TWO Persons of Quality in Picardy, being at va­riance about some Lands, plung'd themselves over head and ears in Law; and for a long while persecuted one another. They were near Relations, and of the same Family; both bearing the [Page 2] same Name, and the same Arms. Their Dispute was about the sha­ring of an Estate, and of such great Consequence, as tended to one or the other's ruin. As they were eminent in their Province, their mutual friends made it their business to procure a Reconciliati­on, and for that purpose propos'd a Match. They had no more Chil­dren than one Son and one Daugh­ter; and these friends having made them understand, that the means of removing all their differences, was to marry them together, they ac­cordingly resolved so to do. The Son was not unhandsome, but whymsical in his humour: and as the advantages of the mind are to be preferr'd to those of the body, he was not in the best Repute ima­ginable in his Neighbourhood. The Daughter was agreeable, and pro­mised much. She was yet so green in years, as not to know the mean­ing of an Husband. Thus when [Page 3] they talk'd of marrying her, she seem'd indifferent; but when she knew it to be to her Cousin, she was extreamly afflicted. She told a woman that had had care of her Education, that better would it have been for her, that her Father had been cast in his Law-suit. The woman made her answer, that she wondered to hear her talk in that manner, and that there was nothing to be found fault with in the Per­son that was proposed to her. As a Dispensation was necessary in this case, they sent to the Court of Rome; and while the Messenger was on his journey, the Marquiss de Florange, so was her Suiter's Name, made love to her. He had lived almost altogether in his Coun­trey; insomuch that his Deport­ment could not wipe out the dis­advantageous Impression she had entertained of him. On the con­trary, the more she saw him, the less she esteemed him; in him find­ing [Page 4] many bad, and few good Qua­lities.

From that time she did nought but weep, foreseeing all the mis­fortunes wherewith she was threat­ned. At last, the Dispensation be­ing come, she could not decline marrying him: but he enamoured her never the more after he was her Husband, than he had done when he was her Gallant.

In a little while after the Wed­ding, a great Estate fell to Florange: and this enabled him to spend at an high rate. His Wife studying to distance him, told him then, that we liv'd now in a Reign wherein Martial Men were only valued, and that though the bare thoughts of his absence troubled her extreamly, yet could she not but advise him to take upon him some Military Employ: That their Lands lying in the pas­sage of the Forces, the means to preserve them, was to do as Persons of Quality did: That she had [Page 5] heard, how that in the time of his Ancestors a Soldier did not ap­proach 'em but with respect; and should be overjoyed he might a­gain have the same influence.

The Marquiss de Florange was of a Family that had produc'd brave men; but the Valour of his Ancestors had not reach'd his Per­son; insomuch that he had been but one single Campaign in the Army: Nay, and he returned thence two months before the rest, as in no wise delighting in that Pro­fession. Thus finding little satisfa­ction in his Wives Discourse, he re­ply'd, that her contrivance lay to get him out of the way; but be­sides the Concerns of his Family, that wedded him to his own house, he was in no wise enclined to give her that satisfaction.

The Marchioness was picqu'd by his answer; and as this his carriage spoke his little regard for her, she told him, that it was long since she [Page 6] had begun to take notice of his ill humour; but that it was not fitting he should cloak his Capriciousness with a Pretext that did an injury to others. And she happened to mut­ter him out a Coward: and as no­thing is so offensive as truth, the Marquiss fell into an extraordinary rage; and they proceeded to give one another hard words.

Some days after, Florange being obliged to go thence to Paris, upon a Process of Consequence, was at a plunge, whether he should take his Wife along, or leave her at home. He began to be jealous of her, yet without cause; for as yet she saw no body that either had a design upon her, or on whom she could be accus'd of having any. But whether that Florange had a secret foreknowledg of his misfortune, or that really he in her found some in­clination to Gallantry, ordered one of his Domesticks before his de­parture, to have an eye upon her [Page 7] actions. This Domestick was a middle-aged man, and seemed ve­ry discreet. He had been in the Wars in his Youth, where he had learnt to live; but this was all the profit he had made by them; for having been reform'd upon the Py­renaean Peace, and being destitute of maintenance, he was forced to accept of the first Employ that was proposed to him; and the Mar­quiss de Florange's Father having offered him his house, he accord­ingly listed himself in his Family, as his Gentleman of the Horse, and to have an eye upon his Son, who was then very young. The Con­dition was mean for such a man as he; but necessity made him pass o­ver all things. Yet though his For­tune was low, his heart was not the less: and indeed he had never lo­ved other than women of Quality, and from the time he first saw the Marchioness, he found he was not proof against her Charms. How­ever, [Page 8] Respect kept him silent. But the Marquiss his Commission begin­ning to sooth him, he fancied some Change might happen in his For­tune, and that he might insinuate himself into the Marchioness's good Opinion, he imparted the Order to her he had received from her Hus­band; and assured her that he was more at her Devotion than at any bodies in the world. The Marchi­oness was surprized at this Dis­course, yet not so much for the knowledg it gave her of her Hus­band's Jealousie, as for this mans good will. For as he had been a long while with the Marquess de Florange, and his Father, she could not apprehend how he so lightly quitted their Interests, to embrace those of a person he but lately knew. After that this thought had possessed her for sometime, instead of guessing at what thus byassed Grand Champ, so was the Name of this Domestck, she imagined that [Page 9] he had perceiv'd her innocence, and had only offered her his service out of compassion.

In the mean while, if her Hus­band had not seemed over-amiable to her before this, she then thought him altogether horrible, and at his return from Paris, she had all the pain imaginable to endure him. He came back at length towards the end of Summer, which was very bad that year, by reason of the con­tinual Rains. The succeeding Au­tumn was still more unpleasant, in­somuch that all the People of Qua­lity in the Countrey, seeing the bad weather, talk'd of repairing into the Cities. The greater part went to Paris; but the Marquis did not think it convenient to carry his Wife thither, he thinking her of too Mo­dish an humour. He knew the Husbands were not in safety there; especially those that are not over­amiable, and have very lovely Wives. The Marchioness expected [Page 10] to spend the Winter in that Town, he having promised she should in the beginning of the Summer; but seeing he changed his mind, this still help'd to make her hate him the more. Nevertheless, as he him­self did not over-much delight in a Countrey-house, he resolv'd to go into some small City, where the in­fluence was not so maligne for mar­ried people as it might be at Paris. His Estate lay about Soissons; and this was the place he chose in which to recreate himself during the bad wea­ther. This Town is so pretty, insomuch that the Marchioness lov'd it how­ever better than her Village. No sooner were they got thither, but that the Kings Army in Flanders had Orders to separate, and march a­way to their Winter-Quarters. Ma­ny Officers in their Road to Paris, passed through Soissons, and one a­mong the rest, of an extraordinary merit, and of a very eminent Qua­lity; his Regiment had encamped [Page 11] the year a-fore near the Walls of the Town, with five or six others, that had staid there for fifteen days, in­somuch that he had spent that time in making his Court to a Citizen's Wife; and he came purposely to see her again, she having not used him severely.

After he had seen her, knowing Florange to be at Soissons with his Lady, he paid him a Visit. They had made acquaintance at Paris two years before, but had never seen the Marchioness, though he had heard her highly extolled. He found her Fame was still short of her Beauty and Merit, insomuch that he could not forbear telling Florange what he thought of his Choice. The Mar­quiss; though of a temper to be ea­sily jealous, was not alarm'd at the praises he conferr'd upon his Wife, as knowing Courtiers to be prodigal of them.

The Marchioness, on her side, liked the Colonel extreamly, and [Page 12] was as much charm'd with his good Meen as his Reputation; for he had perform'd Actions in War that had made him very conspicuous.

The Marquiss de Florange asked him what brought him to Soissons, because that was not the direct way to go to Court; and as young peo­ple have commonly more Vanity than Discretion, the Marquiss de Mainville, so was this Officer called, own'd ingenuously the love he had for the Citizen's Wife, and that she was the cause of his little journey. After this secret, Florange did not wonder to see him stay some time in the City, and the more because that people began already to talk of his Intrigue. As soon as the Rumour of it came to the Marchionesses ears, she perceiv'd her self vex'd at the Choice he had made, as if she had already interessed her self in him. She must needs see the Woman that had made so fine a Conquest; but she saw her not, save with the Eyes [Page 13] of a Rival; for though she was passably beautiful, she found her al­together unworthy of the thoughts of a man of Honour. Mainville knew not what passed in his favour in the Marchionesses bosome; but without penetrating into her senti­ments, he had such for her, as came very near those she had for him. He found her infinitely lovely, and her Husband, on the contrary, seem'd to him unworthy of possessing her.

He had been told, that he was the most jealous of all men, inso­much that he pitied her, being fall­en into the hands of a Person, who so little knew how to relish the happiness he had in possessing so beauteous a Woman. However, though this thought possessed him wholly, he endeavoured to conceal it as much as he could from all the World, for fear of creating Suspici­ons in the Marquess de Florange's Breast, who after that, would not [Page 14] fail of forbidding him to come to his house, or of carrying his Wife back into the Countrey. Thus he resolved to use so much Mystery in his Love, that no body should have the least inckling of it, save the Marchioness, bounding all his cares to tell her in private what she had kindled in his heart. Thus he for nothing reckon'd the constraint he lived in, being well enough satisfi­ed, provided he gave no jealousie to her Husband. He hoped hereby to render himself agreeable to the Marchioness, as knowing that Wo­men, above all things, prize Dis­cretion. But the Sympathy they had entertained for one another at their first enterview, had already produc'd so much effect upon her, that there was no need of this ad­dition of Civility, to insinuate him into her good Opinion. And in­deed whatever her Vertue could dictate to her, to stifle certain agree­able motions she was sensible of in [Page 15] her self, upon thinking on him, she could not overcome them. Thus she perceiv'd, that if she meant to preserve her Innocence, she must distance her self from a place where she could not stay, without running the risque of being ruin'd. But much ado had she to come to this Resolution, because nothing is so difficult to reject, as agreeable thoughts; but considering it to be the only means to ward off the affli­ctions with which she was threat­ned, she desired the Marquis de Florange, that he would go to his Countrey-house; if not, that he would suffer her to go thither with­out him.

He ask'd her, what could be the cause of so great a change; and her answer was, that the Air of the Town injur'd her, and that that of the Countrey would be much better for her. Yet as she looked well, he thought this to be only a Pretext, and was not over-hasty to grant her [Page 16] her request. Besides, he himself hated, as I have said, the Coun­trey, insomuch, that for fear of be­ing oblig'd of returning thither, he desir'd the Marquis de Mainville to prevail with her to spend the Winter at Soissons, telling him, that she would ever contribute towards his Diversion, in case he made any stay in that Town. Mainville, who had hitherto in vain waited for an occasion to speak to the Marchio­ness in private, was over joy'd at this which Fortune sent him. He went at the same time into her Chamber, and surpriz'd her ex­treamly by his manner of coming thither; for he was quite out of countenance, and as a man newly labouring under some great trou­ble. She ask'd him, what put him upon coming to see her, he that had not been to see her since he came to Town: and this obliging reproach affording him matter of entring in­to Discourse, he made her answer, [Page 17] that it would be easie for him to sa­tisfie her upon that point, if she would take the trouble of hearing him. Thereupon he acquainted her how passionately he had lov'd her from the first moment he saw her; but that having perceiv'd the jea­lous humour of her Husband, he had kept that strict hand upon him­self, that he believ'd neither he nor she had taken notice of his Passion. That Florange sent him thither to discourse her upon business; but being unable to live any longer without knowing after what man­ner she would receive the offers of his service, he took that time to ask her, whether she would render him unhappy, that he had blaz'd about his design to lye upon another; but that the person he had pretended to love, serv'd only for a Cover to his real inclinations, since he was un­capable of loving any other than her.

Mainville's Discourse seem'd to be extreamly grateful to the Mar­chioness, since she was as fervently lov'd by him as she lov'd him; ne­vertheless she fell a weeping, as if he had inform'd her of the Death of all her Friends. So extraordi­nary a procedure put Mainville in­to an extraordinary surprize. He ask'd her, why she griev'd so very much; but the more he pressed her to answer him, the more her grief seemed to augment. He then fell to eying her from head to foot, fearing she was not over-wise. This thought had been capable of cu­ring him; but the Marchioness breaking silence, told him, he would not wonder at her tears af­ter what she had to acquaint him withal: That she lov'd him as much at least as he could love her; and that this her weakness made her fear­ful: That her Design was to main­tain her Vertue; but that it was difficult to answer for it, when one [Page 19] had such an inclination for a person, as she had for him. She then in­form'd him of the request she had made to her Husband, of carrying her back to their Countrey-house, that she might have the means of shunning his sight; and Mainville knew well enough that she spoke the truth, since he himself was en­charg'd to divert her from her Reso­lution.

As it is natural to flatter ones self, Mainville, instead of being alarm'd at her Vertue, thought only to thank her for her kind thoughts of him; but the Marchioness inter­rupting him in the midst of his Dis­course, told him roundly, that he was not yet got where he imagined, and that the more she was sensible of her weakness, the more efforts she was going to use never to see him again. It is easie to imagine, that he attempted to inspire her with other Sentiments, and exerci­sed his utmost Wit for that purpose; [Page 20] but the Marchioness was a Woman of Courage, insomuch that after having left him, she sent for Grand-Champ, to desire a great service of him. That he had great Credit in her Husbands good Opinion, and wish'd he would employ it so, in obtaining his permission for her to return into the Countrey. Grand-Champ was surprised at this Dis­course, as knowing the aversion the Marchioness had for a solitary life. Thus his answer was, that she thought not on what she said; and turning her Discourse into Railery, he assured her he should ever be so careful of her content, as not to procure her a thing as would so much accrue to her dissatisfaction. Then was the Marchioness oblig'd to put on her most serious looks, to let him know that she spoke in good earnest; and at length she did so thorowly represent to him, that it would be the doing her a kindness, that he promised her to do all he [Page 21] could with Florange, to content her in her desires. The Marchioness in discoursing Grand-Champ, was as free in her speech with him, as she might be with a man whose Conver­sation could not be of any Conse­quence, insomuch that she chanc'd to say, that she should be as happy with him in a Village, as if she was in the best City in the world. This man did not want a good Opinion of himself, insomuch, that inter­preting these words at the foot of the Letter, he thought he was hap­pier than he had imagin'd. He had ever cloak'd his Love with the appearances of Civility and Re­spect; he then imagin'd, that with­out being too vain, he might give it less narrow bounds. Thus he re­solv'd on the first occasion, to be­moan himself for the Sentiments he had so long entertained for her, not doubting but that the success would be answerable to his hopes.

The Marchioness did from day to day wait for her Husband's an­swer, when Grand-Champ, to cut off what was least necessary, told her, that he found it difficult to ob­tain what she desired; but that he would not desist however. In the space between the Marchionesses re­quest, and Grand-Champ's answer, she saw the Marquiss de Mainville again; and his Visits did not help to cure her of her Passion. On the contrary, she became so sensible, that she was afraid, that if these In­terviews lasted any long time, she should have much a do at length to reject his persecutions; for he was too urging. Wherefore she told Grand-Champ, that she had a secret to trust him withal, but that being of the utmost moment to her, to confide it only in the hands of a man, on whose discretion she might relie; she would have him first swear, that he would never speak of it to any body. Grand-Champ was [Page 23] pre-possessed, as I have said, with a great Opinion of himself; and this discourse fully perswading him of his good fortune, he made a thou­sand Oaths of Fidelity to the Mar­chioness, to induce her to declare her secret to him. She thereupon told him, that though it was not handsome for a Lady to own her weakness, she could not however conceal it any longer, without ren­dring it remediless. That she had an inconceivable confusion for it; but that he ought rather to pity than blame her; and so much the more, as that she used her utmost endea­vours, as that she might have no­thing to reproach her self withal: That she was going to unbosom to him, to the very secret motions of her heart, that it would be for him to condemn her after this, if he found her culpable.

