments they usually employ'd with their Voice. Chanlieu was a friend tr every body, and his friend nee­ded not to use much Entreaties to [Page 40]get their Consent: He gave notice of it to Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, who had been two days in that Town, and having told her that her Brother design'd to give an Opera to Monsieur of St. Hubert, she resolv'd to be of the Match, and to agreeably surprize them that way. Madmoiselle of Chanlieu who took no notice that mention had been made of Monsieur, and not of Madmoiselle St. Hubert, did really believe that it was she that had come to visit her; and on the pressing solicitations of St. Sauveur, so was that frien'd nam'd, who was a Gentleman of the Pro­testant Religion, she no longer deferr'd to go joyn them. Notice was sent to Monsieur Chanlieu, that he should have cause to be satisfied, and that his Coach would be expected. Mean time they employ'd their thoughts about what Persons they should repre­sent; [Page 41]and having all met at the Rendezvous, they were plac'd at the end of the Hall; where the form of an Alcove seem'd to re­present a kind of Theatre; at both ends of which, had been suspended two large Sconces, gar­nish'd with Tapers.

Chanlieu, which above all did wish his Mistress to partake of this Regalia, had engag'd the Knight to write to her; so that having them both at his House, he insensibly conducted them to the design'd place: after which, the sign being given, the Candles were instantly lighted, all the Instruments began a prelude, very agreeably maintain'd, and the O­pera follow'd with great applause. The Actors out-did themselves in this Occasion; but all overcame St. Hubert, when he perceiv'd there that face, who had so deeply wounded him at the Opera of [Page 42] Phaeton. His surprize was great at the first sight of so agreeable a Company; but he believ'd him­self in an Enchanted place, when he beheld there that Person, who began to pass for an Enchantress in his thoughts. He drew near to his Sister to inform himself more particularly of it, when she left the rest of her Company to come and embrace her, yet some small tincture colour'd her face more than ordinary, at the sight of the Knight, who taking no further notice for the present, shew'd his respects to her.

That friendship which he per­ceiv'd so great betwixt those two Persons, fill'd him immediately with joy and pleasure; he took his time to approach her, and the Consort having chang'd into a kind of Ball, he made her a thou­sand excuses for not having known her sooner. He told her, after a [Page 43]gallant manner, that neither his heart nor his eyes had any thing to reproach him with on that ac­count, that she distinguish'd her self too much to be deceiv'd, and that no person could behold her face, without perceiving divers admirable things. He after that did invite her to Dance, and it so falling out according to order, that he was to give her the preference in all respects; he still entertain'd her most agreeably, he ingenuously turn'd his Discourse on the stay she had made at Paris; and no longer fearing to be deceiv'd, he felt within him a joy that cannot be express'd. He thought there was something so singular in his Adventures, that he was wrapt up in admiration of them, as well as the Beauty that had produc'd them; and abandoning himself blindly to his fate, an ardent passion took possession of his mind; [Page 44]his eyes did no longer belye his heart, and running over his mi­stake, he reproach'd himself a thousand times for having set up the Marchioness in her place in his mind, and for not having ob­serv'd all that difference which he was sensible of at present. The truth is, they were extream like one another, and that a little more of youth, and softness of features, made all the difference.

Mean time abundance of things were in agitation in the bosome of St. Sauveur, he had long since observ'd that Madmoiselle of Chan­lieu was the loveliest Person in the World, but he had never had any thoughts to love her; he liv'd with her as with a friend, for whom he had a great esteem and friendship, without any fur­ther Consequences, and it was in this Company that he first found a­great alteration in his heart. It [Page 45]continualy set before his eyes that Object with all its Charms, and his mind being flatter'd at the be­ginning, he took in large draughts of a most dangerous Poison.

Though he was not altogether of so great a Quality as was Mad­moiselle of Chanlieu, yet he had sufficiency of Birth, Wit, and Means, to aspire to her Conquest; besides that, being both of one Religion, he believ'd that sufficient to overcome all Obstacles. He was naturally very undertaking, so that in hopes to easily make her pass from friendship to Love, he readily embark'd himself, and resolv'd to take just measures. On the contrary, the Knight was ti­mid, and consequently had had but little rest since his return home; he would frame to himself strange Monsters to overcome, and if he had been able, he had dive­sted himself of a passion, which [Page 46]was to cost him his whole quiet.

Alas! what a difficult thing it is to vanquish ones self when one Loves much, and how little sig­nifies a greatness of Soul against the power of a violent passion? all his struglings were useless, and Madmoiselle of St. Hubert having observ'd a great Change in his Person, she was forc'd to press him very hard, to get from him an acknowledgement of his weak­ness; No Sister, said he to her, Love shall not long be my Ma­ster, I'le be gone to morrow, and Madmoiselle of Chanlieu's Charms shall not have leisure to reason on their Victory, after their Triumph over me: Ah! thou beautiful Hu­gonot, how Catholick are thy Charms, and your Person little agreeing with what is told us of your Religion? he had proceeded in his Complaints, had not his Si­ster made a full stop there, to [Page 47]reason on his passion: She lov'd Chanlieu, and she having the same difficulties to Combate in her turn, she represented to her Bro­ther, that he too much magnify'd the Objects, and that those dif­ficulties that appear'd so great to him, were not however Uncon­querable: that she had formerly much reason'd within her self on such a like matter, and that she had found in it more of fear, than of danger.

Let a Lover say what he will, he loves still to be flatter'd, and he cannot be heal'd, without causing some sorrow to him. The Knight thought himself oblig'd to her for this Discourse, and gave her such acknowledgments of it, as he appear'd not Master of; she on her part had great dispositions to serve him, her interest was visibly engag'd in it, so that she was not to deliberate: she made [Page 48]to her Brother as ingenious a Con­fession as he had done to her, and acknowledging to him her weak­ness for Monsieur of Chanlieu, who after a long assiduousness, had lighted on the key of her heart: They agreed to act joyntly in that business, for both their ad­vantages.

St. Hubert did frequently go to Chanlieu's, and the Marquess of Chanlieu as frequently to the Knight St. Huberts: those fre­quent Visits did give some oppor­tunities to this last to express by his looks what pass'd in his heart, and his Courtship was always ac­company'd with so Eloquent a languishment, that it was not dif­ficult to observe it. He one day told Madmoiselle of Chanlieu how dear the first sight of her had cost his Curiosity, with how much earnestness he had sought after her; his Journey to Ver­sailles, [Page 49]his mistake in another Lady that so much resembled her, and the finding of the Picture. While he was relating these things, his Eyes were fix'd upon her, and learning from her delicate mouth some particulars which assisted him to unravel those Mysteries, he pull'd the Picture out of his Pocket to compare it with the Original.

She then told him, That before she left Paris she thought to make use of that opportunty to have that Picture drawn, and that having lost it going to Versailles, he whom she had sent to seek for it where it had been lost, had there found a Hair-Bracelet garnish'd with two Lockets, on which some Cyphers had been set with small Diamonds. He clear'd further that accident also, and she insisting to have the Picture return'd to her in resto­ring the Bracelet, he was forc'd [Page 50]to call in Chanlieu to be judge be­twixt them, who condemn'd his Sister, & represented to her, That she hazarded nothing in leaving in his hands a thing which mear chance had justly bestow'd on him: He also advis'd, that the Bracelet should be sent to the Vis­count, that he should have resti­tution made him of a thing of so great value.

St. Sauveur came just to be a witness to that business; he en­vy'd the Knight's happiness, and did extend himself through the means of the Copy so largely on the Original, that she was oblig'd to say, She should take it kindly if they would spare her Modesty. He was come full of great De­signs, no less than to declare his Passion to her: St. Hubert's as­siduousness had of late given him some perplexity; his love did advise him to prevent so dange­rous [Page 51]a Rival, wherefore it was with great regret that he was oblig'd to put off his design to another time.

Love leads Persons into strange Speculations, and frequently dis­covers to amorous Eyes that which would still remain conceal'd to indifferent ones. St. Sauveur had never discover'd the Knight's love, if he had not burnt in the same flame; and though his good hopes had lull'd him asleep, he having studdy'd the Lovers Po­liticks, it of a sudden fill'd him with apprehensions, so that he would no longer build on the small hopes of a Catholick Ri­vals success in such a concern. He knew that Love was of all Religions, and that that I know not what, which is produc'd by a conceal'd Sympathy, was not always to be restrain'd by an an­tipathy of Belief and of Faith: [Page 50] [...] [Page 51] [...] [Page 52]The person concern'd had more­over Qualities capable to over­come all sorts of Considerations, and he was no less to be fear'd by his intricate and subtle Wit, than by his Bravery and by his good Meen. There was nothing but his departure for the Army that caus'd him to rejoyce; for at that time the Protestant Officers having been disgusted, St. Sau­veur had quitted his Employ the last Campaign, and the Knight was oblig'd to render himself at his, within the space of six Weeks.

Wherefore he fore-knowing that ill fate, he manag'd as well as he could all his moments to the best advantage for his Love, and lost none of those in which he could in anywise promote his Loves in­terest. He discover'd to Chanlieu all that he felt for his Sister. He implor'd his assistance, and assur'd [Page 53]him, That he would be very sen­sible of all his good Offices, and they both running the same For­tune, it was no hard thing for him to make him his. They swore to one another an eternal Friendship, and being parted, the Knight re­turn'd to his Sister, and gave her many thanks. He conjur'd her to believe, that he was sensible of her kindness to the height he ought to be, and he would give her some particular marks of it all his life time; He gave her to un­derstand, That it could be but through her means he should be happy, and that Madamoiselle of Chanlieu loving most tenderly her Brother, she might easily entertain him in those favourable Dispositi­ons which he had for him.

This proceeding being no new thing to her, he had cause to be contented with the Answer which she made him, and to give him [Page 54]some more essential Proofs of it; she feign'd a small Indisposition to obtain a Visit from that Lady her dear Friend. The Knight adver­tis'd of this, took care to make her a gallant and magnificent Recep­tion; and his inclination agree­ing wonderfully with his love, it may be concluded, that nothing was omitted; and that he procur'd her all the Divertisements which the season would then afford. He appear'd very earnest to express to her his Joys, and Madamoiselle of Chanlieu, who had already per­ceiv'd his Designs without her Brother's assistance, did not appear more reserv'd than usually; She politickly believ'd, that that ought not to diminish her usual gaity, and that a Lover ought to understand himself in his Conjectures. On his part, he had much to do to pre­vent his Passion from breaking forth with too much violence, [Page 55]and he felt a redoubling of the Fitt by such new Charms that he had not perceiv'd before.

St. Sauveur who had subtily in­troduc'd himself in that Visit, was wonderfully griev'd at it; he was of late become the Argus and Spye of all their Actions, and finding but too much cause to fear and to allarm himself, he lost the best part of his gay Humour; not but that he had a particular Empire over himself to disguise what pass'd in the bottom of his Heart; but let one dissemble never so much, it is ever certain, that Tenderness will always manifest it self in spight of all our greatest caution, and the most subtle Person, when once grown jealous, cannot long con­strain himself. He was play'd up­on on the account of his ill Hu­mour, and St. Hubert mistrusting nothing of the truth, did attribute to his Temper that which pro­ceeded [Page 56]from quite another thing. Mean time he perform'd his Duties with great earnestness, and his Si­ster acting mutually with him, Madamoiselle of Chanlieu did con­tinually meet with some Diversi­on. So many things gave her to apprehend, what she ought to think of the Knight's looks; she had found a great stock of Virtue and Honesty in his Person, she knew his Merit; but through all those rare Qualities, her budding Love did affright her, and caus'd her to distrust her self. For tho' amongst Persons of Quality, Re­ligion is no obstacle to the strictest Tyes, in these latter times she found a great cause of apprehen­sion; and though Reason seem'd to advise her to be inflexible in that case, she found not strength enough in her self to warrant her love and her weakness; mean time she thought that it were prudence [Page 57]in her to avoid the danger: She hastned her return one day the sooner, and took her leave of her Friend, accompany'd with Tears.

But all those Flights were use­less; Love follow'd her steps, and her Sentiments for the Knight were by half too favourable to her mind: There arose a Conflict in her Heart, of which the Success was very uncertain, and Victory waving a long time, nothing was absolutely decided; She would willingly have cur'd her self to the hazard of her own Quiet, and to that purpose having cast her Eyes on St. Sauveur, she an hundred times resolved to receive him kindly, and as often the Knight's Idea would appear and interpose in her Designs.

In the midst of these her Irre­solutions, she had but little rest; and not knowing which party to take, she resign'd the care of her [Page 58]Heart to its own destiny. St. Sau­veur who had no time to lose, having been to see her at her own House some days after her return, had fitted himself with a Billet, to get some foreknowledge of his Fate, and Chanlieu having taken upon him to dextrously convey one from St. Hubert, he had given him these following Verses.

Madamoiselle of Chanlieu's Name did so justly fall in the end of the last Verse, and St. Hubert's Passion was so lively set forth in the whole piece, that it had been left thus imperfect for fear of vexing her; for it had not been difficult to know her self in it at first sight, besides, his Eyes and Actions had already been very powerful Interpreters: But an odd Accident suspended the reading of them for that time. St. Sauveur whom love had conducted thither early that morning, and had per­ceiv'd that when Chanlieu deli­ver'd them to his Sister, he had told her, they proceeded from the Pen of one of his most intimate Friends, thought that he might improve the opportunity: He ob­serv'd where she laid them, to peruse them when alone; He put in their place a Declaration of Love thus worded.

BILLET by way of Decla­ration.

I Had formerly the honour to be in the number of your Friends, Madam, and I should always have remain'd in that Calmness I enjoy'd, had not Love at last made me know the difference there is betwixt it and Friendship. I tremble yet at this Confession, and I find my self but too much dispos'd to behold you after a manner which cannot well be express'd.

Madamoiselle of Chanlieu having had a conveniency while they were taking a turn round the Ca­stle, to satisfie her Curiosity, she was surpris'd to find that Billet in the place of that which she ex­pected; Her mind being piercing and solid, She had thought that her Brother's interest had carry'd [Page 63]him to favour the Knight, and that without any further exami­nation, that which he had given her came from him: Having found the contrary at the open­ing of the Billet, she fell into a musing, out of which she had much to do to get; the hand of him who had writ it was hnown to her, and her Heart perhaps not agreeing with the Contents of it, she was vex'd with her Brother for having taken upon him a business which extremely displeas'd her, and she dispos'd her self to ill treat them both.

This vexing gave her a secret cause to doubt of the fortitude of her Heart, and persuaded her that it was no longer in a state of making choice; she presently bent her anger on St. Sauveur, and that proceeding which perhaps she had easily forgiven in St. Hu­bert, [Page 64]did vex her mortally; nei­ther did she fail of reproaching to her self that distinction which she made, and in representing to her self an hiddeous Picture of Love, wherewith to fortifie her self against that which insensibly attack'd her, she resolv'd to ge­nerally hate all that was Man, and to incessantly oppose the In­dulgency of her own Temper.

Mean time St. Sauveur desirous to learn originally the effects of his Billet, return'd into her A­partment, and was going to cast himself at her Feet, when a cer­tain look seem'd to pronounce the Sentence of his Condemnati­on.

He being naturally of an high Spirit, he thought it would too much offend his Honour to de­scend so low; so that turning the business into a meer Gallantry, Really Madamoiselle, said he, I did [Page 65]not think to offend you in taking ad­vantage of those Bounties you have always express'd to me; it is but for want of understanding well what it is to love, that I have made a theft of which I had not well weigh'd the consequences; but Madamoiselle, I am ready to expiate my fault in all that you shall please to order me to do: And if I have been too foolish, it shall make me wiser for the future: Here are the Verses which I did ill to take, added he, presenting them to her; and seeing I have had the ill fortune to displease you in robbing you of them; I foresee that I do you a singular kindness in restoring them to you a­gain.

She thought at first that St. Sauveur gave her the change; she had heard his Discourse with at­tention: She remain'd a moment startled at it, but at last having resolved to remain serious, You [Page 66]are very inquisitive and very bold, she reply'd, to take upon you the knowledge of my Sentiments, after having so sensibly offended me; in truth, I know not after what man­ner you pretend to justifie your self; I know that Friendship has its just bounds, and that you have this day appear'd to me very different from your self. This Discourse deliver'd with a little Heat, caus'd him to blush and grow pale again, and his Heart panting with Love and Vexation, knew not what party to take; when Chanlieu inter­rupted by his presence a Con­versation which began to grow warm; he presently observ'd some anger on his Sisters face, and guessing the cause to be the reading of the Verses which he had given her; he thought he was frown'd upon on that occa­sion; he appear'd vex'd at it, and drawing from her coldness an [Page 67]ill Omen for his Friend; he let himself go to a Sorrow capable to confirm him in his Error. He made a sign to St. Sauveur to follow him out, to discourse with him in the cause that could pro­duce so great a Melancholly in so short a time; and this last finding himself confounded with all his Questions, cunningly feign­ed a necessity of retiring, and took leave of him somewhat ha­stily. He instantly run to his Sister to learn from her self the cause of this mysterious departure, finding her more chearful than be­fore, she laid all the cause on the unevenness of her temper: Yet durst he not enquire concerning her Sentiments on St. Hubert's Gallantry; He thought it more proper to send and Express for him, that he might come and in­form himself of his good or bad Fortune; he fail'd not to be there [Page 68]the very next day before his Mi­stress was up, resolv'd to declare his Passion to her in most mo­ving terms.