Hitherto the Marchioness had said nothing but what entertained Grand-Champ in his foolish hopes; [Page 24] but when she had declar'd to him the Passion she had for Mainville, and that he had for her, he was, for all the world, in as great confu­sion, as if he had been caught in do­ing some ill action. How Madam, cry'd he, after some moments of si­lence, You love the Marquiss de Mainville! the Marquess de Mainvil­le, who is over head and ears in love with a Citizen's Wife, and who out of Courtship to her, has abandon'd the Care of his Fortune? Yes, I love him, the Marchioness reply'd faintly, and my desiring to distance my self from hence, is only for that I am afraid of loving him too much. Many Women in my place, would perhaps contrive the means of seeing him on all occasi­ons; but for my part, I mean to a­void him, because he has a secret Charm, against which I cannot de­fend my self. Ah Madam! Grand-Champ reply'd, to whom all these words were as so many stabs into his heart; seek an other Confident [Page 25] than me; I find not my self proper to render you the service you require of me, and I should deceive you if I had promised you. At these words he went his way, all transported with anger, without vouchsafing to hear her farther. The Marchioness did what she could to detain him, be­ing very willing to clear all his scru­ples; but she took her time ill, since the rage he was in to see himself fal­len from his hopes, put him into an inconceivable Despair.

As he had manifested a great deal of Passion in the reproaches he had made her, it was no difficult mat­ter for the Marchioness to know, that he was Mainville's Rival. She call'd to mind a world of actions that Love had made him commit, which she had not minded be­fore; but which then confirm'd her in the thought she had of him, in­somuch that she was extreamly vex­ed that she had made him her Con­fident. However, as there was now [Page 26] no Remedy, she fell to contriving how to appease him, and fancied she might do it, had he any reason left. For she represented to her self, that not being Mistress of her own heart, he ought to be satisfied with the efforts she made to stifle her Pas­sion, and with the Resolution she had taken to withdraw into the Countrey. Said she likewise to her self, that if he lov'd her, he would help her to obtain her Husband's leave for that purpose, which she passionately desired, so to root out a Love, which all agreeable as it was, yet made her labour under great ap­prehensions.

While she was expecting this from Grand-Champ's jealousie, Mainville being allarm'd at the instances she made to Florange, that she might leave the City, did slily inculcate suspicions in the mind of that cre­dulous Husband; sometimes telling him, after a drolling manner, that his Wife was in love with some or [Page 27] other in his Neighbourhood. But Florange, who far from being tra­ctable upon that matter, was sus­ceptible of the least thing, concei­ved such disadvantageous impressi­ons of her Conduct, that when she spoke to him again, of returning to their Countrey-house, he not only deny'd her, but did it after such a disobliging manner, that she was netled to the very heart. At first she had recourse to her fears; but Grief having made room for Re­sentment, it came into her head, to revenge her self that way he most apprehended. For some time she found a certain pleasure in enter­taining her self, with this thought; but her Vertue having got the as­cendant, she blusht for having been capable of conceiving a thing to her so disadvantageous.

In a few days after, Grand Champ entred her Room with a wild, staring look, and such as suited very much with the state of his Soul. He told [Page 28] her, that he came to take his leave of her, and that he had at that time such concerns upon his hands, as oblig'd him to be gone. His Complements surpris'd the Marchioness. She en­deavoured to divert him from his Resolution, rightly guessing at the occasion; but he made her answer, that he could not stay any longer in a place where he should have dai­ly before his Eyes, a Rack a thou­sand times more cruel than Death it self. That after what she had told him, as he knew the effects of Love, he did not doubt but that the passi­on she had for the Marquis de Main­ville, would rather augment than di­minish; that he foresaw strange Con­sequences, not that he suspected her of being ever wanting to her Ver­tue, but out of the knowledge he had of her Husband's jealous hu­mour, who would be over joy'd to find a Pretext to use her ill.

Thus did Grand-Champ, under fine appearances, conceal the real [Page 29] Cause of his discontent: for it was only Jealousie that induc'd him to desire to be gone. In the mean while he put a thousand fears into the Marchionesses head, by the mis­fortunes with which he threatned her: and if the love she had for Mainville, had not already been ve­ry violent, his Discourse had been capable of clearing her heart of it intirely. She could have wish'd it had been in her power so to have done. And indeed that she might have a person to sustain her stagger­ing Vertue, she conjur'd Grand-Champ not to abandon her in her present Condition, promising him to do all things imaginable to over­come her weakness. You'l see, said she to him, that the love I have for Mainville, is not an effect of my in­clination; and that one's Star may be rectify'd, when it would hurry us into the precipice against our wills. And indeed to what use would our rea­son be, if we cannot put it in practice [Page 30] when we have need of it? and with­out this, what difference would there be between Men and Beasts?

Grand-Champ was so troubled, that he could hardly understand one bare word of what the Marchi­oness said; but seeing she press'd him a new to give her answer: What would ye have me tell you, Madam, he reply'd to her, and will you force me, willy nilly, to own my Crime t' ye? I am as culpable as un­fortunate; I know what I am, and what you are; and the knowledge I have of both, has not hindred me from loving you. I adore you, since I must needs tell you so, and you adore the Marquis de Mainville. After this, the only course for me, is to di­stance my self from hence; and tho you should pardon me the excess of my temerity, I could not pardon my self for it, and for having dar'd to love you, without being capable of exciting the same flames in you as you have ex­cited in me. An other inspires you [Page 31] with those agreeable movements, which I would make you sensible of at the cost of my life. Thus it is no longer pleasant to me, since I have nothing more to hope. At these words he would have gone his ways, without staying for an answer; but the Marchioness re-calling him, made him turn his Head against his will; and he observ'd an inconceivable grief in her face. What would ye have of me, Madam, he then re­torted, with an air wherein Love and Despair did equally appear? Would ye have me suffer here all that is most cruel for man to suffer? That I see every day before me the most love­ly Lady living, without daring to lift up my Eyes to her: Thus I contem­plate the love I have for the Marquis de Mainville, and that insensible to the one or other, I lead out the most languishing life in the world: No, Madam, you ought not to oblige me to this: you your self would be a lo­ser, in suffering such a Wretch as I [Page 32] am, to dare to tell you, that he loves you; and though you could bear with it, yet it would not ease me; I should have ever before my Eyes the Marquis de Mainville's happiness; and perhaps that believing my self as worthy of being belov'd as he, notwithstanding the difference there is between our For­tune, I should tell you things as might displease you. It is better for me all at once to distance my self from the most amiable person breathing; and though it cost me my Life, Death will be more pleasant to me than a sight that will make me die every moment. At these words he would again have been going, but the Marchioness holding him by the arm, told him, that if he was minded to oblige her, he would still stay with her Hus­band: That she bore him not so much ill will for his temerity, as she might have done at an other time, because she her self knew the power of Love. That as to the rest, she was willing to forget all things, pro­vided [Page 33] he promis'd her never to speak to her of his Passion. That Reason must govern him, as she pro­mis'd him to let it govern her her self: That she would have him to be a Witness of the efforts she was go­ing to make, to drive Mainville out of her heart; and that if she could not effect that, he would, at least, be with her to mind her of her Vertue.

In fine, as it is impossible to re­sist what one loves, Grand-Champ could not decline obeying the Mar­chioness, and continued to stay with Florange. Nevertheless if she had so much indulgence for him, it was not without very powerful reasons. She consider'd, that the excess of his Dispair might prompt him to re­veal her secret, and that it would be better for her to constrain her self, than be expos'd to the anger of a Lover, who had just occasion to complain. On the other side, as her design was to be vertuous, she [Page 34] imagin'd that Grand-Champ's pre­sence would be capable of keeping her in, and that narrowly watching her actions, she should be asham'd after what she had told him, of ma­nifesting any Weakness.

Thus while she was studying all possible means for her security, Mainville omitted nothing of what might give a happy success to his Love. He from time to time found the means of discoursing the Mar­chioness; and his Conversation ru­in'd that Ladies Projects. She dai­ly discover'd some new Quality in him, as render'd the Vice less hide­ous to her, insomuch that she was no longer so very desirous to return in­to the Countrey.

Florange, all jealous as he was, perceiv'd nothing as yet; but the Citizen's Wife, whom Mainville had courted before, finding him more faint than ordinary, examin'd the Cause of it, and was not long without detecting it. Her Rage, [Page 35] upon this, was extream; and she was upon the point of letting her jealousie break out, without consi­dering she should injure her self as much as the Marchioness. How­ever, still fearing to be deceiv'd, she would have new Proofs of her Lover's Infidelity, before she pro­ceeded to Reproaches against him, and to Invectives against her Ri­val.

This Citt, though not of Quali­ty, did nevertheless make some Fi­gure in the Town, as being very rich, and passably handsome. She was one in all the Merry-meetings of that place; and the season of the Carnival then requiring people to be in Disguise, as is the Custom, Flo­range desir'd her to make one in a Masquerade, which Mainville, and his Wife were to be of. And that they might be the finer, they sent for Cloaths from Paris, six for Men, and six for Women. They were all alike, and suited well enough with [Page 36] an Entry. They meant to dance at the Wedding of a very pretty Maid, that was to be very suddenly marri­ed. That Day being accordingly come, they procur'd the admiration of all the Company, who were not wont to see people that danc'd so well as did Mainville and the Mar­chioness de Florange. After they had danc'd, these Lovers plac'd themselves by one another, and Mainville, on whom the Citt had her Eyes fixt, having caress'd the Marchioness a little too much, it is difficult to express her vexation on that account. Being transported with anger, she went instantly to make a thousand Reproaches to that perfidious man; but having met in the way a female friend of hers, that stopp'd her, she neither found Main­ville, nor the Marchioness, who had left their places to take others. She endeavour'd to find them out in the Crowd, and the Resemblance of Cloaths deceiving her, she said to [Page 37] Florange, whom she took for Main­ville, You betray me, Marquis, but Ile be reveng'd on Madam de Florange, though I were to die a moment after Florange knew the Citts voice again, and her Discourse making an im­pression upon his Mind, that was but too susceptible of jealousie, he made way into the Crowd, without giving her one word of answer. The Ci­tizen's Wife's Rage was inconceiva­ble in this occasion; She imagin'd her self absolutely flighted, by the manner of his leaving her, and wish'd she could extinguish her pas­sion in a moment; but not being able to effect that, she turn'd all her thoughts to revenge.

In the mean while Mainville and the Marchioness being ignorant of what pass'd, did in a Corner enjoy one another's Conversation, with­out dreaming, that love was prepa­ring them any trouble. Florange sought 'em over all, and finding them stept aside, he perceiv'd his [Page 38] Fury to re-double. He had open'd his Mouth to ask them what they did there; but considering that the Bussle he might make, would retort upon himself, he made semblance of being ill, that he might have a pre­tence to go home. When he was come to his house, he bid his Wife prepare to leave Soissons on the mor­row morning. She ask'd him the reason; but without vouchsafing to specifie any thing, he contented him­self with letting her know, that he was not satisfy'd with her Conduct. She did not close her Eyes all the Night long, making however less reflection on Florange's anger, than on Mainville's cruel separation, she beginning to love him more than her own Life. She lay contriving the means to bid him adieu; but not knowing how to do that, she resol­ved to write to him as soon as it was day. In effect, she was already thinking of having Pen and Paper, when a new Disquiet did utterly [Page 39] confound her Repose. She knew not with whom to trust her Letter, and thereby plainly saw, that it would be to no purpose for her to write. The day being come, she began to slumber, when her Hus­band told her, that for a person that was to take a journey, it became her not to sleep so late. Whereupon he made her get out of Bed; after which he went into her Closet, and took thence her Ink and Paper, say­ing, that he must rifle her of her Courtship, and deprive her of the means of letting her Lover hear from her.

The Marchioness look'd upon him then after a scornful manner, with­out making him any reply; but she lost all her firmness when she was to take Coach; then did she revolve Mainville's Despondency in her Mind, when he came to know of her Departure; and her Lover's Affli­ction affected her more than her own Grief. However, as Love becomes [Page 40] the stronger by persecution, she quickly perceiv'd that she lov'd him more than she had ever yet lov'd a­ny body. After she was come to their Countrey house, her Husband suspecting that she would not rest so contented, if the Love she had for Mainville was in any wise strong, he left her neither Ink nor Paper, be­sides forbidding his people to give her any, though she ask'd for it.

While all this pass'd in this manner, Mainville dreaming of nothing less than of what had happen'd, sent a How d' ye to Florange's Lodgings. The man he had encharg'd with this Message being return'd thence, and having brought him back word, that he was gone that morning with his Wife, to return to his own house, surpriz'd him extreamly. He would believe nothing of it at first, but it having been confirm'd to him from another hand, he presently judg'd, that so sudden a departure was the effect of Florange's Jealousie. He [Page 41] likewise fancy'd, that there was on­ly himself in the Town that he could six it upon. Thus he rejected his first thoughts, which suggested to him to run after his Mistress. Then seeing that it would be to no pur­pose for him to stay any longer at Soissons, he resolv'd to be gone to Paris, whence he had a design to send a man on purpose to the Mar­chioness. As he was just ready to take Horse, the Citizen's Wife came to his Lodgings, all transported with Fury; for she had newly been told, that he was just a going, without so much as bidding her farewell. She upbraided him with what she had done for him, and his little acknow­ledgment for all, and forgot not to speak of what had pass'd the Even­ing before, accusing him of being the most ungrateful of all men, in not vouchsafing so much as to take the pains to undeceive her. Main­ville being surpriz'd at this reproach, which he did not think he had in­curr'd, [Page 42] caus'd the thing to be ex­plain'd to him at length; and seeing that the Citt's mistake had occasi­on'd Florange's Jealousie, he made her no great reparation for his Cold­ness; and on the contrary, treated her with sufficient Contempt. Af­ter having dismiss'd her, he departed the Town, on the Road thinking only of the Marchioness, who on her side was only taken up with his re­membrance. For without otherwise minding her Husband's rigours, who treated her with sufficient indignity, and who had her watch'd by five or six persons, to whom he had not been asham'd to discover his Weakness; she wish'd for nothing else than to know what was become of Main­ville. Thus all her thoughts only tending that way, she took a Reso­lution difficult to form, but which was a strong Proof of her Love. For forgetting all the allarms she had had by having confided her secret in Grand-Champ, she conceiv'd a design [Page 43] to make use of him to be the Go­between of her and Mainville, and to let him hear from her. She knew not however what course to take to exact this Service from him, after what she had said to him; for she dreaded his Reproaches. At length Love being stronger in her than any other Consideration, she conjur'd him, with Tears in her Eyes, to free her out of pain, and carry a Letter to her Lover. You love me, Grand-Champ, said she to him, and I shall be glad to know it in this Occasion. You'l make me die of Grief, if you re­fuse me: whereas you'l restore me to Life by doing me this Service. It will cost me mine, Madam, answer'd Grand-Champ immediately, and you have the cruelty, to desire that I should die the most cruel Death imaginable. But no matter, since this must oblige you, it is for me to obey you without reply.