He felt on this occasion a trou­ble, which join'd to his natural timidity, put him into a great consternation; he alter'd five or six times his mind, and at last having a little setled himself, and drawn new vigour from the great­ness of his Love, he broke that Silence which he had for some time kept, he performed it in a manner accompany'd with an ap­prehension which did highly grace the beauty of his Complement. He protested to her, That she was not to be offended but at her own Charms for it, that he had resisted his Passion with vehemency, but that at last he had been forc'd to yield to so many Charms. You may have seen perhaps a slight Draught of my Flame, in my Verses which your Bro­ther [Page 69]gave you yesterday, added he, beholding her with a languishing Transport; you ought to look for my excuse but in your Eyes, they are only guilty of the attempt, and all reasoning is to be laid aside when one goes about so fair a Conquest; there is no Learning nor Morals can hold, and the greatest difficul­ties are with ease overcome.

This fair one having heard him, without speaking, kept silence a little while longer, and by that shew'd that there pass'd a great Combat in her mind: She at last gave a great sigh, which smother'd part of what she would have an­swer'd, and she rested satisfy'd in saying, That his Complement was so extraordinary, that she knew not what to judge of it, and that the Age was sufficiently Gallant to have inspir'd him with Follies, so common with the Ingenious; yet I am wil­ling, continu'd she, to render you [Page 70]some Justice in this Rencounter, and to believe that there is some Inte­grity in your proceeding, what good would it do you to love me? And if the thing be true, will you not do better to cure your self in time, ra­ther than to persist to see me? Our Religions are at present at open Difference, we are crush'd down with new Declarations, and it wants but little that the Clergy thinks not of forbidding the Catholicks on pain of Fire not to have any Prote­stant Intreagues: Believe me, Knight, cure your self, if it be possible, and without having occasion of letting you know what my Sentiments are; be satisfy'd that another should not come off so easily. Ah! Madamoi­selle, cry'd he at this long Dis­course Love is of all Religions, and it becomes not Men to make Laws for him that rules all the World; he little regards dangers, and drawing from himself the most [Page 71]proper means to his end, he is suf­ficiently ingenuous to bring about what ever he undertakes: No, Ma­damoiselle, your Orders are too difficult to perform; and I have al­ways heard say, that nothing but Death can free one from so fair and so strong a Chain as mine is. He express'd those last words with an ingenuity that was capable to mollify her; she stood in want of all her Fortitude to prevent him from taking notice of some marks; so that retiring deeper in­to her Character of severity, she oblig'd him to leave off a Dis­course, which seem'd not to please her.

Chanlieu, who was hearkning, ravish'd with so passionate a Con­versation, thought that he might come in and nick the time, with joining his Reasons to those of his Friend; he boldly came in, and taking one of his Sisters fair [Page 72]hands, he subtly laid it into St. Hubert's, who venturing to kiss it with fervour, presently sought for the effect in her Eyes, which that Action might have produc'd, and finding nothing there that was sinister to his love, he took the boldness to speak to her of it as eloquently as he could pos­sible.

Long since had Madamoiselle of Chanlieu known the Knight St. Hubert's passion, and her Heart had already given to it self di­vers Lessons on that Chapter; she found nothing in it of advantage for her part; and setting aside all his fine. Qualities, she fretted at her self, and at her small risi­stance; Sometimes she would flat­ter her self in her amorous thoughts, and her Brothers exam­ple seem'd to authorise her in di­vers things. Those Reflexions gave her but little rest, and her [Page 73]uneasiness did clearly appear on her face, she had a Maid Servant, in whom she did much confide, and who already was the confident of that pain which tormented her; she made her to lie with her that night, and did conjure her to give her Remedies proper for her pas­sion; how cross is Love, said she sighing, to kindle in two hearts so opposite in Religion, one and the same Love, so much agreement, with so much antipathy; then ad­ding those reasons which she thought to have to hate the Knight, she would afterwards en­deavour to justifie her inclinations, and let her self be carry'd away by the rapid motion of her Star.

La Grange, (so was that Maid nam'd,) who knew after what manner she was to manage her Mistresses mind, had never directly oppos'd her self to her pleasure, [Page 74]not to affrighten her passion on the suddain, she had contented her self 'till then, to dexterously insinuate to her, without affecta­tion, some hatred for all that was Catholick, and whether through that Motive, or for other secret Reasons, she never ceas'd speaking well of St. Sauveur; yet per­ceiving that now her heart was on the point of determination, she made her so powerful a repre­sentation of the evil consequences which she did foresee, thereby to retard the course of a tenderness, which was taking a Road so con­trary to her desires, that at last she did quite byass her. She said that so strong a passion could not be cur'd, but by violent Reme­dies; that to that effect, she was to accustom her self with some Gentleman worthy of her; that that was an easie way to destroy the Ideas of a primary flame, and [Page 75]that she found nothing in St. Sauveur unworthy of her e­steem.

Madmoiselle of Chanlieu found both good sence and ingenuity in that proposition, and becoming melancholick in the highest de­gree, had almost no other thoughts than to free her self from that evil which possess'd her: she in­treated her Brother to press her no longer on a thing so disadvan­tageous to her; she let him see the difference there was betwixt an Hugonot who lov'd a Catholick Woman, and a Catholick who lov'd an Hugonot Woman; that his example ought not to perswade her, nor to render her guilty of his weaknesses. Chanlieu not knowing whence that blow came, was mov'd at this discourse, and had not his Love taken him by his own interest, perhaps he had found those reasons of his Sister [Page 76]very lawful; he then carp'd at all she said, and complain'd of it in a manner to make her appre­hend how far his vexation did go.

That was the Cause, why she resolv'd to use a great manage­ment in her concerns, and to tem­porise: she affected a gay hu­mour, and though resolv'd never to sacrifice her Conscience's inte­rest to that of her Love; she did frequently give St. Hubert some little marks of that which she had for him: this constraint did in­finitely disturb her Soul, and so rapid an agitation causing her to fall into a violent fever; there was for some days a doubt of her Cure; but at last youth, and her good habit did re-establish her, almost against her own de­sires.

It can not be said how much that sickness caus'd of trouble to [Page 77]St. Hubert, he himself had like to have died with sorrow, while that St. Sauveur enrag'd to see, as it were in the arms of another, a Person whose Conquest he had thought so easie, did find some ease in his affliction, by that which his Rival did feel. He gave her a visit, and having been inform'd that she had spoke his name in the height of her raving, he the more pressingly did express to her the share which he bore in her indisposition. She receiv'd his Compliment in a very acknow­ledging manner, gave him to be­lieve she approv'd of his visit That Gentleman who did not ex­pect such a favourable reception, return'd her a thousand thanks, and went from her but with re­gret, he could not guess whence that kind reception proceeded unless her Sickness had render'd her more tractable than formerly.

It was about that time that St. Hubert had some information that his Kinsman the Viscount was come into that Province, where he had conducted the Marchioness his Wife; his devoir inviting him to give them a Visit; he learnt du­ring his stay with them the oc­casion of their misunderstanding. The Viscount had formerly given a very rich Cabinet to the Mar­chioness, in which the Workman had made a secret very difficult to be discover'd; and there remaining in it by accident a Billet-dous which he writ to her, she after his de­parture having examin'd every corner of the Cabinet, had be­liev'd the Bill to be design'd for some other, and being jealous of her self, her passion had dictated that which he receiv'd in Lorain, so that at his return he had re­solv'd to avoid all future misun­derstandings by a sudden Mariage, [Page 79]and so conclude that to be only the means which could set him at ease. The Marchioness smil'd at the discourse, and said that if any one had taken advantage of her cre­dulity, that for the future she would no longer pass for simple, and that the Viscount would take but too great advantages of her weakness: The Knight took de­light in that little fuge, and gave them also an exact account of his late Adventures, how that he had found by chance, that which he could never find by any applica­tion; with divers other passages of his Love. The Marchioness resented a great deal of joy at it, and in the desire to see a person that so much resembled her, she engag'd St. Hubert to afford her that satisfaction, so soon as she should be recover'd of her indispo­sition; she enquired of him whe­ther he found himself Well of his [Page 80]Love, and whether he believ'd not there were some Schism or Heresie in the Service of a Hu­gonot? on which he crav'd a cessation of Arms after a gallant manner; and made her a pro­found and pleasant Reverence, which stood in place of a Re­partee.

A Lover highly smitten can­not make long discourses in one and the same place, he still bears something in his mind that di­sturbs him, and deprives him of a great tranquility. Thus he had pass'd whole Months at the Vis­counts, with that joy which for­merly the Marchioness did inspire in him, on the likeness she had with Madmoiselle of Chanlieu: He had then consolated himself of her absence on so fair an ac­count, had not the desire which he had of knowing his Condition, continually persecuted him: he [Page 81]got on horseback, and that very day came to her, where he found Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, who was purposely come to take her friend in order to make her change air, and the Journey was con­cluded with Chanlieu against the next day.