After she had thus got his consent, she ask'd him for Paper and Ink; which he was oblig'd to furnish her [Page 44] withal accordingly. When she had writ her Letter, she gave it him, begging him to make dispatch, that so Mainville might receive it before he arriv'd at Paris, whither she sus­pected him to be going. Grand-Champ, all pierc'd with Grief, took it from her hands, and pretending some business, that he might get Florange's leave, he mounted on Horse-back, and overtook Main­ville half way. Mainville, whom the Marchioness had made the Con­fident of Grand-Champ's Love, trem­bled at her rashness in trusting him with a matter of this consequence; but at the same time admiring the fi­delity of this Domestick, he would needs embrace him, and speak the sence he had of so generous an acti­on. But Grand-Champ retiring two steps back, to avoid his Caresses, told him, that far from assuring him, that he was his Servant, he would franck­ly tell him, that there was not a man in the World, that he hated more [Page 45] than him; that he was well enough acquainted with the reason; and that if he had stoop'd so far as to de­liver him a Letter from the Marchi­oness, he thought him possess'd of so much delicacy, as not to confound the Character of a passionate Lover, with that of an Unfortunate Rival: That he might judge of his Love by the instance he had newly giv'n of it, and the more this Love was violent, the more the effects of it were to be feared.

Mainville took no notice that he heard his Menaces: and indeed far from shewing any resentment, he did what he could to gain so generous a man, offering him a World of fine things, as of advancing him in War, and serving him with all his Credit. But all these Promises did not work upon Grand-Champ, to do any thing that was low, maintaining his gene­rosity to the last. After this Main­ville made answer to the Marchio­ness, and put his Letter into the [Page 47] hands of this Domestick. She had sent him Word in hers, of what had been the Occasion of her Departure, and how out of the desire she had to see him again, she would rather feign some illness, that she might go to the Waters of Bourbon. She was overjoy'd to hear, that Mainville would on his side be there; for so he assur'd her by his Letter, inso­much that she only discours'd Grand-Champ of her impatience till the season of the Waters was come. The time betwixt this and that, said she to him, will last me a thousand years, and out of the fondness I am under, of seeing him again, there will not be a day but will seem longer than whole years to me. I own that hopes will in some manner ease my pain; but whatever Blessing I expect from so dear a sight, I shall purchase it dear­ly by the uneasinesses I am going to be under, for fear he should fail his Word. Grand-Champ, continu'd she, May not the King march to his [Page 46] Conquests in the time of Waters, and dost thou think that Mainville can dis­pence himself from following him? Honour is a thing very nice in the Soul of a Man of Quality, and I am undone, if Mainville prefers it before his Love.

Grand-Champ hearken'd to all this with a Countenance wherein Despair and Rage seem'd to tri­umph over his Passion. Nay, and sometimes was he just ready to load her with Reproaches, if by a re­turn very usual with Lovers, he had not been more afraid of vex­ing her than of any thing else. However being no longer able to stay in the presence of a Woman that set him a raving mad, he went his ways without saying a word to her. But she was so possess'd with her Reflexions, that she did not so much as take notice of what was be­come of him.

When it was at length the season of drinking the Waters, she ask'd [Page 48] her Husband leave to go thither, and he could not hansomely refuse her, because she had pretended to be sick, having besides slily engag'd the Physicians to say that she stood in need of them for her recove­ry. Nevertheless Florange being resolv'd not to leave her one step, made semblance on his side, that the Waters would be good for him, and went along with her. The Marchionesses spite was extraordi­nary in this Occasion, and if she had durst, she had let it fly out to strange Extremities. She then fell to thinking how to break off this Journey; but making reflexion, that so doing would but too clear­ly manifest her Intrigue, she re­solv'd to advertise Mainville of what occur'd, that he might take his measures for his seeing her on the Road.

Grand-Champ was again encharg'd to carry him this News; and having accordingly done it with the same [Page 49] fidelity he had exerted the time be­fore, Mainville took Horse for Mon­targis, and stay'd in the best Inn, where the Marchioness had writ him word she was to lodg. Neverthe­less he had no other Train than a Valet de Chambre; and for the obvi­ating all suspicion, in case he staid there any time, he pretended to be sick, that he might at freedom wait the Marchionesses coming. Two days after, she arriv'd there with her Husband; and no sooner was she alighted, but that she gave Grand-Champ order to acquaint Mainville, that she was desirous to see him. Mainville told Grand-Champ, that could not be till after her Husband was gone to Bed; and as the Marchioness did not lie with him, they would have all sort of leisure of conversing together. When Grand-Champ had giv'n this account to the Marchioness, Ah my God! cry'd she, That's impossible: How see me by Night? That's seek­ing [Page 50] his own ruin, and the ruining of my self. What would Florange say if he came to know it? and would there after that be any mercy for me? What say you, Grand-Champ? give me good advice in this matter. Grand-Champ, being enrag'd at what he did, and what he was still oblig'd to hear, answer'd not a word; but seeing that she press'd him to tell her his Opinion; How, Madam, he reply'd to her, Ought you not to be satisfy'd with what I here do, but you must needs constrain me to discourse you upon a thing of this nature? And to what purpose would it be for me to disswade you from seeing the Marquis de Main­ville, since you will not follow my advice? Why will I not follow it, the Marchioness answer'd; and should I not be glad, that you would let me see that it was impossible to af­ford him this satisfaction. No, Ma­dam, it is not impossible, reply'd Grand-Champ, since that you doubt [Page 51] of it, and you will infallibly see him in your Chamber, since you only deli­berate to know whether the thing be feasible or not. I thought you would have declin'd it out of fear of wound­ing your honour; but the happy Mar­quis triumphs over your Scruples. You at first told me, you meant to shun him, with such a World of Precau­tion; and now you are no longer a­fraid of singling him out to a private Rendezvouze. Ah, Grand-Champ, you are mistaken, the Marchioness answer'd, and if he comes into my Chamber, I mean not, that you shall go one step from me, that so you your self may be a Witness, that nothing shall there pass, but what's honest; and that though I be wanting to Decency, I at least am not wanting to Virtue. No, 'tis you that are mistaken, Madam, cry'd Grand-Champ, if you believe you can be wanting to Decorum, with­out being wanting to Virtue; for there is such a connexion between them two, that a person can no longer be said to [Page 52] be innocent, when she has once fail'd in her Conduct, It is for you to make reflexion thereupon; and if it proves my misfortune, that my Remonstran­ces will nothing avail, you need only say what you desire of me: I will still bring, if you order me, this happy Lo­ver, into your very Chamber; but do not oblige me to be present at a Conversation that would make me mad.

As soon as Grand-Champ had made her these offers, she took him at his Word, conjuring him to pay her this Service. She no longer in­sisted for him to be present in the Room with Mainville; and this Circumstance cast him into the ut­most Despondency; for he fram'd such things in his imagination as she did not in the least dream of; and which his Jealousie nevertheless made him think to be real. The Marchionesses Chamber was at the end of a Gallery; and there was a kind of Anti-chamber, where Grand-Champ [Page 53] had Orders to lye. The Marquis de Florange having com­manded him to watch his Wife's Conduct so narrowly, as that he might be able to give an exact ac­count of it. Thus it lay in his pow­er to let in whom he pleas'd; and the excess of his love requiring him to pay this Service to his Rival, he introduc'd him into the Marchio­nesses Chamber, and shut the door upon them. While Mainville was there, an Adventure happen'd in the Inn, that made them both more than a little uneasie. One of the Ser­vants being in Love with the Maid, and fancying he had perceiv'd some Bowels of kindness in her towards him, he stole softly into her Cham­ber, and made her start out of her sleep. This Wench being honest, beyond what is ordinary in those of her stamp, being to the highest de­gree surpriz'd at his insolence, gave then a great Scream, which put all the house into allarum. The Mar­quis [Page 54] de Florange awak'd at this noise, as well as the rest, and having heard how the case stood, he was heard to cry out aloud, kill him, kill him. For he had a natural aversion for all those that endeavour'd to debauch other mens Wives; fearing, that if he appear'd indulgent upon the Ar­ticle, it might give some Gallant the Boldness to sparkle it to his. His Voice immediately struck Mainvil­le's and the Marchionesses Ears; and Mainville thinking it was him he meant, drew his Sword at the same time, telling the Marchioness, that it would not be so easie a matter as was imagin'd, to take away his Life. At these Words he broke out of her Arms, that grasp'd him ten­derly, as if she meant to bid him a last farewell, and rushing out of the Chamber, he ran towards the place where he heard Florange a talking. When he was got to the end of the Gallery, he perceiv'd him in his Night-Gown, by the Light of a [Page 55] Candle, which a Lacquey held be­fore him. This Lackquey no soon­er saw Mainville's Sword glitter, but that he let fall the Candle out of fear, at the same time giving a dis­mal Schriek. Florange, for his part made haste into his Chamber, ha­ving likewise perceiv'd the Sword; insomuch that Mainville finding no body to dispute the passage with him, he entred his own Room, with­out Florange's being able to say, who had put him to so great a fright.

In the mean while the Marchio­ness being under a most doleful dis­quiet for what would happen to Mainville, went out into the Galle­ry to listen; but coming to know, that the noise that had been made in the Inn, had been occasion'd by the Man and Maids Adventure; and hearing no talk of her Lover, she dispers'd her fears. After this Grand-Champ advis'd her to go to Bed, that if her Husband should by chance come into her Chamber, he might [Page 56] not ask why she had sate up so late. Hardly was she undrefs'd, but that Florange, who had had time to call all his People to his succours, came, and knock'd at her Door, with such a noise, that a body would have said, he meant to break it open. Grand-Champ went and open'd it; and the first thing Florange ask'd him, was, if a man did not go out of his Chamber with his Sword in his hand. He made him answer, that no body could go out there, since the Door had been always shut, and that if he had not heard his Voice, he would not have open'd it. After this, Florange knock'd at his Wife's Chamber-door; and there she made him wait for some time, to make him believe that she was in a deep sleep. At last she made sem­blance of awaking her Woman, that was a Confident of her Intrigue, and who had been present all the while Mainville staid with her. Florange tax'd 'em both with their sleeping so [Page 57] fast, after they had assur'd him, they heard not the least of all the noise that had been made in the Inn.

As soon as Florange had left his Wife, he made reflexion upon the Vision he had had of the Sword, and relying upon what Grand-Champ had said to him, he fancy'd the man to have come out of some of the next Chambers to that of the Marchioness. Thus all was appeas'd in the Inn; after which all fell asleep again, as if nothing had happen'd. There was only Mainville, the Mar­chioness, and Grand-Champ, that could not be of those that tasted of Rest; for their Amour furnish'd them with sufficient matter of anxi­ety. As for Grand-Champ, it is ea­sie to judge he was over-whelm'd with grief, and that he could not think of his cruel Destiny, without believing himself the most unfortu­nate of all men. As to Mainville and the Marchioness, though they [Page 58] ought to be so satisfy'd, being sure of one anothers Love, yet they had great cause of vexation. They had hop'd to have enjoy'd one anothers Company for a whole Night toge­ther, and an unhappy Adventure of a Man and a Maid, had disappoint­ed their hopes. Besides, they knew not when they might see one another again; for as they had not had the leisure to take their measures toge­ther, Mainville was upon the point of returning to the Army, and the danger he was going to run, did extraordinarily allarum his Mi­stress.

The Day being come, Florange and his Wife continued their way; and being arriv'd at Bourbon, they took the Waters, of which they had no great need. But as it is not the same thing with those Waters, as with the Water of the Seine, which one may drink of, without fear of injuring ones self, they spoil'd their Stomacks, either that they had al­ready [Page 59] a Disposition thereunto, or that God thought fitting to punish them for feigning to be sick. Their Indisposition began with a great In­digestion, which at first hinder'd them from sleeping, and a Fever coming thereupon, it was fear'd this Malady might have ill Consequen­ces. Thus for prevention, they had recourse to the most able Physici­ans; but they exhausted their whole Knowledg, without giving any ease to their Patients. This occasion'd their Friends to begin to despair of their Health. The Marquis de Main­ville was then at the Army, whither he went after the adventure of Mon­turgis. The Marchioness, thinking her self at the Extremity, signify'd to him the state she was in; and he had no sooner learnt this ill News, but that he resolv'd to go see her, let what would come on't. There was no room for his desiring leave. The King granted none: Wherefore he pretended himself sick, that he might [Page 60] have a pretence to be carry'd into a Neighbouring Town. As soon as he was there arriv'd, he won the heart of his Landlord, and of a Physician, and prevail'd with them to give out, that he was in great danger; insomuch, that when any one came to pay him a Visit, they said, he was not to be seen, by rea­son of the Violence of his Distem­per. His Servants had also Order to remain bare-headed in his Room, and when any Persons came to en­quire after his Health, they made them answer softly at the Door, as if they had been afraid of disturbing his Head. In the mean while Main­ville having taken his measures thus well, went away Post in the dusk of the Evening, and repair'd to Pa­ris, where the Marchioness de Flo­range was sick. He saw her by Grand Champ's means, and found her in better Health than he expect­ed. For her Distemper, when just upon the point of tumbling her in­to [Page 61] her Grave, was diminish'd all on the sudden; and but that her looks spoke her to have been ill, a man would hardly have believ'd it, so well was she recover'd. The Mar­chionesses joy was great, to see so signal an instance of her Lover's Passion. She embrac'd him with an extraordinary tenderness, and by in­satiable Caresses, testify'd she could never sufficiently express her ac­knowledgment.

Mainville, who was as foolish as are all people that are in Love, was charm'd with her affection, and neg­lected his Duty; insomuch that he was now but little afraid of his Cheat coming to be detected. Thus giving all his Thoughts, and all his Cares to his Mistress, his contrivance lay only how to be daily with her; in which he found nevertheless some difficulty, because that Grand-Champ was to depart that very Evening, to go into Picardy, whither he was sent by Florange. Nevertheless, to [Page 62] return after having seen her but once, was a thing he could not re­solve on, finding he had hazarded too much to have such scanty satisfa­ction. In fine, after having one while listen'd to his Reason, which adviz'd him to return to the Army, and another while his Passion, that thwarted those Intentions, this lat­ter got the Ascendant, and he stu­dy'd the means of getting to speak, at least once again with his Mistress, For that purpose he dress'd himself up as a Physician, and under that Habit he had free admittance into her Chamber, without needing any body to introduce him. Though that his Features were too deeply engrav'd in the Marchionesses mind, for her to mistake him, yet the sur­prise of that Lady was extream, when he took her by the Arm, to feel her Pulse. She immediately dimiss'd all the Servants out of the Room, except her Woman, whom she did not suspect. Then giving [Page 63] Mainville a strong Reprimand, for exposing himself and her too to such a danger, she forbid him to venture so again, telling him, that he ought; at least, to advertise her of his Disguise, to prevent her first surprise. Mainville excus'd himself the best he could, rejecting all up­on his Love, and upon his not ha­ving known that Grand-Champ was to be gone till after he had left her. After this Conversation, they be­gan an other, extreamly tender; and as they were going to engage deeply into amorous softnesses, the Marchionesses usual Physician came in, who was strangely surpriz'd to find an other Physician at the sick Beauties Beds-head. His Cheeks glow'd for meer anger, thinking that he was slighted. He ask'd Mainville, by whose Order he came thither, he whom he did not know to be of the Faculty of Paris. Mainville was strangely non plus'd at his Question, seeing how furi­ous [Page 64] he was upon the matter: But making a Vertue of Necessity, he reply'd, that he went no where without being sent for: That though he was not of the Faculty of Paris, yet he was not the less expert; and that the Physicians of Montpelier did in nothing come short of all the Physicians of the Kingdom.