They were no sooner come to his House, but he particularly and wholly apply'd himself to procure them all the Divertise­ments that the Season would afford; he daily invented new ones, and being satisfied with­himself to have so agreeable a Company, he fancy'd such Cro­tesco's, which he contriv'd in such sort, as made his wit to be ad­mir'd: Madmoiselle of Chanlieu perceiv'd it but too much, and her heart which felt no real flame but for him, did endeavour to quench it by divers Lessons which she read to her self; all her ef­forts [Page 82]were very weak in that re­spect, and if on the one hand she had the vexation to love a Man, which could not marry her, on the other, she found a particular Charm to behold and hear him which was capable to discover her secret. Love and Reason, gave by turns cruel onsets to her mind, and representing to her self fate more dangerous than it was, she was very uneasie. All endeavour'd to dissipate that Melancholly, which seem'd as a relick of her Distem­per. And Madmoiselle of St. Hu­bert having made her promise to be chearful, they resolv'd to put a pleasant trick upon the Vis­count.

He had writ to the Knight that he would come to see him. This last having sancy'd that he might take Madmoiselle of Chan­lieu for his own Lady, he desir'd Chanlieu to dispose his Sister to [Page 83]take that day they should come, such an undress as the Marchi­oness us'd to wear, she easily consented to it; the Viscount came late with his Lady, and Saluted the whole Company, except Mad­moiselle of Chanlieu, whom he really took for his own Lady; mean time fancying that he had seen her in two places at once, he remanin'd in a doubt, that gave occasion to a fit of laughing, which discompos'd him. The Marchioness having first taken no­tice of the mistake, went and took Madmoiselle of Chanlieu by the hand, made her a thousand Ca­resses on their resemblance, and presented her to her Husband; who, no longer doubting but she was the Person of whom he had heard so much, Saluted her, and told her a hundred pleasant things on that Subject: the time they were together having afforded [Page 84]divers agreeable Conversations, she related to her the story of het Bracelet, which she promis'd to send to him.

This Rencounter having stirr'd up a desire in those ingenious Persons, of frequently seeing one another, they made Matches, from which Love, who gains from all things, gain'd advantage; and if the opening of the Campaign had not disturb'd such innocent plea­sures, nothing had been wanting to their entire happiness: The fair Chanlieu had no longer so great a weight of Melancholy, and Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, who was naturally more airy, had so aptly inclin'd her mind towards pleasures, that she insen­sibly did take delight to divert her self as well as the rest; she had for some time committed the conduct of her Heart to her own destiny, and but weakly oppos'd [Page 85]her self to the power of her passion: La Granges Counsels were fallen lame by the way, and St. Sauveur came no longer in Competition. Divertisement would not allow her any time to think on her first Enterprise, and St. Hu­bert did easily find out opportu­nities in which to express his ten­derness to her; but Orders being come, they were forc'd to part: Chanlieu would go a Volunteer to partake of those dangers which might befall him; and this se­paration, preceeded by a tender Farewel, drew a deluge of Tears, not excepting Madmoiselle of Chanlieu. I must confess that St. Hu­bert told her the most moving things in the World; he did par­ticularise to her the secret moti­ons of his passion, and omitted nothing to make her approve of so Heroick a Love. Must it be that through a diversity of Faith (said [Page 86]he) you should refuse to give me yours, which would render me most happy? believe me, Mad­moiselle, the Orders of the Court shall never make me to act any thing to your preju­dice: You shall ever be the Mistress of my Heart, and I shall sacrifice with pleasure my Fortune to my Love. Then would he change Discourse, to inform her after what manner they might Love without agreeing in their Religions; he seem'd by these Arguments to set both their Hearts in a perfect harmony, and that nothing could oppose it; he offer'd at making some agree­ments as to the difference of their Belief, but she for her part un­willing to venture any thing of that nature, called him a Love Casuist, she told him that he look'd on their difference in O­pinions, but by the most advan­tageous [Page 87]Light, and that he spoke but by halves concerning their difficulties: Yes, Knight, I sus­pect you, added she, and If I distrust my self in Love, why may not I suspect you? I insist not to obtain a Victory, which perhaps might cost me my Life. Remember, that it would suf­fice many others if I did but meerly assure them of my Friend­ship, and that I wish you an hap­py return. He could obtain no­thing more than the permission of Writing to her, when Monsieur of Chanlieu would inform him of her Health, and taking leave of her, they went their ways with the Viscount, all three possess'd with very different thoughts.

Monsieur the Marshal of Cre­qui, was very eager to recover that credit by the taking of Lux­emburg, which he had lost through the great Snow that had fallen [Page 88]the Year before, and to reduce a place which he had been in a manner oblig'd to quit. All the Winter had been employ'd about all the necessary Preparations, to beat back Parties that continually Sally'd out on the Plains; the Orders were given from Court, and the Approaches were made with more ease than was expected; the Trench was open'd, and the Prince of Chymai omitting nothing on his part, for the preservation of a Town which he was resolv'd to defend for divers Reasons, both Parties dispos'd themselves to a vigorous offence and de­fence. The Governour, that he might not tax himself of any neglect, fail'd not in the least to any Duty of his function, and ad­ding policy to strength, caus'd in one Night all his Batteries to be rais'd, on certain elevations which command a great Plain; and the [Page 89]next day he sent some Squadrons to shew themselves on that side; the Besiegers who went to Charge them, sent their Horse after them, but the Spaniards giving way too soon, there was not had from the fire of the Batteries all the success, which had been expected. Yet St. Hu­bert, who had been Commanded one of the first, to beat back that Party, was wounded with a splinter in the Head, and though his Wound did not appear very dangerous, it caus'd him a very violent Fever, which put his Friend into some fears.

He writ word of it to his Sister, who during their long absence had liesure to abandon her self to her austere Reflections: La Grange, who found those mo­ments favourable to her desires, did incessantly labour in them, and St. Sauveur was on his part [Page 90]very assiduous, in expressing to her after a nice manner some­thing of his Passion. This Char­ming Maiden assaulted so many ways, did resist as much as she could possibly, and Love would soon make her to return from all that she undertook to his pre­judice. How happy am I, said she one day, in the heighth of her thoughts, to still dispair following that Party, which Reason and my Duty lead me to, and that a fatal Love should come unpu­nished to triumph over my weak­ness! no, continued she, I must triumph in my turn, and after I have so long suffer'd, I will take up a resolution, advanta­geous to my Conscience, and fa­tal to my Tenderness: My Heart which first yielded, shall be the first Victim which I will sacrifice to my severity, and St. Sauveur shall possess that place, which I [Page 91]had too weakly given up to a Catholick.

This last thought had so prevail'd over her mind, that she omitted no means of finding opportunities to favour St. Sauveur, and to give him marks of a tenderness, which she endeavour'd to ravish from St. Hubert: He was privately ad­vertis'd of it by his correspondent; and if he had not made and amo­rous scruple of accepting of an Heart which was not offer'd him by a Principle of Inclination, per­adventure that he had wholly triumph'd over his Rival, not­withstanding all the Indifferency which was had for him: He therefore complain'd of the man­ner after which he was to be belov'd, and refining on the score of sensibility, he protested to her that he preferr'd hatred to such a kind of Love, that he had stu­died on the nature of tenderness, [Page 92]and that he figur'd to himself no pleasure but in a conformity of Sentiments.

This generous proceeding was capable of increasing that esteem which she might have for him; Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, in disco­vering to him that which she felt for St. Hubert, did on the other hand assure him, that it was not only through necessity, that she had resolv'd to receive him fa­vourably; that friendship usually was a fore-runner of Love, and that in a word he fram'd to him­self Chimeras on a Party which he ought to embrace with joy; that she would cure her self in time of a flame, which she look'd on already as guilty, and that he ought not to distrust his own good Parts. In all that, there was nothing but what was very obliging, and St. Sauveur had doubtless pass'd over all conside­rations, [Page 93]if there had been any bottom in all those advances which were made him: Madmoi­selle of Chanlieu still wavering in her designs, wish'd her self ill for having made him such large ad­vances, and the Idea of the Knight appearing again to her Eyes with all his Charms, she retracted in her self those Offers which she had made in favour of his Rival. The news also of his illness came so pat to disturb that new Pro­ject, that one scarcely can de­scribe the effect which it pro­duc'd: Compassion brought back her true Love, and made her then, more than ever, to know the true Character of her Passion.

She was oppress'd with fear, and apprehending the danger greater than it was, her Soul was plung'd into inconceivable trou­bles and agitations: She would sometimes represent to her self [Page 94]the Knight half dead; and some­times again she would check that thought which she had entertain'd of driving him from a place which so justly possess'd: She render'd a Visit to Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, to shew her what part she took in that sorrow which that ill News did cause her, and resolv'd not to leave her very soon, she gave Orders to keep that Visit private, that she might not be disturb'd. They related to one another very agreeable things on the conformity of their Inclina­tions; they exclam'd against that blindness of Fate, that had pro­duc'd such cross oppositions in their Amours, in managing so ill their Inclinations; they both storm'd against the rigour of the Edicts, and a Thousand times wish'd to have them re-establish'd in the same condition in which Henry the Great had left them.