There is a certain Antipathy be­tween the Physicians of Paris, and those of Montpelier, insomuch that this Discourse still augmented the usual Physician's Resentment. He took fire at the same time, and after having discharg'd his Choler against this new Doctor, he told the Mar­chioness, that since she put so much Confidence in an ignorant Fellow, she might make use of him, and that it was the last time he would visit her. Nevertheless, upon his going away, he went to Florange's Chamber, where his heart being full of what had befallen him, he com­plain'd [Page 65] of the Affront that was done him. Florange was still ve­ry sick, being nothing so near his recovery as his Wife was to hers. For he had still daily Transports in his Brain, that made him rave; but being the most jealous of all men, he immediately distrusted the Montplier Physician, and to see if he was not mistaken, he at the same time took his Night-Gown, and went into his Wives Chamber. On the way he told the Doctor, that it was for his sake that he took this pains, as being willing to conceal his Jealousie. The Doctor was so transported with Anger, that he made not any effort to hinder him; and though he knew well enough in his mind, that stirring out of his Bed did not befit his present Circum­stances, yet he was over-joy'd that he had this satisfaction given him. He'l be your Death, said he to him as they went along, if you make use of him. He is but a meer Quack, [Page 66] and that you'l presently perceive by his Meen. As he entertain'd him with such like Discourses, to animate him the more, they entred the Marchio­nesses Chamber; and Florange's sur­prise was extraordinary, when he found that the Physician of Mont­pelier, and the Marquis de Main­ville, were but one and the same thing. How, cry'd he at the same time, the Marquis de Mainville is turn'd Doctor! How can that be, and since when is this Metamorpho­sis? I must be reveng'd, and offer up to my resentment a Friend that ruines me, and triumphs over my Honour. At this Name of Mainville, which was universally known, the true Physician remain'd as much con­founded as Florange: for he then plainly saw he had committed a great mistake, in discovering what but for him had been conceal'd. He trembled for fear, knowing how dangerous it was to incur the Indignation of a man of that Con­sequence, [Page 67] Wherefore he would have given all he had to have re­triev'd the Blunder he had made.

On the other side, Mainville and his Mistress were no less afraid than the Doctor; but Love, which was the first cause of this Disorder, since it was it that had induc'd Mainville to put himself into a Disguise, sug­gested a thing to Mainville, that freed them both out of perplexity. He began to seize upon the Marquis de Florange, crying, that his Fren­zy took him; and that if they did not carry him back to Bed, it was capable of being his Death. He at the same time trode upon the Physi­cian's Foot; and he understanding what this meant, joyn'd with him to make the poor Florange believe, that he was very ill. Good Lord! what a furious transport, cry'd the Doctor at the same time, to take a Physician for a Marquis, and to sus­pect him also of attempting upon his Honour. My Lord, you must drink [Page 68] a refreshing Ptisanne, or else you are a lost man. Florange was terribly enrag'd at this Discourse, as not over-well knowing whether he rav'd or not. However, the two Physicians, his Wife, and her Wo­man, ceas'd not dragging of him into his own Room, and putting him to Bed again in spight of his teeth. Then had he a real Phren­zy, holding a thousand extrava­gant Discourses. The Physician of Montpelier took that time to bid the Company farewel; and the Marchioness saw him depart with less regret; judging, that af­ter what had happen'd, it would be putting him into too evident a danger, and her self too for to de­tain him.

When Mainville was gone away, he went to his House who writes the Gazet; where in consideration of some money, he had inserted, that he was extream sick in the Town where he was thought to be, [Page 69] and that there was no longer any hopes of his Life. From thence he went to Florange's Physician, to whom he said, that he pardon'd him for having hamper'd him in so unlucky a business, provided he would maintain to the very last, what he had so well began. He thereupon acquainted him with what he had newly done, that so he might disabuse Florange, if he continued to affirm, that he was paulm'd upon by his Wife. He told him, that the Gazet was to be vended the next day throughout the City, and that this fell out ve­ry pat for their purpose. After this, he went his ways for the Ar­my, where there was not the least suspicion of all the Pranks he came from playing. Florange's Fit went away, having lasted full Fourteen Hours. He sent for a Kinsman of his Wives, to whom he made his Complaints upon what had befallen him the Evening before, telling [Page 70] him, that he could not keep her after this. This man, who by chance, had read the Gazet in the morning, and knew besides that Florange had raved all the Night, imagin'd at his hearing him talk of Mainville, that he was still in his raving Fit. Thus without answering to his Discourse, he told him, that he was only to be fed with good Broths, that so he might be brought to his right Senses, and his Head setled. But Florange bursting out into anger; My Head, said he to him, is too sick ever to be setled; and I wonder that you, who are my Relation, as well as Madam de Florange's, would make me believe, that I am a Visionary fellow. You are so in truth, if there ever was one, this Kinsman answer'd, to conceive a jealousie of a man, who at this hour is not perhaps alive. Mainville has been sick a long time, and the state he is in, does with a Vengeance hinder him from thinking [Page 71] of [...] Wife. Take my Word, Cou­ [...], if you mean to fall out with her, use at least a more probable pretext than this; for you'l have no body on your side, as long as you have this only to say against her. Thereupon the wonted Physician entred, who had provided himself with a Gazet; and Florange go­ing to take him for Witness, that he affirm'd nothing but what was true, had the confusion to see him­self still accus'd of raving. You think not of what you say, My Lord, said this Physician to him; 'tis the Remains of your Distemper that make you talk in this manner: The Marquis de Mainville lies at the utmost extremity; and if he dies, it will be a great loss to his Fa­mily. Thereupon he took the Ga­zet out of his Pocket, and read a­loud the Article concerning this Marquis. After this he highly ex­toll'd his Noble Actions; adding, that he might have push'd on his [Page 72] Fortune much farther, but [...] hasty a Death. Florange's con [...] ­on was great, after reading of the Gazet. He began to believe, that the violence of his Malady was the occasion of his Suspicions; and af­ter having more and more confirm'd himself in this Opinion, because that his Kinsman, and the Phy­sician, still continued to tell him the same thing, at length he was so well perswaded, that he ask d the former pardon for the Com­plaints he had made to him.

The Marchioness had been thi­therto under extraordinary fear; but being inform'd by her Physici­an, that her Husband began to re­pent of his having tax'd her, she quickly dismiss'd her apprehensi­ons. The rest of the Summer was spent without furnishing her with any other Adventure; and her Husband being quite out of dan­ger, she went along with him to their Countrey-house. About the [Page 73] beginning of Autumn they took a journey to our Lady of Liesse, in acknowledgment of their Recove­ry; and Devotion having spirited Mainville to go thither at his return from the Campaign, he accidental­ly met them as they were in the Church. Mainville made no scru­ple of accosting Florange, twit­ting him with his going from Sois­sons without bidding him adieu. Florange was in a rage, that he was oblig'd to suffer his Conversation: Thus he receiv'd him coldly: but Mainville having perceiv'd it, made as if he had urgent Business; inso­much that he himself freed him out of perplexity, by re-mounting on Horse back. By this means he had not time to discourse the Marchi­oness; but his eyes finding her more beauteous than ever, they explain'd to her in one moment all that he had to say to her. After he was gone, Florange re-calling all his I­dea's into his memory, took it ill, [Page 74] that he should meet 'em so pat at our Lady of Liesse. He imagin'd, that this could not fall out with­out his being advertiz'd; and in his heart he accus'd the Marchioness of it. After having perform'd his Devotions in that Church, he re­turn'd to his own home, and on the Road spoke not so much as one Word to his Wife; so spighted was he at this Adventure. When he was come thither, he entertain'd Grand-Champ with the Encounter he had had, and declar'd to him his Suspicions. Grand-Champ jump'd with him in his Opinion; but yet endeavour'd to undeceive him, that he might not expose the Marchio­ness to vexatious Reproaches. He was still over Head and Ears in Love with her; insomuch, that this Lady coming on her side to tell him, how Chance had brought Mainville and her to an Interview, when she least expected it. That was no hard matter, Madam, said [Page 75] he to her; and when one is of intel­ligence with chance, things still more surprizing happen out. The Marchi­oness being amaz'd at the freedom he took of making her Reproaches, told him after a disdainful manner, that it became indeed such a man as he to intermeddle in her con­cerns: That now she plainly per­ceiv'd her mistake, when she thought him an honest man; and that all Servants return'd sooner or later to their Character. It is impossible to express how dismally the amorous Grand-Champ was mortify'd with this word Servant. He had hither­to imagin'd he might one day come to touch the Marchioness, if she once came to make reflection of all he did for her: But losing all hopes after this last instance of her Con­tempt, he left her with his heart full of rage. No, she does not de­serve, said he to himself, the esteem of a worthy man: She's a meer Co­quet, that's won by a gaudy out­side; [Page 76] and I ought to indulge my Re­venge, unless I mean to pass for the most faint-hearted of all Lovers. I serve a Rival, to please him; I rack my self to death, as a body may say, to serve the man in the World I most hate; I espouse the interests of that ungrateful Woman, to make her Hus­band believe, that he has a Wife ex­tream discreet; yet for my reward she calls me Servant.—No, I cannot think on't without bursting into a Fury; and either I have no power o­ver my mind, or I shall quickly forget her.

As Grand-Champ was entertain­ing himself with this Discourse, and much other stuff of the like Na­ture, that express'd the excess of his Resentment, word was brought him, that a man enquir'd for him; and going to see who it was, it was found to be a Person from Main­ville.

This Marquis had made a stop at Villers-Cotterets, whence he had writ­ten [Page 77] to his Mistress. His Messenger having presented his Letter to Grand-Champ, besought him to make an answer as soon as possible to his Master. Grand-Champ re­turn'd a moment after, and told the Messenger, that Mainville might come about midnight, and that he should find the Park-door open: That the Marchioness had not had time to write to him; but that this was sufficient. This man made haste to return; and when half way, he met Mainville, who was so impatient to know if the Marchio­ness would accept of a Rendez­vouze, that he required of her by his Letter, that he was mounted on Horse-back, to avail himself of it the sooner. This Messenger gave him an account of what Grand-Champ had said to him; but at the same time adviz'd him to turn back, saying, that he seem'd to be in a strange Concern when he gave him his Answer; and that either he was [Page 78] mistaken, or that it was not safe to trust to his Word. Mainville made a mock of his fear, and continued on his way. But this Messenger was not so much mistaken as Main­ville imagin'd. For indeed Grand-Champ finding that this occasion was favourable to revenge himself of the Marchionesses slights, had car­ry'd Mainville's Letter to Florange, in the first Heat of his Resentment, letting him by that see that his Sus­picions were not over-ill grounded. Nevertheless, he was cautious of telling him, that he was the Party that had carry'd on the Intrigues of these Lovers to the point it was at. Far from this, he made him believe, that this Letter was fallen by chance into his hands; and that he had no sooner seen what it con­tain'd, but that he had deliver'd it to him.

Florange being ascertain'd of his Dishonour, or at least, that he was robb'd of his Wife's Heart, did not [Page 79] hesitate one moment, as to being reveng'd. He, with Grand-Champ, resolv'd to surprize Mainville in his Wife's Chamber, and sacrifice them both to his Resentment. In the mean time Mainville still advanc'd, not in the least dreaming of what was brewing against him. He found the Park-door open, as Grand-Champ had sent him word, and slipping between a Palisade, he got to the House-door, which was half open. Grand-Champ, the better to make him fall into the Trap that was laid for him, had not only describ'd the House to the Messenger, but had likewise pro­mis'd to stand behind this last Door, whence he was to convey Mainville into the Marchionesses Room. He had likewise told this Lady, that Mainville was to come to her, that she might leave her Door open. Her eagerness to see him again, had made her fall into the Snare, with­out requiring other assurance than [Page 80] Grand-Champ's Word. When Main­ville was come to the House-door, he really found this Domestick, who conducted him as far as the Marchi­onesses Room, whose Door he found. Grand-Champ, after that, withdrew; but by a surprizing Re­collection, he, who only breath'd Revenge, since the Marchioness had treated him ill, found himself mov'd with Compassion, revolving in his mind the unhappy Condition to which she was going to be reduc'd. In short, his Love got the upper­hand in a moment. His Eyes were all bath'd in Tears, out of Grief for having been the Cause of so lovely a Person's Death; and in a word, if nothing was to do, but to give her the very last Drop of his Blood, to repair what he had done, he would willingly have gi­ven it.

In the mean while he was to give an Answer to Florange, who had planted himself behind a Pali­sade [Page 81] of Maple to see Mainville pass. This Husband had heard him as he slipt by between the Trees: Nay, and had seen him; in­somuch, that growing weary of staying any longer in that place, since it was time to come to slash­ing, he went his way, to know what detain'd Grand-Champ from coming to give him notice. He found this Unfortunate Domestick Twenty Paces from his Ambuscade; and having ask'd him, whether he had conducted Mainville above Stairs, he made answer, No; and that he must needs have fail'd the Assignation. Prethee, why that up­on me, reply'd Florange in anger; for I saw him pass by where I was. At these words he would have gone up into the Marchionesses Cham­ber; but Grand-Champ stopping him by the Arm, told him, that his going might cause him to miss his aim; that it was convenient for him to go up first, to see if Main­ville [Page 82] was there; that he would come and give him an account at the bottom of the Stairs; and that afterwards it would be for him not to lose the occasion of being re­veng'd. Florange, notwithstand­ing the greatness of the Offence, could not yet put off a certain I ear that was natural to him. Thus being willing that any other than himself should make the first Pa­ces, he comply'd with all Grand-Champ propos'd, and staid for him at the bottom of the Stairs. Grand-Champ seeing this, mounted above, without losing of time; and ha­ving caus'd the Door to be open'd, he extreamly surpriz'd these Lo­vers, when he told them all was ruin'd. Being seiz'd with Fear, they ask'd him what had fallen out: But Grand-Champ, more un­done than they, made answer, that it was not a time to hold long Discourses, and that Mainville must be gone at the very instant, if he [Page 83] meant to be alive a Quarter of an Hour after. That he would find Florange at the bottom of the Stair­case; and that to pass safely, he must counterfeit his Voice, and tell him, that now is the time for you to be reveng'd. That he could say nothing more to him at present, and that another time he would un­ravel this mystery unto him.

At these words he took Main­ville by the Arm, to shove him out, conjuring him to make his escape, and at the same time to save the Marchionesses Honour and Life. As this Discourse was too pressing to lose time in deliberation, he did not stand upon much entreaty: Down stole he as softly as he could, holding by the Rails, and finding Florange at the bottom, who stopp'd him, he whisper'd in his Ear what Grand-Champ had said to him. Florange heard those words distinctly, but did not know his Voice; insomuch, that think­ing [Page 84] to find Mainville above, he mounted hastily, breathing no­thing but Revenge. Mainville had left the Marchionesses Chamber-Door open, and Florange entring therein, with a Pistol in one Hand, and a Sword in the other, he sought for Mainville, as the first Victim he ought to offer up to his Resent­ment. He was much amaz'd to see only Grand-Champ, leaning against a Table, and the Marchioness on the other side, not having the power to support her self. Where am I, cry'd he at this sight, and what's become of Mainville? Speak Grand-Champ: did you not tell me he was here, and coming up after me, how came you to be in this Chamber? Grand Champ being prepar'd for all that Florange could say to him, and resolv'd to save the Marchionesses Life at the expence of his own, look'd upon him fixedly, and ad­dressing his Speech to him: Kill me, my Lord, said he to him, since [Page 85] I have deserved Death: I am the greatest Cheat of all men, in having falsely accus'd my Lady. I have made you conceive a false Opinion of her Vertue, by forging to you a Letter from Mainville, to induce you to use her ill: And what is still beyond all this, is, that Love is the occasion of all these Crimes. There is not any other man, save I, conti­nued he, that had any intentions to seduce her: And if I had brought them about, I should not have been so enrag'd, to undertake to make you shed a Blood that ought to be so dear to you. I now perceive my fault; and to punish me for it, you need only to pierce my Bosome. At the same time he presented himself be­fore him, offering himself to a vo­luntary Death: But Florange not being able to reconcile these Words with what had been told him at the bottom of the Stair-case; Do you kill me, said he to him, or free me out of pain, by acquainting me, how [Page 86] you came hither before me, and what is become of him that spoke to me before that I came up. No body can have spoke to you, reply'd Grand-Champ faintly; and through a pre­possession of your Passion, you imagin'd you heard what no body can have said to you. The sincere confession I have made t' ye of my fault, ought to convince you of it: for I would not expose my self to your Resentment for an other. It is I alone that am culpable; and Madam de Florange, and the Marquis de Mainville are in­nocent.

The Marchioness at first could not imagine the meaning of all this; but beginning to apprehend something, she broke silence, to complain of her Husband's Suspici­ons, as if he had really been migh­tily in the wrong, to doubt of her Vertue. So as that poor Florange being in Despondency at so extra­ordinary an Adventure, withdrew into his own Apartment, without [Page 87] having the power to take any Re­solution. After this Grand-Champ made the Marchioness a sincere Confession of his fault; and as he was penetrated with regret, he would in her presence have run himself through with his Sword; telling her, that he could no longer live, after having so mortally of­fended her. But the Marchioness leaping upon him, hinder'd him from executing his fatal Resoluti­on, and promis'd him never to call his Crime to mind. I shall have it in mind, Madam, answered he, all my life long; but now it shall not be so long, so as I may weary my self much in the World. At these words he went out of her Chamber after a desperate sort of manner, and without considering that it was Night, he took the first way he found, and did not stop till it was day. The Marquis de Mainville had taken exactly the same Road, and Fortune would have it, that [Page 88] they should both alight in the same Inn. Mainville had newly dis­patch'd away a man to Florange's Castle, to know what had occur'd there after his departure; but see­ing that Grand-Champ could inform him the best of any body, he de­sir'd him, that he would free him out of pain, and tell him all he did not know. Grand-Champ, to sa­tisfy his Curiosity, gave him a long account of the Marchionesses slight, and of the revenge he design'd up­on her: and continuing the rest of his Story, he acquainted him how when upon the point of sacrifi­cing them both, his Love for the Marchioness had sav'd them. Alas! then cry'd Mainville, I should ne­ver have suspected you of Treachery. On the contrary, I had so much con­fidence in you, that I have just now sent a Letter to you for the Marchio­ness. Ʋnhappy that I am; I have perhaps destroy'd your labour: You had set her Husband's mind to rights [Page 89] by your Address; or at least, you had left him in an uncertainty of his mis­fortune; and my imprudence has spoyl'd All.

Grand-Champ had told his Story after so unconcern'd a manner, that he seem'd now a Party indifferent; but hearing to what danger Main­ville had expos'd the Marchioness, he seem'd to recover new Senti­ments. You are really very unhap­py, said he to him, in causing so much trouble to a Lady, who would ever have been innocent, had she ne­ver known you. I ought neverthe­less to be glad, that she has occasion to complain of you, that so she may forget you: But as in this occasion her All is at stake, I shall here wait for the return of your man, that so if he has put your Letter into any other hands than hers, I may still render her a piece of Service. He had no sooner spoke these words, but in came that man, being a Peasant that Mainville had been forc'd to [Page 90] employ, as having none of his own Servants with him, to whom he could give this Commission. They ask'd him both at the same time, what was become of the Letter; and the Bumpkin answer'd them, that he had giv'n it to Grand-Champ. What sort of man is he, cry'd Mainville immediately, all in Despair at his mistake? He is tall, reply'd the Peasant, well made, and very neat. He then gave an ac­count of the Person to whom he had deliver'd his Letter; and Main­ville and Grand-Champ, knew plain­ly by his Pourtraict of him, that it was fall'n into Florange's Hands. Thereupon Grand-Champ entreat­ed Mainville to lend him his Horse; for he was come a-foot; telling him, that he was going to pay the Marchioness the last Service he should pay her as long as he liv'd. Mainville gave him his Horse; and Grand-Champ using dispatch, re­pair'd to the House of a Peasant of [Page 91] Florange's Village, and there wrote a Letter. He then encharg'd the Peasant with it, with order to put it into the Marchionesses own Hands, as a thing of the highest Consequence. This Peasant did dexterously acquit himself of his Commission; so as that the Mar­chioness was advertiz'd of the fault Mainville had committed, and to make timely Provision for her self.

She receiv'd this Advice just in the nick: for her Husband design­ing to convict her of her Intrigue from her own writing, had newly caus'd Mainville's Letter to be deli­ver'd to her under hand, not doubt­ing but that she would make an Answer to it. And indeed she had already Ink and Paper to do it, when that Grand-Champ's Letter made her change her stile. Instead of writing to Mainville, as she was going to do, she writ to her Husband; and leaving the Letter [Page 92] upon her Table, she went to find out Grand-Champ, whom she en­treated to accompany her to one of her Relations, whither she had a Design to withdraw. Grand Champ did not stick to grant her the Crup­per of his Horse, and convoy'd her till such time as that he had put her into a place of safety.

In the mean while Florange was as impatient to hear of his Wife's Commerce, as if it had been some good news he was to receive. Thus seeing that she delay'd her Answer too long, he sent her the Fellow he had caus'd to deliver Mainville's Letter to her, to inform her, that she was to make more haste. This man found her Chamber-door o­pen; and having seen upon the Ta­ble the Letter she had left there, he carry'd it to Florange, as thinking it to be the same he expected. Flo­range open'd it hastily. But what a wonderful amazement, when in­stead of what he expected to find [Page 93] therein, he met with a thousand Reproaches. She accus'd him a­mong other things, of having him­self contriv'd the Letter she had receiv'd from Mainville; and he could not convict her of the con­trary, because he knew not this Marquis his Hand. She also ac­quainted him whither she was gone, adding, that she would no longer live with a man that us'd her rather like a Tyrant than a Hus­band.

Though Florange knew himself innocent, and that far from being disabus'd of his Wife's Intrigue, he every day thought her more cri­minal, yet could he not hear of her Departure without grief. He suspected that she was gone to tax his Carriage, and that having no Proofs to convict her, her Com­plaints would prevail in the Minds of her Relations o're those he might make of her ill Conduct.

Thus seeing that he had taken his measures ill, he did not waver to go seek her out, and took Coach in that Design with his Wife's. Wo­man, whom he little suspected of being privy to her Concerns: For she was a Gossip, that under the Oloak of Devotion knew admira­bly well how to play her Part. He question'd her however on the Road, whether she knew any thing of the matters in agitation; But she affected a false Hypocrisy, meaning to perswade him of the Marchionesses Honesty: and that besides, she was not a Girl to be concern'd in an Intrigue. When they were Two Leagues from the place they came, a Horse of his lost his shooes, and they were fore'd to halt, to have him shoo'd again. Florange was also a little sickish, which oblig'd him to go into an Inn to drink a little Wine. While this pass'd, the Waiting-Gentlewoman, who had alighted [Page 95] out of the Coach, saw a Compa­ny of People flocking together at the end of the Village; and be­ing naturally curious, as all Wo­men commonly are, she went on that waywards, to inquire into the matter. When she was come thi­ther, she was told a thing some­what extraordinary; namely, that a man after having alighted at an Inn, had sent back his Horse four Leagues thence, to a person of whom he had borrow'd it; that afterwards he had put himself to Bed, pretending he was sick, and had sent for a Chyrurgeon, who had let him Blood; but that this Chyrurgeon was no sooner gone, but that he had himself unty'd his Arm; and that in short, he had shed so great a quantity of Blood, that there were no more hopes of his Life.

The Novelty of the thing re­doubled this Womans Curiosity; and so much the more, as know­ing [Page 96] that Grand-Champ had condu­cted her Lady upon the Crupper of Mainville's Horse, she had great Suspicions it might be him all this Discourse was of. Thus she re­solv'd herself to see whether she was not mistaken, that so she might afterwards give the Marchioness a faithful account. As soon as she had cast her eyes upon that Wretch, she really knew him to be the wretched Grand-Champ, who was in a very bad Condition. He on his side was not wanting to know her again immediately; and desi­ring the People to withdraw, as being to discourse her in private. I die, he said to her, the most con­tented of all men, since that For­tune, which hitherto had been against me, now favours me with your Com­pany, when that I least expected it, to be the Witness of my last Words. You may tell Madam de Florange, that I have my self advanc'd my Death, as after her slights not being [Page 97] able to survive. Perhaps that one day she will regret so faithful a Lo­ver. Be it as it will, I only wish her happiness. At these Words a Convulsion Fit seiz'd him; and the Damsel being willing that he should die in other Hands than hers, call'd for the People again into his Room; and while they were busy in con­templating this Unfortunate Lo­ver, she made away through the Crowd, without notice be­ing taken of what was become of her.

Florange's fainting Fit had kept all his Servants about him, and hinder'd them from knowing what pass'd, which their Ladies Woman was not sorry for, because that it was to be feared, that if Grand-Champ's Adventure had come to his Master's knowledg, he would have gone and discours'd him, and that Grand-Champ would have told him all, for the discharge of his Conscience. In fine, after that [Page 98] Florange had re-collected his Spi­rits, he took Coach again with her, and they came to the Place of the Marchionesses Retreat. Flo­range made great Complaints to their Kinsman, that his Wife went so away without saying a word to him: But the Kinsman being prepossess'd with what the Mar­chioness had told him in her Vin­dication, answer'd him, that being of such an Humour, he ought not to marry, since there was nothing that madded a Vertuous Woman more, than when her Husband doubted her Vertue. For my part, added he, I shall never advise her to return with you, at least, unless you express a mighty regret for what is pass'd. Florange seeing himself baffled in this manner, would have spoke of two Letters he had re­ceiv'd; but his Kinsman reply'd upon him, that if that was all he had to alledg against her, he might be gone as he came, and that all his [Page 99] own Relations would espouse the Defence of his Wife. Thus was Florange forc'd to ask his Wife's Pardon, though in his Soul he knew that the fault lay not at his door.

Madam de Florange having need of the Protection of this Relation in many things, and particularly in this occasion, wherein it was requi­site to justify her Conduct, of which it was impossible to hinder Dis­course in the World, after what had newly happen'd, did after this easily comply with the Counsel he gave her, of coming to a Recon­ciliation with her Husband. They staid the rest of the Day at his House, and all the next; and Flo­range being gone out for a moment, the Waiting-Gentlewoman took the time of his absence to entertain her Lady with the sad Adventure of the Unfortunate Grand-Champ. The Marchioness could not retain her Tears at so piteous a Relation, and [Page 100] joyning some Regrets to the Tears she had shed, she told her Woman, that he merited a better Fortune. This Discourse surpriz'd that Maid, as knowing how much she had de­spis'd him as long as he liv'd, inso­much that she could not hide her amazement from her. But the Mar­chioness interrupting her, accus'd her of having an ill Opinion of her, since that after all the Instances of Love thar Grand-Champ had given her, she could not, at least, with­out being the most ungrateful per­son in the World, hear that any ill was befallen him without being griev'd. This is a tardy gratitude, Madam, the Damsel then cry'd, and you would have oblig'd him much more, if you had shewn it while he was well. I have ever had a sence for him, reply'd the Mar­chioness, but could not then shew it without hampering my self in trou­bles. Mainville would have been jea­lous, and perhaps that thinking me [Page 101] in love with Grand-Champ, he would have sought out a Consolation for my inconstancy, in the choice of an other Mistress. That is to say, Madam, the Damsel answer'd, that you lov'd poor Grand-Champ, but did not love him so well as Mainville. How dis­sembling are Women! I thought you as nice as any person living in your Love: Nevertheless by what I per­ceive, you prefer Number before Deli­cacy. It is very seldom known that a Woman dare talk in such a man­ner to her Lady; but see what a Confident may do: and I fancy, that if this Maid had been less in­form'd of her Concerns, she would have been more cautious in her words. Be it as it will, Madam de Florange imagining she might suffer, should she leave her in these Sentiments, You mistake me in what I have said, answer'd she, and you grosly confound Love and Acknow­ledgment. There is nevertheless a great deal of difference between the [Page 102] One and the Other. The Motions of Love are tender and passionate Mo­tions, excited by Sympathy: whereas those of Gratitude are only ordinary Movements, that are wont to arise from some Benefit that one has re­ceiv'd. But, Madam, reply'd the Damsel, if those Motions which Gra­titude excites, are so common as you say, they ought not, methinks, to oc­casion the shedding of so many tears; and yet this is what you do. Tell me, I beseech you, how this comes to pass: for I fancy'd, that People affli­cted themselves in such manner on­ly when they were lively affected. This you are mistaken in, reply'd the Marchioness, as you were but a mo­ment agoe, when you confounded Gratitude and Love. A great grief never appears so much outwardly as does a mean one: and one would have a bad Opinion of the sensibility of a Person, that should shed tears at the newness of a great misfortune. One must remain seiz'd till that time di­minishing [Page 103] the strength of the grief, leaves to man his wonted Functions. Then it is that the Eyes distill them­selves into Water, as a mark of his Affliction. If I do not make my self well understood, added the Marchio­ness, I am going to give thee a very familiar Comparison: Thou know'st that Cold, when it is extream, clo­ses all things, and principally Rivers, whose course remains conceal'd by rea­son of the Ice that appears upon the Surface of the Waters. It is even the same thing with a great Grief in the Heart of Man. His Tears are stopt; and as the Current of Ri­vers only appears when the Cold is di­minish'd, so his Eyes only shed Tears when the Affliction is no longer so strong.

These are the Reasons the Mar­chioness gave her Woman, to make her apprehend, that she might be­wail: Grand-Champ's misfortunes, without loving him. Nevertheless, she bid her enquire after him, when [Page 104] that they pass'd by where she had left him. That she needed only to feign some need to alight out of the Coach, and that she might take that time to do what she bid her. The Morning being come, they all set forwards on their Jour­ney, and the Damsel having per­form'd her Commission, she was told, that Grand-Champ was dead but a moment before. She acquaint­ed her Lady with it when they were arriv'd; and these Tidings renew'd her grief.

During these Occurrences, the Marchioness had an Affliction which much more affected her than Grand-Champ's Death. Mainville remain'd Two Months without writing to her; and she did not doubt after such great marks of his forgetful­ness, but that he had got some new Mistress. She daily complain'd to her Woman of her misfortune, and of Mens Inconstancy. They are all ungrateful, said she to her, and the [Page 105] Ladies are fools for loving them. Their flames lact only just so long as they find satisfaction therein; and as fondness only encreases by desires, as soon as these desires are fulfill'd, these fondnesses quickly become little or nothing. They never see you af­terwards, but out of a luke-warm­ness: nay, nor would they see you at all, were they not afraid of being tax'd with ill-breeding. I leave thee to judge what a Lady can say after this; and if being wonted, as she is, to the Movements of a tender and a passionate Love, she rests satisfy'd with these Civility-Visits. Mainville, the ungrateful Mainville, continu'd she, is not exempt from these weak­nesses; and thou seest after all that I have done for him, what his ingrati­tude is.