Finally, after having express'd great Complaints, they thought they ought to temporise a little, and that peradventure time would produce then some unexpected means; that it were better to wait patiently for the time to come, than to torment them­selves through uncertain apprehen­sions. That was the best part they had to take; it is to languish to be always foreseing what is to happen either of pleasant or distastful; the privation of a Good which we hope for, passes in our minds for a real loss, and it is but the forwarding of ones evil, thus to seek after it before it be come. St. Sauveur, could not tell since that time to what to at­tribute that coldness which he found in Madmoiselle of Chan­lieu's proceeding; and though he valued himself on the account of Penetration, yet could he not [Page 96]discover the true cause thereof. All that La Grange could say, was, that it was an effect of her Mi­stress's Irresolution; he would not believe it, and boggling at all things, he fruitlesly sought after that which was so easie to be found; his hopes being so soon vanish'd away did much afflict him, and meeting, notwithstand­ing all his new Attempts, with a resistance which he had not ex­pected, his Resentment prevail'd above his Reason, and vex'd to have been the Cully of a Woman, he resolv'd to have no considera­tions for a Person who had so little regard for him.

There is nothing so dangerous as a Lover, who thinks himself play'd upon by that Person of whom he is favour'd; his Love frequently degenerates into fury, and nothing is capable to put a stop to his fatal designs. St. Sauveur [Page 97]resenting a wrong which he look'd on as the highest of scorn, prepossess'd on the other hand with his good Qualities, pass'd on the sudden into extravagancies, and resolv'd to revenge himself, at any rate soever. He remember'd that an Italian had frequently mention'd to him a compos'd Per­fume, which might easily. be in­clos'd in a Packet of Letters, and which at the very first opening would attack with his suttle and corrosive parts, whatsoever offer'd it self to them.

He was not ignorant how jea­lous a young Lady is of her Beauty, and that treachery seem'd to him proper for his revenge, he was resolv'd to make use of it, to punish that which he call'd the infidelity of a Demon, in Madmoiselle of Chanlieu; it was her Face that had first of all poison'd his Heart, he thought [Page 98]by that, his Enterprise to be Au­thoris'd, and that after he should have destroy'd her Charms, he should easily compass the rest; that the Cause once ceasing, the ef­fects would cease also, and that she should have leisure to repent of the wrong which she had done him. He went his way in that cruel resolution, to find out his Man at Paris, and to set him to work about that instrument of his Revenge.

Without dispute, Love fre­quently produces strange Meta­morphoses, and if it is a fine thing in it self, he yet sometimes begets Monsters. St. Sauveur had always pass'd for a brave and good Man, incapable of an ill Action, and some little vanity which he naturally had, did not hinder but that he had acquir'd the Reputation and Esteem of gal­lant Men. Mean time his Passion [Page 99]having seiz'd his Brain, he fansied that he had right to revenge him­self of an unconstancy, and his despised flame continually offering it self to his Eyes, he resolv'd in that infatuation, to satisfy himself at the cost of his Honour and Conscience. So soon as the Per­fume was finish'd, he first made a trial of it on a Wretch, so that being assur'd of the Success, he got the Italian to make up the Packet, which he himself sealed with a counterfeit Cypher of St. Hubert, in opinion that the Letter would therefore be open'd with more eagerness, and being return'd home, he gave order to have it sent to the Post-house; after which, being fill'd with black me­lancholy Thoughts, he abstain'd from seeing her, for fear her pre­sence should make him to alter his design, and went out of a Kingdom where his Conscience [Page 100]began to be tormented on divers accounts.

It will be something surprising, to hear that a Person capable of so much baseness, should quit his Country on a Principle of Reli­gion; but whether through that motive, or through some other, it is still certain that he retir'd into Holland, where he had great Acquaintances, perhaps it was also, that he would absent himself from a place, where he had been put to such Trials, and not to be near a Person that he treated so inhu­manely. He left a Servant behind him, in whom he put great Con­fidence, to give him an account of that Business, and stole away, not taking leave of any body. Divers Persons were surpriz'd at his disappearing, and Madmoiselle of Chanlieu not knowing where to attribute this Retreat positively, believ'd that an amorous disgust [Page 101]might have call'd him to Paris to seek after other Divertise­ments, he having taken that Road to bring him at the Hague in Holland.

He could scarce seek after a Retreat more agreeable, and more proper to divert his melancholy Thoughts, both by its curious Si­tuation, and the fine People which usually meet at the Prince of O­range's, who then was seeking af­ter all the means imaginable to put a stop to the King's Progress, which were publickly term'd an Invasion, and an infraction of the last Treaties at Nimeguen; but Alas! the more he sought to di­vert himself, the less he found him­self in a condition to relish the least Divertisement; his late Action did continually present it self to his Mind, and his Rage having given some place to Reason, he resented a torment which afforded [Page 102]him no rest. In this mortal rest­lesness, he learnt by his Man's arrival the mischief which his Perfume had caus'd, in taking away Madamoiselle of Chanlieu's Life with her Beauty; that that Tragedy had surpriz'd divers Per­sons, and that at the first noise of it he had hastned to join him at the Rendevous. Never was Man more deeply struck than he was at that Relation, he fell into a kind of a Swound, which de­priv'd him of his Senses, and at last coming to himself again, he continued making of reproaches to himself that mov'd compassion; he twenty times call'd himself the Executioner of the fairest Person in the World; and passing from invectives to a giddiness, he se­cretly felt a sorrow which de­vour'd him. So many sufferings did at last alter his Health; he fell into a languidness, that was [Page 103]accompanied with an excessive Feaver, whence he hop'd to receive a perfect Cure.

Mean time, his Man had de­ceiv'd himself in the relation which he had made him, and that noise which had been made of the Death of Madmoiselle of Chan­lieu, had been found false. La Grange, who was St. Sauveur's Creature, and who improv'd by his Liberality, having been the first that receiv'd that Packet, did not doubt examining the Seal, but that it came from St. Hubert, she imagin'd that she should do a singular piece of Service to St. Sauveur to suppress it, and make him partaker of its Contents; she open'd it then with great earnestness, and the Poison eva­porating at that instant, made presently a passage for it self through the Mouth on to the Heart, she made a great out-cry, [Page 104]which made some Persons run to her, but nothing could preserve her from a sudden Death.

No body did imagine that her illness proceeded from that Paper, which was not so much as minded, nor the Author capable of such a Crime; it was rather attributed to those sudden Accidents, which sometimes happen when the least thought on. Madmoiselle of Chan­lieu was sorry at it, and nothing less than the return of two Per­sons so dear to her could dissi­pate her grief: St. Hubert, and Chanlieu, came very opportunely for her, and she being resolv'd to follow her own tendency, she thought thenceforth to profit by those Lessons, which Love had made her during their absence. In effect, to what purpose thus so obstinately to oppose our selves to our desires? The Remedies we seek after do but increase our pain, [Page 105]and in Love alone is to be found a Cure for Love; all Preservatives are useless, we seem to triumph over it for a time, but only to render our weakness more no­torious. This was the Condition in which was her heart, and St. Hubert, who knew what Cor­rective she made use of, did so well play his batteries that way, that he never shot at random; he set himself up for a Master­mender of both the Religions, and dexterously applying those soft­nings which Monsieur of Condom has made use of to delude the Reformed, he had perhaps led her into some of those kind of Pit­falls, if she had had less of in­lightning, and of fortitude.

The Edicts, and the King's new Declarations did then cause an infinite number of innocent Per­sons to shed tears, and forc'd a great number to flye from a [Page 106]Countrey where their minds were kept under such a severe slavery. Madmoiselle of Chanlieu did so in­genuously disingage her self from those false shadows which Love us'd to lull her Conscience asleep, that she vow'd to follow the ex­ample of so many generous Fu­gitives, and to abandon her own Countrey.

The Passages began to be possess'd, since the Squabbles of the Province of Daulphine, and she had gladly made use of St. Sauveur, to facilitate her retreat, if it had been possible; his Crime was still unknown to her, and she had easily intrusted her self to his Cares and Conduct.