Though Mainville paid the Dam­sel well for being in his Interests, she most commonly durst not take his part, finding her self, that he was mightily to blame in that he did [Page 106] not write to her. However, being unwilling utterly to abandon him, she endeavour'd to give her Lady still some hopes, telling her one while, that his Letters might mis­carry, another, that he was sick, and that otherwise she would have heard of him. But the Marchio­ness did not suffer her self to be so easily impos'd on: She knew that a Man of Mainville's Quality sent a Messenger on purpose, when Two Posts had fail'd him; and that let a Man be never so sick, he never forgets his Mistress.

About that time Fame, which carries throughout the whole Earth the Actions of Great Men, blaz'd about, that Mainville had signa­liz'd himself above all others in a Battel. At these Newes the Mar­chioness, who was as sensible to Honour as any Woman in the World, found her tenderness to re­vive. The Resentment she had of her Lover's forgetfulness, had made [Page 107] her discontinue writing to him: She then took Pen and Ink, to ex­press to him the satisfaction she had in his Heroick Performances. Ne­vertheless she mingled soft and ten­der Reproaches with the Praises she bestow'd upon his fine Actions; insomuch, that one might say, that her Letter was both a Letter of Love and of Civility. Mainville was exactly of the Humour of those People the Marchioness had de­scrib'd to her Woman; too easy Conquests became flat to him, and he had been for some time disgusted because she had done too much for him. But Two Months Absence making him look upon her then as a New Mistress, he renew'd writing to her in very passionate Terms, seeking sorry Excuses to colour the little Consideration he had shewn for her. The Weakness of People in Love, is so extraordinary, that the Marchioness was satisfy'd with his Reasons, as if they had been [Page 108] good. Thus their Intrigue was re­new'd as before, and all as much charm'd with one another as they had ever been; they let not a Post slip without interchanging of Letters.

This Commerce lasted during the rest of the Campaign; and being ready to end, Florange being at Paris upon a Law-Suit, and suspe­cting that Mainville writ to his Wife, repair'd to his own Home, to hinder him from seeing her at his re­turn from the Army. His Precau­tion was somewhat necessary, be­cause that Mainville was really re­solv'd to see her on his way. Yet was it in vain: for though Main­ville knew him to be at home, as he would have been sorry to have come so near to no purpose, he dis­guis'd himself, as a Miller's Boy, to see his Wife. This being done, he mounted upon a Mule, with seve­ral Sacks under him; and in this E­quipage came to the Court of the [Page 109] Castle one day that he knew him out a hunting.

He was inform'd, that it was the Marchionesses Woman that caus'd the Corn to be measur'd before her, and who receiv'd the Meal; so as that he fancy'd it would be no hard matter to make himself known. But this Nymph little dreaming, that the Marquis de Mainville was become a Miller's Boy, began, without look­ing him much in the Face, to rattle him, for that his Master had not the time before restor'd all the Meal he ought to deliver: That is to say, in plain English, that she accus'd him of being a little Thievish. Main­ville laugh'd heartily in himself at her mistake; but referring till an o­ther time to rally her for it, he got up to her to press her Hand, thinking, that after that she would no longer take him for a Miller. But the Dam­sel, far from guessing what that meant, call'd him insolent Rascal; which made all the People flock a­bout [Page 110] him, beginning to threaten him. Then the Damsel viewing him more earnestly, and perceiving the fault she had committed, she was at a very great loss how to re­pair it: for now was it a little too late, all People flocking to see the Miller. The Marchioness acciden­tally return'd from walking, and having enquir'd why all her People ran that waywards, she was told the occasion, and going that way her self, her surprise was extream, when she knew Mainville. Never­theless, without making any thing known of her amazement, she said, that he ought to be shut up, and that when her Husband was return'd from hunting, he should order what he deem'd fitting for his Punishment. Her presence of Mind was admirable in this occasion; for she freed him by these means out of her Servants Hands, some of whom might other­wise have known him.

Thus was he led into a Tower ap­pointed for Criminals; but he was no sooner there, than that the Dam­sel came to fetch him thence, to con­vey him to her Ladies Feet. He there forgot the Fright he had been in, when he saw himself surrounded with all Florange's Domesticks. These Two Lovers upbraided one another tenderly, for having been so long without writing to each o­ther; and Love largely rewarded them for the pains it had made them suffer. However, after several soft­nesses it became Mainville to think of being gone; for Florange was every moment expected, and it was necessary to shun his Presence. The Marchioness was the first to mind him of it, and he was so charm'd with her Presence, that it was quite out of his thoughts. But consider­ing his Dress, his getting off was difficult: for a Servant might see him go out, and he would not have fail'd of stopping him, thinking he [Page 112] did a fine Job. The Marchionesses Woman seeing their perplexity, of­fer'd to give him a Suit of her Cloaths, saying, that since she had done all the mischief, it was but Ju­stice that she should bring a Reme­dy. Mainville willingly receiv'd her Offers; and knowing that he should find his Mule at the Park-Gate, he took leave of his Mistress, after having assur'd her of a Love-Proof against all things.

He took his way along a Wood, that reaches from the Park of Flo­range's Castle, to a small Village, but half a League thence. So far went he without any ill Encounter. But when he was beyond it, he met with Florange, who was unhappily re­turning from hunting. The other Hunters had taken through an other way, and Florange was all alone, ei­ther in meditating on the Pleasure he had that day taken in hunting, or perchance in thinking on some­thing else that was not so agreeable. [Page 113] No sooner did Mainville perceive him, but that he sought to get out of his way; but Florange having by chance cast his Eyes on that side, fancy'd him, by his Garb, to be his Wife's Woman, and in that Opini­on he ran full speed to him. As soon as he had overtaken him, he ask'd him, whither she was a going: for Mainville being mask'd, he still took it to be the same Person. Mainville made him answer, that he was mi­staken, and that not knowing him, she did not think her self oblig'd to give him an account of her actions. If you do not know me, then Florange reply'd, you are certainly a Thief, since that this Rigging belongs to my Wife's Woman. I took you at first for her, but I now perceive that I am mistaken. I am neither the one nor the other, Mainville reply'd, and you are mi­staken in the Cloaths as well as in the Person. Be advis'd by me, pursue your way, without insulting me any longer; otherwise you may pay for your [Page 114] intrusion. I am content, reply'd Florange; but first unmask your self, that I may judge by your face, whether I am mistaken or not. Mainville was far from doing it; insomuch, that Florange, who never was civil in his Life, seeing that he excus'd it, set himself to snatch off his Mask.

Mainville went not to his Amo­rous Expedition without good Pi­stols, that in case of Accident, he might be in a posture of defending his Life. Thus seeing himself press'd, he drew out one of them from un­der his Petticoats, which stopp'd Florange's Rage: for naturally he had a great respect for all sorts of Fire Arms, running, at least, as fast in his Retreat, as he had done when he came to accost Mainville. When he was in the Village I lately menti­on'd, he began then to breathe, and sounding an Horn, he call'd all his Hunters, that could not be far di­stant. They forthwith rang'd them­selves about him, and Florange ha­ving [Page 115] related his Adventure to them, exhorted them to run after the Un­known, saying, that he must needs be a High-way-man.

Mainville hearing the Call, did very much suspect that he was going to be pursu'd; thus being very willing to escape further trouble, if he could, he spurr'd on. But his Mule not go­ing so fast as Horses, the Huntsmen overtook him before he could get to a Wood he thought to have be­taken himself to. They call'd out immediately to him, to yeild him­self up; but chusing rather to dye, than expose himself to the Discreti­on of his Enemy, he took his Two Pistols in his Hands, and cry'd out to the first that advanc'd, that it should cost him his Life, if he pre­tended to do any Violence to him.

In this nick of time there hap­pen'd Officers to come by, that were returning from the Army; and they seeing so many Men attacque a sim­ple [Page 116] Woman, they sided with her, assu­ring her, that no hurt should be don her, unless they were all first kill'd. After they had thus offer'd their Ser­vices to Mainville, they ask'd Flo­range, and all his Company, what that Lady had done to them, that they us'd her with so little Civility; And as Florange had only spoke to them of his Suspicions, they car­ry'd away Mainville in spight of Florange, and promis'd to guard him whither he pleas'd. When he was gone a League from thence, Gentlemen, said he to them, you have taken a great deal of pains, and I hope one day to return the Civility: for though you know not who I am, yet do I know you. In the mean while; if you are minded that the Ob­ligation I have to you, should be com­pleat, you will suffer me now to go, without having the Curiosity of know­ing who the Person is whose Defence you have undertaken. At these words they all made him answer, out of a [Page 117] perswasion that he was a Woman, that they would not forsake her till they had brought her to her own Home; and Mainville seeing their Obstinacy, unmask'd himself, sur­prizing them very much in making himself known.

The Command he had in the Army, afforded him a great Autho­rity. Besides, he was of so consi­derable a Family, that many people were bound to have a respect for him. Thus these Officers ask'd his Pardon for having oblig'd him to make himself known against his will, as suspecting that he had put himself into a Disguise upon some occasion that he was not willing should be known publickly. Main­ville being a well-bred Gentleman, told them, that after the Service they had done him, it was easie for him to excuse their Curiosity. How­ever that he begg'd of them, not to make the least mention of his Ad­venture, because that there were [Page 118] people who delighted in making the worst of all things. He embrac'd them all after this; and thus having got himself off from this bad Busi­ness, he went to find out his Ser­vants, who were not far distant.

Florange, who was in Despon­dency, for that these Officers had made him miss of his aim, making reflection of what had newly befal­len him, fancy'd there must be some Mystery underneath All, and re­turn'd to his own House with his Soul full of Suspicion. At his arri­val he ask'd his Wife's Woman, whom she had lent her Cloaths to; and this Question having puzzled her, she blush'd, insomuch that Florange having observ'd some Change in her Countenance, he press'd her still more to tell him what she had done with them. She then stutter'd, saying one while, she had lent no body any Cloaths, ano­ther, that she had quite forgot to whom it was. Florange judging [Page 119] by her Confusion, that something had pass'd which it was not thought fitting he should know of, went di­rectly to his Wife's Chamber; to whom he put an Hundred Questi­ons, that so he might get from her some light into this matter. The Marchioness had newly been told what was befallen Mainville and her Husband, and how the former had got out of the other's Hands. Thus having nothing to fear on that side, she made him answer, that he made a great deal of noise for a Garment, or so; and that she did not enquire so much as he, with what her Wo­man did with her things. During these Transactions, the Miller of the House arriv'd, and finding all the Doors open, he mounted into the very Chamber where Florange was. My Lord, said he to him, without first enquiring, whether he was in an Humour to hear him, I come to assure you, that it was none of my Lads that was sawcy to my Ladies [Page 120] Woman: they are all at the Mill; and I neither challenge him nor his Mule, which you may make what Ex­ample you please of. It is some Rogue or other, that says he belongs to me, that so he may do me an injury; but good my Lord, let me beseech your Worship, to protect me in this occasi­on, since you have the Knave in your hands, and that you can by the force of torments, draw the Confession of his Crimes from him.

What this man said, was Hebrew to Florange, who knew not what pass'd; but being told the Adven­ture of the Miller's Man, he gave order for the fetching him out of Prison, and that he should be brought to him that very moment. Those that were officious to obey him, ran immediately to the Tower where he had been shut up; but they found the Door of it open, and the Bird flown. Thus they re­turn'd much amaz'd, to tell Flo­range, that some body had let the [Page 121] Prisoner escape, and that they knew not who it was. At these words his Suspicions re-doubled, so much the more as that he then remembred that the Damsel he perceiv'd had a Mule, and that there was great probability of her being the Miller's Man.

He sent the Miller away very much satisfy'd, by telling him, that he meant him no harm; but seek­ing to dive into this mystery, he ask'd his Wife, what was become of the Prisoner, and by whose order he had been put out of Prison. He must needs, the Marchioness reply'd, have found the Secret of making his Escape himself, and I know no body here that would have been so bold as to have done it without your Orders. The People that have been concern'd in't, Madam, Florange reparty'd, are more submis­sive to your Ladyships order than to mine; and however you defend your self, yet do I smell out your Contri­vance.

This Conversation was upon the point of being keen on both sides, when the same Relation that had reconcil'd them, came in. You come very seasonably, said Florange to him, to do me Justice. You accus'd me of being whymsical and jealous; but I do not think you would harbour that Opinion, after what I have to tell you. He thereupon acquainted him with what had newly happen'd, and did firmly believe, that he was go­ing to take his part, when the other call'd him Visionary more than e­ver. You rave Cousin, said he to him, and I am very sorry I must tell you, that you serve for a Laughing­stock to all our Countrey. I should make a Mock of you as well as the rest, were I not your Kinsman; but I must at length come to that, as no longer finding any means of excusing you in the World. I am not so mad, Cousin, reply'd Florange to him, as you would fain make me believe: and if the like thing befel you, you would [Page 123] oblige me, in acquainting me what you your self would say of it. I should say, his Kinsman reparty'd, that a real, or a false Miller was come to my house, and that seeing himself con­fin'd, he had forc'd his Prison. As to the Habit, which you make the principal Cause of your Disquiets, I would still say, that my Wife's Wo­man had lent it to some friend; that I had met with this friend on the way; that she would not make her self known, and without tormenting my head, to dive into the reason, I would let all people be at quiet at home, which would let me be so. That is to say, reply'd Florange, that you would be a very convenient contented Hus­band. So convenient, the Cousin answer'd, that I would never think ill of my Wife, unless I saw it with my own Eyes. Besides, to what purpose, continued he, d' ye so much shrift into a thing which can only afford us matter of trouble? And should I not rather chuse to live as all well-bred [Page 124] People do, than live as you do. These Words vex'd Florange, insomuch, that he was going to say some disob­liging things to his Relation, when that this latter, to avoid his ill Hu­mour, went his ways, without ta­king leave of him.

Some days after a Letter came from Paris to Florange, by which he had notice, that his Law-Suit was ready to come to a Trial, and that his Presence there was requi­site. I intimated a while agoe, that he had laid aside the Care of this Law-Suit, to hinder Mainville from seeing his Wife. His Jealousie ha­ving then rather augmented than di­minish'd, he resolv'd to take her a­long with him, that he might be the better secured of her Conduct. Af­ter that he was got to Town, a per­son that pretended to be a Friend of his, but meant to banter him, as knowing his Weakness, told him, that if he was so much concern'd to know whether his Wife was honest, [Page 125] he would furnish him with a good contrivance. That he knew a famous Female Fortune-teller, to whom nothing was unknown, and that if he would consult her, she would ac­quaint him with such things as would surprize him. Florange did not want Wit, so as that knowing out of what motive this man dis­cours'd him in this manner, he thank'd him coldly for his offers; adding, that it did not belong to all People to concern themselves in the Affairs of a Husband and Wife. Ne­vertheless Florange consider'd in himself of what he had said to him, and being silly enough as to ima­gine, that a Fortune teller could convict his Wife of the Intrigue she had with Mainville, he enquir'd, under hand, where those sort of People dwelt, and was not long without being inform'd of the Lodgings of a Woman that pre­tended that way. None but Fools went to her House, or Persons ex­treamly [Page 126] credulous. Yet not one came thence without being unde­ceiv'd: for it was by Chance, if she spoke one Truth among a thousand Lyes. Florange repaired thither one Morning without any Retinue, and desired this Woman to conceal no­thing from him, of whatever con­sequence the things were that she should find out, either by his Hand or Physiogmony. The Fortune­teller, by his words, guessing at his Ingenuity, began with making him pay before-hand; then discours'd him with what she was wont to say to all those that were so silly as to come and consult her. Florange knowing then how much he was in the wrong, to hope for any thing in her, told her, that it was Pains and Money thrown away, as to come and see her; and as she endeavour'd to save her self by a World of silly Stories, with which she lur'd the most credulous, there came a Man into the Room, habited after a caprici­ous [Page 127] manner, and that would have Bug-bear'd little Children. His Ha­bit was Black, all done with streams of Fire; insomuch that one would have said, that he had been a Devil that was return'd from Hell, or at least, a Man that had borrow'd the form of one. He had a Mask that represented a Face to the Life; but so dismal, that a body trembled to look upon it. This Mask was not made of Past-board, as all others are, and you would have taken it for real Flesh. The rest of his Ha­billement suited exactly with the Mask. He had Buskins on, and in­stead of a Lyon's Skin, a Grotesque, representing the Furies, and to his very Shooes one would have said, that they had been the Scales of a Serpent, so well had Art imitated Nature. This Counterfeit-Monster held a Wand in his Hand, with which he struck thrice upon Florange's Head. This poor Marquis needed not this Over-plus of terror, having [Page 128] been sufficiently frighted at the sight of the Monster. He was more dead than alive; insomuch that he would willingly have given the half of his Estate to have been from thence. But his Fright was quite an other thing, when the false De­vil spoke to him in this manner; Since that thou believ'st that the For­tune-teller is not capable of telling thee thy Life, I am come my self to inform thee of all thou would'st know: Thy Wife is more discreet than thou deservest; and though there be some Appearances against her, these Ap­pearances are less strong than truth. Mainville is neither in love with her, nor she with him, and thou must only accuse thy own Jealousie, if any one has been so spightful as to take a de­light in allaruming thee. The Let­ters thou hast receiv'd are forged Let­ters, and if thou continuest to be jea­lous, a great many more will be paulm'd upon thee. Such as thou seest me, my Business is to make the living [Page 129] mad, and I shall neither spare my Contrivances nor my Pains, to disturb thy Quiet, unless thou avail'st thy self of my advice.

It is hard to say which of the two, Florange, or the Fortune-teller, re­main'd the most amaz'd at these words: for she could not apprehend who it was that plaid this part. True indeed, that she was not unacquaint­ed with the false Devils Habillement, having her self caus'd it to be made, to fright such as were fearful. But she knew not who could take it so in the nick, as to [...]ay such particular things to Florange. However to render the Adventure still the more extraordinary, Mainville, and the Marchioness, being egg'd on by the like Curiosity, came to the same place, and finding the House-door open they mounted into the very Fortune tellers Chamber, without meeting with any body to ask them their Business. The false Devil had not shut the Door, so as that Main­ville [Page 130] and the Marchioness entred therein, not in the least expecting the People they there met withal. Florange's Fright was extream at the sight of them, imagining, that the Devil had made them come without their consent. But that of Main­ville and the Marchioness was no less, seeing Florange; for then they thought themselves lost without Re­medy. He that acted the Magician, or the Devil, as you shall please to call him, seem'd quite unhing'd and nonplus'd, remaining for some time without speaking [...] word. But all on the sudden rec [...]vering his speech: Admire my Power [...] said he to Flo­range: Here are [...] two Persons that occasion thy Disquiet, whom I have caus'd to come hither on purpose to tell thee what familiarity passes between them two: Thou wilt learn their in­nocency from their own Mouths, if thou dost not put confidence enough in what I have told thee. Florange fell into a Swoon at these words; and [Page 131] the false Devil seeing him in that Condition, repuls'd Mainville and the Marchioness with his Wand, telling them they had nothing more to do there. They did not stay to be told it twice; and the Marchioness ha­ving with much a-do got again to her Coach, in she stept, with a Hor­ror more easie to imagine than de­scribe.

Florange continu'd still some time in his Swoon, while that the false Devil took the Fortune teller into an other Room, to tell her, that ha­ving had the folly; as well as others, to come and see her, he had found that Chamber-door open, wherein he entred. That meeting with no body there, and hearing loud talk­ing in the next Room, he had li­sten'd, and perceiv'd Florange's Voice. And having perceiv'd at the same time upon the Bed, that Ha­bit he had upon his Body, he had put it on, to tell him his Fortune, as being inform'd to every little cir­cumstance [Page 132] of his Life. That she had seen the success of it, and that it was her part now to maintain the Fame such an Adventure was going to gain her in the World.

The Fortune-teller was very glad that Chance had so well seconded her Cheats: and all haughty upon this Event, she gave Florange a Check when he came to his Senses a­gain, for that he would not give Credit to the Wonders of her Art. Florange would doubtless have ask'd her Pardon, if he had had the pow­er but to speak but one bare word; but he was still so much afraid, that all that he could do, was to get to a Hackney-Coach that waited for him at the Door. When he was got in he began to breathe, as thinking that the Devil had not so much power o­ver him there. He then promis'd never to see, as long as he liv'd, any Fortune-teller: and being got home, he us'd his Wife quite otherwise than he had done of a long while, as ap­prehending, [Page 133] that if he should use her ill, the Devil would rise up in her defence, as he had threatned to do.

After this, Florange staid still some time at Paris, and having met with Mainville in a Company, he spoke to him as if he had never born him any grudg. Nay, he ask'd him what was the Cause they did not see one another now; insomuch, that Mainville would have been in a strange Maze, had he been ignorant of the Fortune-teller's Adventure. But knowing what pass'd at her House, and how much Florange was of a fearful Humour, he knew to what to attribute his Change.

In the mean while Mainville and the Marchioness were not able to comprehend whom they had the Obligation to of what was fallen out; for no body had ever known any thing of their Concerns, save Grand-Champ and the Damsel I have [Page 134] mention'd: and they knew very well, that neither of them two had revealed their Secret. For the Mar­chioness had left her Woman at home; and as for Grand-Champ, they could not suspect him, as knowing him long since dead. But whoever it was, they were endebt­ed to, they look'd upon it as a great piece of Service: for they began a­gain to see one another, and that too without Florange's finding fault. Mainville was not however wanting to have some Pre-caution, when he was with the Marchioness, as know­ing there is nothing so easie to kindle anew as the Suspicions of a jealous Person.

Thus they liv'd in some sort of re­pose for a time: But as Prudence is very rare in strong Passions, these Lovers forgot that Florange was na­turally prone to Jealousie, and that the least thing was capable of giving him Umbrage. They were ever by one another, not being able to re­main [Page 135] a moment without enterchang­ing of Words: and when Chance separated them, one might in their Faces read a certain Grief, as made those judge that had the least Con­cern in it, that they were not in ill Terms with one another. Florange began also to doubt that the false Devil had told him a Lye, when he assured him, that his Wife was ho­nest. The Devils, said he in him­self, are Lyars, and a Man must be as simple as I to put trust to their Words. Besides there is something in this mat­ter that I do not apprehend: for their business being to molest Mankind, how comes this, if he be a real Devil, to endeavour to cure me of my suspici­ons? Thou art abus'd, Florange, ad­ded he, and like a fool, fallest into the Trap. Are not thy Eyes surer than all that can be said to thee? And what hast thou to do with the testimony of an Other, when thou thy self dost but too clearly see thy dishonour?

Thus confirming himself daily more and more in the Opinion, that he had been impos'd on, he took somewhat extraordinary measures to shrift into Mainville's and his Wife's Intrigue. He pretended not to take any notice of their fondnesses, but resolv'd to surprize them, when they least expected it, and to put them so many Questions in one ano­ther's Presence, that they should be nonplus'd. He knew that the mo­tions of the Countenance common­ly discover what lies most hid in the Heart: and when one does not find one's Conscience clear, it is an hard matter to keep one's Judgment. Whereupon he one day ask'd them, when they were in a deep Chat, whe­ther there was not a great deal of Pleasure, in entertaining one's self thus aside with what one loves, ad­ding that they must needs tast this happiness often, since it was but a few days ago that they had thus been together alone. It is easie to imagine [Page 137] the Confusion these Lovers were under at this Discourse; they were in such a Maze they could not give him one bare word of answer. But Florange judging by the state they were in, that his Suspicions were but too well grounded. To what pur­pose, renew'd he, is it for you to use fineness with me? and am not I so clear-sighted, as to know what I ought to believe of it? You love tenderly one another, and I should have but little regard for both, should I oppose so fine an Amity. The coolness he affect­ed in uttering these Words, did so to all intents disorder Mainville and the Marchioness, that they did no­thing but gaze upon one another, as if they had complemented one ano­ther, who should answer him first. At last, Mainville being confus'd to the highest degree, endeavour'd to undeceive Florange, endeavouring to perswade him, that being so much his Friend, as he was, he could not, without an extream ingratitude, cast [Page 138] his Eyes upon his Wife. Let's leave our friendship there, answer'd Flo­range coldly, and I should be very much too blame, were I contented with your Reasons, since, All dear as I am to you, as you say, my Wife must needs he dearer to you than I am. She has Charms for Men which I have not, and made as she is, she would have reason eo complain, if under the Pretext of our Acquaintance, you re­fus'd to love her. And indeed, you cannot put it out of my head, but that you do her Justice. Mainville being no longer able to endure a Conver­sation that madded him, us'd then his utmost efforts to insinuate into him, that he had never had any thoughts of the Marchioness: But Florange turning towards her, And Madam, said he to her, will you be as insincere as he, and will you main­tain it to my face, that you have been able to be so long expos'd to the Cajol­laries of a well-bred man, without suffering your self to be affected. The [Page 139] Marchioness made him answer, that he did her the highest injury, to put such a Question to her: That her Duty did sufficiently inform her, that she ought to love him only, and that he ought not to doubt but that she did all that her Duty directed her. A meer Resvery, Madam, he reply'd to her, is that same Duty with which your Ladyship pretends to entertain me; and a thousand Wo­men, that are no less honest than your Ladyship, tread it daily under foot; But since you assure me, that it is strong enough, as to hinder you from paying to my Lord of Mainville's me­rit what you owe it, and that on the other side he vows, that the friendship he has for me, hinders him from pay­ing you what he owes you, you will both do well never to see one another more. And indeed, it would be lay­ing your Reputation too much at stake, Madam, added he, any long­er to suffer the Visits of a Man that has not the sence to know your worth. [Page 140] And you, my Lord, said he, addres­sing his Speech to Mainville, you would do me a kindness, never to set foot more in my house: for I esteem my Wife, and do not love people that slight her so much, or are so insensible, that thus they can resist so many Charms. At the same time he scrap'd Mainville a long Leg, as much as to say, that it was time for him to be gone, and shewing him the Door, he made him apprehend thereby, that he was not of a Humour so easily to be paulm'd upon in his Beleif.

I shall in no wise go about to re­present to you in this place, neither Mainville's Amazement, nor the Marchionesse's Confusion. They could hardly imagine what they heard; but however loth they were to obey Florange's Command, they must submit; nay, and without re­ply. When Mainville was gone, the Marchioness stomacking what had newly happen'd, and being unable to bear with a separation from her [Page 141] Lover, she began to discharge her Anger upon her Husband. She told him, that his Capriciousness was beyond Example, and that she needed only to blaze about his Car­riage, to put him out of repute with all the World. Florange could have answer'd her, that as he had been out of repute a long while, he had nothing more to manage upon that Point, but continuing in the same manner he began, he made her an­swer, with a mighty serious look, that he perceiv'd the ingratitude of Women; that he had newly done her a great piece of Service, in rid­ding her of a Man that was good for nothing; and that nevertheless, instead of thanking him for it, she loaded him with Reproaches.

After this, the Lady could not expect to see Mainville again at her own House; insomuch, that when they were minded to speak with one another, they were oblig'd to bor­row the House of some she friend. [Page 142] These Pre-cautions render'd their Interviews much seldomer, and by Consequence much more agreeable, because that Difficulty is wont to be a seasoning to Pleasures, though that all People are not pleas'd with such a Ragoo. It was then a little after Christmas, a time that Merri­ments and Feastings begin at Paris, when a Friend of Florange's having been presented with a Nosegay at a Ball, made him agree, that he should entertain his Lady with the Fiddles. The Lady being inform'd of it, sent notice to Mainville, that he should not let that Occasion slip, without making advantage on't; insomuch, that he disguis'd himself, that he might not be known in the Assem­bly. It was numerous and fine; and as the Marchioness was weary of dancing, she plac'd her self in a Cor­ner, whither Mainville repair'd im­mediately to entertain her. He would have staid at her Feet till the Ball had been ended, if a Lady had [Page 143] not come to take him out to dance with her. He could not but out of Civility give her his Hand: But while he danc'd, another Masque­rader took his Place, and began to say such particular things to Madam de Florange, that she was mightily surpriz'd at it. His Garb was that of a Gypsey, which had help'd him much to the accosting of her. Ma­dam, said he to her, Ladies are com­monly curious, and the Habit I wear, informs you, that telling of Fortunes is my Province. If you doubt it, you need only to give me your Hand, and you will presently perceive that I am no Bungler in my Profession. There­upon he gave her an Account of Mainville's Amour, from the begin­ning to the very end, and when it came to the place of the Fortune­teller: It is to me, Madam, added he, that you have the obligation of being freed from that ill step. I had some Relation to that Woman, which oblig'd me to go often to her house, and [Page 144] I came thither pretty seasonably to do you Service. After he had given her this Account, he left her, without being to be perswaded to make him­self known, though she press'd him very much. But as he was going his ways, Florange, who had ob­serv'd his Conversation with his Wife, and who took him for Main­ville, by reason he had something of his Air, and of his Shape, stopp'd him by the Arm, just when he was at the bottom of the Stair-case, and told him, that he had something to say to him. The Masque staid at these Words, and Florange seeing that he was just ready to hear him. I thought, said he to him, that after having admonish'd thee, never to see my Wife more, thou would'st never have had the audaciousness to discourse her, and particularly in my sight. But by what I perceive, thou mak'st no ac­count of what is said to thee, since to the prejudice of my Prohibition, thou hast been newly talking to her. Now [Page 145] for once and all, either let this not happen again, or I shall use such means as shall make you repent you did not take my Advice.

The Masque, that did not expect such a Complement, was very much surpriz'd at it; but having Reasons not to answer so keenly as he was talk'd to: I know not, he reply'd, what you mean by this Discourse, and you certainly take me for an other, ha­ving never spoke with your Lady before to day. Wherefore you could not give me Instances of your jealousie, as you tell me. But since I now know that makes you uneasie, I assure you, that for fear of disturbing your repose, I shall care­fully avoid meeting her, being very wil­ling thereby to let you see, that I shall ever Court the Occasions of obliging you.