She openly chid her Brother on his sluggishness, and told him things grounded on so firm and Christian a Moral, that perad­venture he had resolv'd not to be, of the number of the Tem­porisers, [Page 107]if he had less permitted himself to be possess'd with his passion. In this confusion she be­liev'd that she might obtain one thing from her Lover's Genero­sity, after which she sigh't with so much ardency, his merit was not unknown to her, and in the hopes of receiving from him that mark of a truly Heroick Love, on which she should account all her life time, she resolv'd to propose it to him at the first opportunity; and beginning, by letting him see in her lovely eyes, and in her actions, some part of her tender­ness; How unjust and capricious is Fate, said she to him, to that purpose? I find in my self some dispositions to love you, which cause me to blush, and if my whole Religion did not step in to my aid, perhaps you would not complain of my severity: But, Knight, judge without Interest, [Page 98] [...] [Page 99] [...] [Page 100] [...] [Page 101] [...] [Page 102] [...] [Page 103] [...] [Page 104] [...] [Page 105] [...] [Page 106] [...] [Page 107] [...] [Page 108]of the Party which is left me to take; or rather acknowledge your self, that you would be sorry to see a thing happen, which would cost me no less than my life. I could wish in a word, that our Religions could agree together as well as our hearts: Alas! you should not then reproach me of Insensibility. There she shed a­bundance of tears, which had like to have made St. Hubert die with Love; he cleav'd to her knees, and endeavouring to gather on his face some of that precious water, he told her languishingly, that he should make to himself perpetual reproaches to have lov'd her, if his Love was not of a different Character from that of other men; and if he did not distinguish that bright flame which kindled it. Yes, Madmoiselle, answer'd he to her, I love you like a Goddess, and your Orders are so dear to me, [Page 109]that it shall never be said that I have refus'd punctually to put in ex­ecution what-ever you shall com­mand me. I am ready to sacrifice to you my Interests, and my Life, and after those soft words I have newly heard, I cannot dye unhappy.

Alas! answer'd she, I never doubted of the brightness of your flame; I know you but too much, Knight, and perhaps I should not know you so much, but this in­justice of the Court disconsolates me; and seeing I must begin to give you some marks of my weak­ness, by that of my confidence, I am forc'd to confess to you, that nothing ties me more to my own Country, than the pleasure I have to see you there; and that my Conscience incessantly pressing me on that point, I cannot defer going else-where to seek out a safe place of refuge for it. You sigh, added she, but do you not [Page 110]find, that it is better yet, that I should live absent from you, than to expire with grief and sorrow; yet there is no medium, those two extremities are Infallible; and if my flight saves me not from the danger I am in, nothing else but death can free me from it. Think of it, St. Hubert, continu'd she, you alone can save me, and if the Heavens do ever re-unite us again, I do promise you that it shall be by that obligation accom­pany'd with all my tenderness, that I shall begin to crown your flame.

This Lover cast down in him­self, through his Love, and his Virtue, knew not how to resolve himself to become the instrument of his own misfortune, he pre­sently conceiv'd her intention, and reflecting on the oddness of his Fate, he was a long time consi­dering in himself, without saying [Page 111]a word, their Souls saw one ano­ther through their eyes, and he finally broke silence by an answer interrupted with sighs; I should amuse my self, to seek for Succour in a long reasoning, said he, to remove from you a thought, which directly opposes the inte­rest of my Love, and I should en­deavour to make you quit a De­sign so fatal to my quiet, if I did not know the stedfastness of your resolutions. I know, Madmoiselle, that you will always do what you will by invincible reasonings; I even know that you will find in my blindful obedience more of Ardency and Passion, than of in­differency, that you will attribute to the greatness of my flame, that submission for every thing that comes from your desires. But, Madmoiselle, have you consider'd well of it? And should we not both do better to take some con­siderable [Page 112]time to run over this en­terprize? No, added he, Mad­moiselle, I am overcome, and though it should cost me ten thousand Lives, I will sacrifice them to you, and deprive my self of a good that I should prefer to all the blessings of the World. He ended these words with so moving an air, that she had much to do to refrain expressing her Resentments to him by such Caresses as had been full of innocency. Ah! Love, Love, how unjustly dost thou treat us, (they both cry'd out,) and having tenderly press'd each others hands, they parted with sorrow painted on their faces.

Chanlieu, having suspected some­thing of his Sister's Design, found himself in a great confusion; he went to see St. Hubert, who made out the business to him, and in re­lation to his particular interest, that he might perswade him to [Page 113]divert that enterprize, he told him in that view, that there might be some intelligence betwixt his Si­ster, and St. Sauveur; that his re­tirement render'd the thing but too likely, that at least, it was necessary, first, to be well inform'd of it, before they proceeded any further. But St. Hubert obser­ving by this Discourse, that Love only could be capable of such a reasoning, answer'd him, that he was assur'd of his Sister's right in­tentions, and that far from be­lieving that any other had any place in her heart, he did not de­spair one day to possess her wholly himself; protested to him at the same time, that no distance should be in the least prejudicial to his Love; that on the contrary, he should seek more than ever after his friendship, in this absence.

This assurance having set Chan­lieu in his right temper again, he [Page 114]return'd home, to discourse with his Sister about it, and to let her know, that he should follow her so soon as he had set his Concerns in the best order he could pos­sible. He effectually began it, in drawing considerable Bills of Exchange for her, upon a Rich Banker of London; and not da­ring to accompany her far, to avoid all suspicions, she took the Road to Paris, where St. Hubert waited for her.

She afterwards went from thence, habited like a young English Lord, with him and a Woman, whom she had oblig'd also to put on a Man's Apparel: His Com­pany was at Calis, and the Packet-Boat being ready the next day after they came he gain'd some Fisher-men to carry that precious trust to that English Vessel, so soon as it should be a League at Sea. The hour of parting being [Page 115]come, it may be said that there did then pass betwixt those two Per­sons the most tender farewel in the world. Madmoiselle of Chan­lieu did find so many charms in that last action, that she thought her self not oblig'd to observe much Decorum: she assur'd him, that that separation did increase that esteem she had for him, and that the Fates would one day find a Secret to re-unite them more closely; tears after that were shed on both sides, and she being got into their Vessel with her Wo­man, the Knight return'd home uncapable to conceal his sorrow.

He pass'd a very ill night, un­certain as he was of his Destiny, he complain'd against his pro­ceeding, then finding nothing in it but what was generous, he concluded that Love ought to have treated him with more mild­ness and indulgency. By break [Page 116]of day he sent for one of the Fish­er-men, and having learnt that they had successfully put the La­dies on board the Packet-Boat, he was less uneasie, and better sa­tisfied. But that Tranquillity lasted not long, and that beginning was follow'd with a very Tragical conclusion. He frequently did go to the Sea-shore, as if to ask what news of his Mistress; and some days being pass'd in an unparallel'd expectation of Letters; news was brought by another Packet-Boat, that the first had wrack'd against an Hollander, and that the storm was so high, that they had not fav'd so much as the Crew. He had this Fatal and Sorrowful Ad­venture repeated five or six times over, and fearing publickly to discover a grief which might have betray'd his Secret, he went and melted into tears in his Closet.

Nothing could consolate him, [Page 117]and that loss appear'd so sensible to him, that he soon found him­self in a Condition worthy of Compassion; he reproach'd to himself to have been the cause (through his blind complacency) of the death of a Person whom he so tenderly lov'd; sometimes he not only desir'd death, but in that moment he would have sought after it with honour; he would still return on the Shore, to re­proach that Merciless Element of its great injustice, and to demand of it at least that body which it was unworthy to contain. He would seek about for some pieces of the wrack, and he abandon'd himself to a Sorrow that was ca­pable to kill him.

An Officer of Fustenberg, who had his Chamber near to his, and who had heard him complain in private, mistrusted something of his ill fortune, and took the li­berty [Page 118]to speak to him of it; he at first feign'd to have formerly had such a misfortune as his, that what he should say to him, might make a stronger impression on his mind. He added, that peradventure she might have escap'd from perishing, that the thing was not impossible, and that he should not do ill to take a turn in Holland to inform himself exactly of it. That Pro­position pleas'd the Knight, and this Officer having had leave to go to Denmark, whence he was, he offer'd to accompany him; so that they went down the River Escaut, and visited all the Sea­ports of those Provinces, till at last he believ'd he might hear more fully at Amsterdam (where they parted) the particulars of that Shipwrack, which pierc'd his heart.

His restlesness scarce affording him any rest: he continually [Page 119]walk'd in the great places of that Town; he would frequently go so far as the Texell, to know whether the Vessel which had caus'd the Packet-Boat to miscarry, was not return'd; he put all the Seamen he met with on that Theme, and the uncertainty that every body was in about that Vessel, serv'd but to increase his Sorrow, and send him home with an addition of Grief. One day as he pass'd through the Quarters of the Jews, he was stop'd there by an Object which surpriz'd him; and in the dread of finding in it the certainty of his Misfor­tune, nothing but his despair could oblige him, as it were against his will to draw nearer to it; it was a Woman's habit, which he knew but too well for that of his unfor­tunate Mistress; he became mo­tionless at the sight of a thing that depriv'd him of all the rest [Page 110] [...] [Page 111] [...] [Page 112] [...] [Page 113] [...] [Page 114] [...] [Page 115] [...] [Page 116] [...] [Page 117] [...] [Page 118] [...] [Page 119] [...] [Page 120]of his hopes; he had not the power to speak for a while, his Soul being at last return'd from its wandering, he look't on those sad Relicks in the most sad and most moving manner imagina­ble; he ask'd the price of it, and enquir'd of the Jew how he had come by it?

It was by the means of a Cor­respondence at Roan, by whom he frequently receiv'd old Cloaths. The wracks of the Packet-Boat, which had been driven to shore, had been found by Souldiers, who had kept them, but so long time as requir'd to sell them; and be­cause an exact search was made after all that had been found, they had rid themselves of it so fast as they could. The Knight thus inform'd, pay'd for the Suit, and had it carried to his Cham­ber, where he water'd it with a torrent of tears. He complain'd [Page 121]of his ill sate in so moving an air, that no body could forbear to Sympathise with him in his sor­row; he was laid in a Bed over­come with grief, and in a Con­dition that mov'd compassion; he at first refus'd all sort of nourish­ment, but at last he took a reso­lution worthy of his Courage; for in the thoughts that the Sea might have cast on Shoar the Body of a Person so dear to him, he resolv'd to examine all the Coasts adjacent to the wrack, to enquire after a thing which appear'd so important to his Love; he got to the Hague, where he was oblig'd to rest two days, to repair the troubles of his mind; but rest did but increase his restlesness; he found in all places the Person he hunted after, and Madmoiselle of Chanlieu did continually appear be­fore his eyes, his imagination would make him divers represen­tations of the Shipwrack; which [Page 122]griev'd him so, that some times, believing himself present at that accident, he would frequently rise on the sudden, as if to assist her whom he thought to see in the midst of the waves.

In the heighth of these his ra­vings, there happen'd an adven­ture in his Inn, which serv'd but to confound him the more; St. Sauveur had lodg'd there, during his stay in that Town; and the Knight's appartment had been his. He had taken Ship to go for Eng­land, overcome [...] remorces, and the negligence of his Man, who had let him forget some loose Papers in the corner of a Chamber, behind the Hangings, gave opportunity to St. Hubert's Man to lay his hands on them; amongst which, he found a Let­ter, which he gave to his Master; it was a description of St. Sauveur's Love, his Pursuits, and his un­fortunate Effects; he there impos'd [Page 123]on himself most grievous torments, and severe punishments; and de­clar'd that being unworthy to live after so barbarous an action, he design'd to end the rest of his days, in the bottom of some hor­rid and dismal Wilderness; that to begin the punishment of his Crime, he would Publish it, and by that means, make some kind of reparation to a Person whom he had treated with so much in­humanity; the Letter was with­out direction, and concluded with an Eternal farewel, and assurances, that he was going to end the rest of his days in some hollow Cave in the Isle of Carolina.

The Knight was not long be­fore he found the sence to this Letter, which was design'd for La Grange, on whom all the ill fate of that Enterprize had fallen; he doubted not but that this un­fortunate Lover was the Author of a death which had made some [Page 124]noise, and that he had attempted on a Person, whose loss had so soon follow'd his pernicious practi­ces. He sixt himself after the manner of the ancient Romans to seek for her Body, to render his last Duties to those Relicks which he ador'd; and following his way, he made the most exact perqui­sition after it that could be ima­gin'd.

When he was got at Roan, he learnt, that not long since five or six dead Bodies had been taken up in the Downs, and particularly that of a Woman, who doubtless was a Person of Quality, by those Jewels which had been sound in the solds of her Cloathes. That News accomplish'd his despair; he did intreat of the Commander that he might take her up again to make a Funeral worthy of her; and his Love inspiring him with Thoughts full of distraction, did retain him long in a place [Page 125]which was so grievious to him, so that he had much to do to get from it to return home.

Madmoiselle of St. Hubert pre­sently perceiv'd that there was something more than absence in his Mind, and his Tears having made her to hit on the right cause, she made loud Complaints, which oblig'd Chanlieu to come and take his share, in the cruel destiny of a Person that was so dear to them all.

The Knight in the midst of so many Condolances, believ'd that he should better and with more pa­tience bear with his sorrow in such places where he had never seen his charming Mistress, and the King sending then some suc­cour to the Duke of Savoy, against the Inhabitants of the Vallies, whom he accus'd to have given protection to his Fugitive Sub­jects, he was of the number of those Officers that were Com­manded [Page 126]for that Expedition: His departure was no longer accom­panied with those troubles which are caus'd by separation from a Mistress; he had then such as were much more grievous to bear, and the sweet hopes to see again what one loves had no place in his Breast. He at every moment re­presented to himself Madamoiselle of Chanlieu dead and buried, and the satisfaction of that remem­brance did but increase his for­row. In that conflict of Thoughts, there happen'd one very surpri­sing, which was that he believ'd, in going to make his Campaign the Ghost of that illustrious Per­son would reproach his Conduct, and would blame him for having made War against Persons that were of her Religion.

That consideration did stay him in the Province of Dauphine; be­sides he being not over much prepossest with the Opinions of [Page 127]the Catholicks, he found that they acted with too much ri­gour against innocent Persons, which were charged with imagi­nary Crimes. That Languidness which he had contracted, furnish­ing him with means to feign an Indisposition, he obtain'd to be transported to Grenoble to recover his Health; where having not found the Air conformable to his melancholy humour, he afterwards chose Marfeilles, the Governour of which place he particularly knew; and finding that Sea-port to his mind, he resolv'd to reside there.

His particular delight was the walk on the Key, where at every hour there are seen Ships come in loaded with Curiosities. Besides, he impos'd it as a Law to him­self, to frequently reproach the Sea of her unjustice, and to ask it an account of the Murther [Page 128]which it had committed; he never did see any strange Vessels come in, but he inform'd himself of the Road they had come, and that which they design'd to keep, and preferring that Diversion to all those which others would have procur'd him, he would stay in the Citadel no longer time than needed, not to appear ridiculous.

The Governour, who thought himself oblig'd to Divert him, omitted nothing to that purpose, wherefore he made Matches in consideration of him. And the pleasure which the Knight took to be on Ship-board, having obli­ged the Governour to invite him one day at Dinner on one of the largest that was in the Harbour; he was interrupted by an Officer, who gave him notice, that one of the Visitors had found some Protestant Subjects on a Dutch Vessel, which the Storm had forc'd in. That news was unpleasing [Page 129]to him, but the Orders of the Court being very precise on that account, he order'd that they should be presently brought to him: But how great was St. Hu­bert's surprise at their coming! he thought he saw amongst them Madmoiselle of Chanlieu; and taking for a fantasm, what doubt­less was a real Body, he fancied himself to be in an Inchanted Island, or that at least this Ad­venture was nothing but a Dream. His Heart was in a continual throbbing, and in that uncer­tainty of his good fortune, he knew not what Party to take. His Eyes were so wild, and his Thoughts so confus'd, that he scarce knew himself; yet he found himself no longer liable to mi­stakes; his Love had taught him the difference there was be­twixt her and all the rest of the World, and the Viscountess could no longer make him mistake. [Page 130]He drew near to the Gover­nour, who knew all his Con­cerns, to offer to him his doubt, at that very moment that he was throughly inform'd by a look full of Reproaches: He presently run to ask her pardon for his tardi­ness, and having inform'd her of the Reasons, he continu'd to ex­press to her a joy full of tran­sports.

The presence of so many Per­sons could not but be troublesome to two reviv'd Lovers. The Governour left them alone, to taste with less constraint the ef­fects of a faithful and tender Pas­sion; during some time they ex­press'd themselves, but with a si­lence, in which they confounded their looks: They a thousand times interrupted one another with Que­stions; St. Hubert cast himself at her Feet, as to return her thanks that he found her alive again, af­ter he had no longer doubted of [Page 131]her Death. He would ask her, whether it was really her self, or whether it was her shadow only that was come to comfort him for her loss; he anew did cara­cterise to her the most tender parts of his Love; and having much to do to express himself in so happy a juncture, he gave her time to make this following Relation.

You know, Knight, to what condi­tion our separation did reduce me, and how troubled my Soul was at our parting, I felt it yet more sen­sibly than I express'd it; and if I had not flatter'd my self of seeing you again one day, perhaps my en­terprize had fallen short, and I had gone no farther. Ah! Madamoi­selle, interrupted St. Hubert, that is too much for me, or rather it is sufficient to make me die for Love; I bless my Fate, added he, kissing most passionately her Hand, and I no longer doubt, after I have found you again, but that the Heavens will [Page 130] [...] [Page 131] [...] [Page 132]remove all obstacles which are op­pos'd to my entire felicity. Then re­turning to examine, whether there was not some illusion in what that day had produc'd of such a mira­cuious nature, he shew'd by his Actions a flame most pure and most violent. Happen what will, he would say again with passion, after I have believ'd you dead, Love has preserv'd my Life, but to live happy for the future, and my bliss is to be envied. He had gone on in his Transports, if she had not let him know, that she would end her Narrative while they were alone, and that his Love was for a time to give place to his attention.

I had some fore-knowledge of my misfortune, continued she, by cer­tain Circumstances which preceded it, and which began to make me find the difference of the two Ele­ments: Those Fisher-men to whom you had intrusted me, did not appear to [Page 133]me made like other Men; they had in their looks something of roughness, which made me to fear some ill design; neither did they fail of improving the occasion which had been offer'd them, and their terrible barbarous nature inclining them to cast us into the Sea, it was a miracle that they were satis­fy'd with our Money only, with threat­nings to kill us, or to deliver us into the Inquisitors hands. I had by chance caus'd my Jewels to be sew'd up in the folds of my Cloaths, which I had made the Maid that serv'd me to put on, and which by that means were sav'd from the plunder. These Pirates having put us on board the Passage-boat, I felt some inconveniences, which, join'd to my sorrow, took almost all manner of knowledge from me: The Sea, and the agitation of the Waves having made me suffer much, I was not in a condi­tion to observe what happen'd after. I only remember, that after I had heard great shrieks and outcries, I fell into a deep Swoon, which hindred [Page 134]me from seeing that evil which hap­pen'd to us: I at last found my self in a little Bed, serv'd by a Man who was not unknown to me; and casting about my wild looks, I had not the power to ask neither where I was, nor what they design'd to do with me; I call'd however five or six times for my Wo­man; and I recover'd again from a languishment, which made me find more sorrow in Life than in Death.

He who had taken care of me, came then and cast himself on his knees near my Bed, and ask'd me a thousand Pardons, in a manner worthy of pity and compassion; he protested to me, that if the Heavens had not given him strength in saving me out of the Sea, to preserve a Life which he thought he had taken from me, that he never had dar'd to appear before me; and that if Repentance deserv'd that what was past should be forgotten, there never had been one more sin­cere than his, nor follow'd with greater remorses.

This confession made me think there was some mistake, and that I my self was deceiv'd, in taking the Person who spoke to me for St. Sau­veur; I made him to expound him­self again, and so soon as he had in­form'd me of the secret of his Action, I let him know that I was not in a Condition to owe any ill will to any body; that I hop'd in a short time to be rid of these evils which overcame me, and that without any consideration to those Services which he had lately render'd me, I did freely forgive him.

At that moment another faint­ness took me, which troubled him: Mean time the Storm still continu'd, and we had got the fourth Day to the heighth of Tangier; the fifth the Wind chang'd, and permitted us to pass the Streights, to go Land in Spain in the nearest Harbour. Our Ship, which was bound for Lon­don, finding it self in the Mediter­ranian Sea, resolv'd to go to Ge­noua [Page 136] to take in some Goods on the account of the Merchants; but the Sea, which seem'd to oppose it self to all our Designs, kept us shut up at Valencia during three whole Months: There I suffer'd all that could be imagin'd; and if that St. Sauveur had not continued his Cares towards me, I believe that I had not escap'd the Waves, but to die presently after on Land. He found out a Maid to serve me, and gave Money to the Captain of the Vessel to lend me, not daring to offer me any himself. It was then that he related to me all that his Enterprize had made him to suffer, and that thinking himself un­worthy to live, he was resolv'd to go to Carolina, there to pass his Life like a true Hermit; that in that design he had took Shipping for England, but that the Packet-boat having stricken against their Vessel in the Road, it had been broke to pieces, the Storm not permitting so much as to save the Crew: That I [Page 137]had happily fasten'd my self to a Plank, which the Waves had cast on their Deck, and so had preserv'd me from an unavoidable danger; he added, that mov'd with Compassion, he himself had carried me into a Cabbin, near to two Dutch Women, whom he intreated to take care of me, and to put me into a Bed, af­ter which he came to know me a­gain, when he was bringing some Cordials to comfort me; that he had long doubted of the reality of this Adventure, and that he never was fully convinc'd of the Truth till he had heard me speak. At this Recital he shed Tears, which mov'd me, whatever I could say, that this last Action did sufficiently repair all that a too violent Passion had formerly inspir'd him with to my dis­advantage; his Melancholy increas'd, by which he contracted such a sor­row, which kill'd him in few days.

I confess to you, that I was affli­cted at it, and that he had at least [Page 138]the satisfaction in dying, to perceive the sorrow which his loss caus'd in me: We being in a Country, whence he could draw no Consolation but from himself, I thought it necessary for me to see him, and I dare say that he was overjoy'd in those last Moments, to hear me pray to God for him; he had oblig'd me to look after his Money, with which he had presented me in the time of necessity, which I accepted not, but on condi­tions to return it to his nearest Re­lations. Thus did I see expire a Per­son, who had given me different oc­casions of Love and Hatred to­wards him. I was so accustom'd after that Death to suffer whatever Fortune prepar'd for me of good or evil, that I look'd without the least concern on the wrong which she thought to have made me, in casting us from the Coast of Italy, whence we were not far, into this Harbour, which appears to me safe, through the pleasure which I receive [Page 139]to find you here, and to see you again with the same generous Sen­timents of which you had given me such fair Proofs.

St. Hubert, impatient in his turn, to give her an account of his sufferings, and of those troubles he had endur'd, related to her all his Travels, and omitted nothing of what could give her strong Ideas of his passion; he then found that at Roan he had taken the Maid for the Mistriss, and that it had been an hard piece of business not to have been deceived; besides those Cloaths which he had met with at the Jewry at Amsterdam, and all the other Circumstances, did but too much confirm him in his be­lief; so that he lookt as a Miracle on the return of a Person, who according to all appearance had been swallow'd up by the Sea, he would have given her new Testi­monies of his Love, when the Governour came in, and express'd [Page 140]the share he had in their mutual joy.

He bid them afterwards con­sider what measures to take, before he gave advice at Court of her seisure; that it was of great im­portance to take them very exact, and then leaving his friend Master of his fair Prisoner, with the means to see one another, he diminish'd by that generous act all that could remain in them of sorrow and vex­ation. According to all appearance there was but little remedy to be found to wholly free themselves from troubles, and had she not resolv'd to dispute of Religion with him, at that time he intended to speak of nothing but of Love, per­adventure that she had never seen an end of her miseries.

She was perfectly instructed in the Roman, as well as in her own, and the Knight being accustomed to hear her frequently decide di­vers Controverted points, he began [Page 141]to receive that which proceeded from her delicate mouth as O­racles, and at last was of Opinion, that in spight of his Director he might enter into a particular exa­mination of his Belief. That hard usage against the poor Protestants had already given him some Ideas of their Innocence, and of the In­justice of their Cause, he a-new consulted his own Conscience, and pierc'd by those Instructions that were given him, he believ'd that without allowance to his Love, he ought to be of the Religion of that Person whom he so tenderly lov'd.

Madmoiselle of Chanlieu had never yet felt such a pure joy, as that which this Conversation af­forded her; her heart was so pleas'd at it, that she scarce could manage its motions, she let him know that it was by that way only, that he had made an end of Conquering her, and that in time she should give him the strongest and most [Page 142]solid assurances of it; mean time, secrecy was to Conduct a business of that importance, and this happy Change was to remain sacred for all the rest of the World. The Major was perswaded that Mad­moiselle of Chanlieu had resolv'd in Marrying of St. Hubert to wed his Religion also; by that means he had the pleasure to give to his advice what colour he pleas'd; and an answer to it being come by the next Post but one, he gave them no longer time but to advertise Mad­moiselle of Chanlieu, and Monsieur of St. Hubert of the rest of their Adventures, and of their Marriage, which was perform'd very secretly. Their departure troubled him, being sorry to part with so good Com­pany, he gave them some marks of his trouble by his Civilities, they also express'd the Obligations they had to him; and that amiable Company took the way into their own Province; they were no [Page 143]sooner got thither, but they thought of conveying a geat deal of means out of the Kingdom, and after what manner they should retire. They chose a trusty Gentleman to make a Voyage into Switzerland, to se whether that Road would be more safe than the others; he was at Geneva, where he sojurned two days with a Friend, where having receiv'd full Intelligence on his Journey, he return'd to give an account of his Commission: That passage appearing dangerous, St. Hubert had a fancy which he thought very seasible. The Dra­goons were still in the Piedmont, where they were making an attempt to destroy the Inhabitants of the Vallies: Though his duty did no longer call him to it, he lost no time, but got thither, to gain a passage out that way. He had a­gree'd with Chanlieu, who had Mar­ried his Sister, that to secure more of their means, he should remain [Page 144]some time longer in France; that he should give out that St. Hubert was not so long absent, but to seek after his Wife who had stoln away from him. That he should change his Name, and by that means he should give him secret advices of all his Affairs.

This Resolution being taken, he convey'd part of his Means into Holland, where he had friends, and being got to Turin, with a great Equipage, he went to the Camp, whence he return'd to see his Wife at the appointed meeting place; they pass'd through the Milanese, and took the great Road into Ger­many, and from thence the Road to London, where one may remain as incognito as in Paris.