Nothing could be more hand­some than this Answer. But Flo­range being of a Character to be fu­rious, when one crept before him, it augmented his Audaciousness; in­somuch, [Page 146] that speaking a Language still more arrogant than the former, he told the Masque, That Excuses were but slight Reparations, when the Offences were real. That thus he meant to chastise him for his impru­dence, as he deserved. And at the same time laying his Hand to his Sword, he oblig'd the Masque, in his own Defence, to take one his Foot-man carry'd for him. Per­chance Florange would then have been glad he had not begun the Quarrel; but seeing that the Masque did but parry, without making any Thrust at him, it encourag'd him so as to rush on upon him, and pushing blindly on, he ran himself upon the other's Sword. However, the Masque receiv'd at the same time a Thrust quite through the Body, which made him fall stone dead on the other side.

The noise they had made in quar­relling, had made the People run to part them; and Florange's Friends [Page 147] seeing him all cover'd with Blood, and the Masque lying in the Dust, ask'd him the Occasion of their Quarrel. It is my Wife, answer'd he them, who is the Occasion of my Death. Hold me up, I conjure you; for I have but one moment more to live. But if any of you would oblige me, let him go tell her, that in shed­ding my own Blood, I have at least the Comfort of having taken Mainville's Life away. At these Words the Ru­mour ran immediately through the whole Assembly, that Mainville was newly kill'd; and this News extra­ordinarily afflicted the Marchioness. She gave deep Sighs, and without minding in that moment either her Husband's Wound, or all that Peo­ple could say of her Conduct, she ran where the Dead Man lay, to see if her misfortune was without Re­medy. As soon as she had cast her Eyes upon his Cloaths, she present­ly perceiv'd they had given her a salse Allarum; and studying to re­pair [Page 148] what she had newly done, she went to Florange, and made his Friends believe, that the Tears she shed were only on his account.

However, she gave her Woman Order, under hand, to enquire who the Dead Man was; and this Damsel being curious enough of her self, resolv'd to use her utmost Care. But this needed no great trouble; for as soon as the Deceased's Mask was taken off, all the Servants of the House knew it to be Grand Champ; and she her self going near the Bo­dy, quickly perceiv'd that they were in the right. For some time she could hardly believe what she saw, as being pre-possess'd with his Death, upon the Account that had been gi­ven her her self in the Village before mention'd: But you must know, that she had been misinform'd, be­cause at the time they imagin'd he had breath'd his last, he was only fallen into a Lethargy, occasion'd by the loss of Blood, and which [Page 149] he recover'd from some Hours af­ter.

As the Marchioness had been well pleas'd to hear of Grand-Champ's Death, instead of that of Mainville, it put her Husband into an incredi­ble Despondency. For besides the Grief he had to know his Wife's Lover still in a Condition of di­sturbing his Rest, he was out of Countenance for having wrongfully shewn his Jealousie in such good Company: and what is more, he was not without Regret for having kill'd the unfortunate Grand-Champ. But what disquieted him more than all this, is, that the Chyrurgeons durst not ascertain he would escape from his Wound, as finding it very dangerous. While he lay a curing his Friends us'd their Interest to ob­tain his Pardon; and Grand Champ, having no body to revenge his Me­mory, they easily effected their Bu­siness. After this Florange recover'd by little and little, and seeing him­self [Page 150] in perfect Health, he us'd his ut­most endeavour to bring his Cause to a Trial, that so he might return into the Countrey, where he fancy'd he should live more at quiet than at Pa­ris.

When he was in hopes of having it brought to Trial, the Defendants, who had not over good Right, and who found an Advantage of defer­ring the Verdict, bethought them­selves of presenting a Request to the Council, by which they required to have the Cause left to an other Parliament than that of Paris, al­ledging, that Florange and his Wife had therein a World of Relations upon the Bench. The Affair being examined in full Council, Florange's Parties obtain'd what they demand­ed, and were referred to Rouen.

This Decree was extream cruel to Mainville and the Marchioness, who notwithstanding Florange's Pro­hibitions and Pre-cautions, did ne­vertheless continue to see one ano­ther. [Page 151] They knew Paris to be the only place where Intrigues could be conceal'd, and that in the other Towns, however great they might be, one remains expos'd to the Cen­sure of all People; a Man of Quality especially not being able to take a step without furnishing matter for talk. Nevertheless having in their Interviews found Pleasures they could neither of them renounce, without doing a great Violence up­on themselves, they contriv'd be­fore they parted, how to see one another at Rouen; and no sooner was Florange there, but Mainville came thither incognito.

A little before, he had, with his Credit, serv'd a President of that Parliament, who had had a great Concern at Court; insomuch, that not doubting of his Acknowledg­ment, he went and alighted at his House. There, without scruple, he declared to him what brought him to Rouen, and that he had oc­casion [Page 152] for his Service. A thousand Persons in this President's Circum­stances, would have put on their Gravity, and have likewise told him without scruple, that he might seek out an other Confident; but this President being very willing to make Returns for the Obligation he had to him, and besides, being no Enemy to Nature, he made him answer, that he might dispose of him, of his House, and of all he had in his power. I'le not have so much, said Mainville to him; and all I require of you, is to lend me one of your Coaches, when I go abroad with a Parliament-Robes. For when I go to my Mictresses House, I mean to be taken for you; and all that we are to have a care of, is, that it be not known that I am here. Thus you must make me pass in your own House, for one of your own Relations; and if People wonder that I make no Visits in the Town, you may say, that I am sick. If this was the only thing to be reme­dy'd, [Page 153] answer'd the President, the thing would be very easie. I know al­ready, without your needing to speak to me of it, that you have People here in whom you confide; and I may say the same thing of mine, whom I need only to forbid speaking, that you were at my House, to bind them to silence. But the Difficulty that I find herein is, that you would, methinks, pay a Visit to the Marchioness under my Name, and that when you are at her House, it should be thought to be me. Right, Mainville reparty'd, And this is just what I desire: And if I can de­ceive the Publick, I will take my time so well, as never to go to her Lodgings but when her Husband is abroad. I agree to't, the President answer'd; but you are going to set me at odds with my Wife. She is jealous to the utmost extremity; and as soon as she shall be perswaded, like others, that I visit Madam de Florange, I am very much afraid I shall have little quiet at home. Let's lodg our Secret with [Page 154] her, answer'd Mainville then: 'Tis the means of being all our Safeties. I have thought of that, reply'd the President; but two things hinder'd me, one is, that she can only conceal what she does not know; the other, that it would not be handsome for me to en­gage her in this Intrigue. Thus it is much better to undergo her Jealou­sie.

Mainville shew'd himself Civil, by expressing, that he would not purchase his own Content at the ex­pence of his Friend's. But the Pre­sident made him answer. That no­thing could afford him more Joy, than the doing of him Service; and though he had spoke to him of his Wife's Humour, it was not to excuse himself from the Business, but to take their measures so well, that they might keep their Concerns se­cret. A Lover is easie to perswade, when it tends to his satisfaction. Thus Mainville making but mean efforts to combate the President's [Page 155] Civility, consented to all he requi­red. He then caus'd a Coachman and two Lacqueys, to be drest up in the President's Colours; and when he went abroad, not a Person, but took him for the President, by rea­son of his Disguise. And indeed, all People saluted him in the Streets, principally those that had any Pro­cess, pretending he would have some regard to their Civility, when he should come to try it. Howe­ver, for the better deceiving of them, he took care to conceal his Face with his Handkerchief, so as that not any person living took no­tice of the Cheat; so much the more, as that he never went to the Marchionesses House, save when her Husband was gone to solicite his Judges, which she fail'd not of gi­ving him immediate notice of, that so they might not lose the occasion of seeing one another.

This he sped in for five or six times, without Fortune's playing [Page 156] him any ill Prank; but Florange's Parties being allarum'd at these fre­quent Visits, desired the President thereupon, to decline being of their Judges, giving him to understand, that visiting Madam de Florange so often as he did, he could not assist at the Tryal of their Suit, without giving them a great Suspicion. The President could easily have unde­ceiv'd them if he would, but that not being to be done, without dis­covering his Friend's Secret, he sought out sorry Excuses for the Vi­sits those Parties fancy'd he made to the Marchioness. Thus he reply'd upon them, that they were very much in the wrong, in suspecting him of any partiality: That the see­ing of a Woman did not render him the less honest man: That every Individual had his Conscience to keep: That it was not a sufficient Reason against his being a Judge at their Trial: and that on the con­trary, he was resolv'd to be on the [Page 157] Bench, to shew how wrongfully they were allarum'd. He thought thereby to serve Mainville, who had desired him to embrace Florange's Interests as his own. But these Par­ties thinking themselves lost without Remedy, after this Declaration, con­triv'd to blaze about, in such man­ner, the President's and Marchiones­ses Intrigue, as to oblige him to be the first to draw off himself. They had heard since they were in the Town, that the Presidents Wife was extreamly jealous, and that upon the least appearance of her Hus­band's Infidelity, she was wont to make an horrible bustle. Thus they fancy'd, that they needed only to in­timate the President's Visits to her under hand, and that after this the Intrigue he had with the Marchio­ness would quickly be publick.

Having form'd this Resolution, they signify'd to the President's La­dy what they were desirous she should know: and this News made [Page 158] her almost mad. She immediately loaded her Husband with a thousand Reproaches for this new Inclinati­on, and would needs oblige him to promise her never to go more to her Lodgings. She's a profess'd Gossip, said she to him, and your frequenting of her Company is only to abuse me. The President was at a very great loss how to quiet this Woman, whom he knew hard to be govern'd upon that Article. He endeavour'd to perswade her, that he saw Madam de Florange only out of respect; and that if her Concerns had not been recom­mended to him by all her Friends, he would pay her no more Visits. But his Lady falling into a Rage, and so much the more, as that he would not promise her to see her no more, she resolv'd to manifest her Jealousie in such manner, as that Madam de Florange should be ob­lig'd to forbid him her House.

While that the President's Lady was thus preparing to disturb these Lovers Repose, Fortune, that had spar'd them since they had been at Rouen, contriv'd to play them a Prank, which they had all the trouble imaginable to free them­selves from. One Day that Flo­range had chosen to see his Judg­es, he was taken with an Indisposi­tion on the Way, that oblig'd him to return home sooner than he ex­pected. He found the President's Coach at his Door, and was migh­tily pleas'd with the Honour he did him of coming to see his Wife, as judging thence he would do his best for him, when his Cause came to a Trial. Wherefore he must needs pay him his Acknowledg­ments: But at his entrance into the Marchionesses Chamber, he was much surpriz'd to find a man before her upon his Knees. The Marchi­oness seeing him come in, was still more surpriz'd than he: for it was [Page 160] Mainville, who in the President's Robes, made her a thousand amo­rous Protestations. Florange had luckily made a stop one moment, to consider upon the manner of his Behaviour in so extraordinary an occasion. The Marchioness em­ploy'd that small time to great advantage: For judging that Flo­range could not have seen Main­ville, his Back being towards him. Ah, my Lord, said she to her Lo­ver, all my Remedies are useless, and you'l cover me all with Blood, unless you put your Handkerchief before your Nose. Mainville, who had an infinite stock of Wit, ap­prehended by these Words, that Florange must needs be behind him, and seconding the Marchi­onesses Artifice, he took an Hand­kerchief out of her Hands, with which she had rubb'd her self, and which luckily for them, was all o­ver Blood, as having her self bled at the Nose but a moment be­fore. [Page 161] Then Mainville cover'd his Face with it; and Florange see­ing him in this Condition, was not sorry that he was so mode­rate, as thinking he had been un­seasonably allarum'd. Thus in­stead of quarrelling him, as he had resolv'd to do a moment be­fore, he made him a Complement upon his feigned Indisposition, bid­ding his Wife send for a clean Hand­kerchief, and fair Water, to wash his Face.

Mainville was in some sort of Se­curity, through the Marchionesses Artifice: but seeing that Florange was so very officious to serve him against his Will, he knew not yet how he should get off from this Affair, when Fortune freed him by a Circumstance that in all like­lihood should have ruin'd him. The President's Lady pass'd through the Street, and seeing her Hus­band's Coach at the Marchioness de Florange's Door, she immedi­ately [Page 162] resolv'd to go in, her Jea­lousie inspiring her with a thou­sand extravagant things. Madam de Florange knew her not; but seeing an handsome Woman come into her Room, and who seem'd a Person of Quality, she went to­wards her, to pay her her Civilities. The President's Lady stept back, with a scornful look, and then u­sing her Tongue; You ought, Ma­dam, to be satisfy'd, said she to her, with caressing my Husband, without loading me with your fond­nesses. The Traitor is oftner with you than with me; and I design henceforward to send all those that have to do with him, to your House. After this, she fell to loading Mainville with a thou­sand Reproaches, taking him for her Husband, as being decei­ved by his Garb and Wigg, that was of the President's Co­lour.

However, Mainville said not one word; which made the La­dy the more believe it to be the President, and that finding him­self culpable, he durst say nothing in his own excuse. Thus his Si­lence was a new Crime for him: She continued upon the same Tone; and after she had pretty well discharg'd her Choler, she took him by the Gown; saying, she would rather stay there as long as she liv'd, than go away without him. Mainville, who would willingly have given all things to have been away from thence, made use of this occasi­on to be gone; and being entred with her into his Coach, he on the way, underwent all that a Woman can say that thinks her self slighted. Thou dost well to hide thy self, thou Cheat, said she to him: But that Handkerchief thou hold'st before thy face, does not hide from me the Motions of [Page 164] thy Heart. I know whom thou ad­dressest thy Vows to; and all the Caresses thou sometimes makest me, are only for the better deceiving me. In saying this, she snatch'd his Handkerchief from off his Nose: But her Surprize pass'd beyond all that I can say, when instead of her Husband she saw a man she did not know. For out of certain Considerations, the Pre­sident had not let her see Main­ville, though he staid in his House; and when she had ask'd him the Reason of it, he had stopp'd her mouth, by telling her, that there were certain things which Women ought not to know. In the mean while, Mainville's Disorder was no less in this Occasion, than that of the President's Ladies; but being sooner recollected, Madam, said he to her, I know that this Adventure surprizes you: I beseecb you not to let it be known, and you will here­in oblige a Man of Quality, who [Page 165] is my Lord, your Husband's friend, and a peculiar Servant of all that regards him. I would now tell your Ladyship, continued he, what has induc'd me to disguise my self as I am; but it is better that you be in­form'd of all from his own Mouth, because, that not having the Honour to be known by you, all would be suspicious I might say to your Lady­ship.

In the mean while, the Coach jogg'd on, and they at length got home, without any other illustrati­on than this. The President was then in the Court of his House. He was strangely amaz'd to see Mainville with his Wife; and ma­king up to them, to know how this came to pass, he was still in a greater maze, when Mainville had told him aside, all that had befallen him. This is a bad Bu­siness, said the President to him; and knowing my Wife's Humour, she cannot fail of blabbing it abroad. [Page 166] However, to top upon her, he told her, that Mainville was a man of Quality, who was hamper'd in great troubles; and that it imported his Life, that People should not know of his being in Town: That there­fore he besought her not to say the least of it to any Body: and that this was the Reason that had in­duc'd him to give him a Retreat at his House, without telling her of it. You think me but an ill Keeper of Secrets, Sir, said his Wife to him, as already suspecting the my­stery; and all People have not so bad an Opinion of Women as you, since that this Gentleman himself does not conceal himself from Madam de Flo­range. Madam de Florange, the President reply'd to her, is a Rela­tion of his, and partakes in all that can befall him; insomuch, that she will be cautious of discovering where he is. The President's Lady, who was as malicious as any body li­ving, and who had plainly observ'd [Page 167] how Mainville had hid himself from the Husband. I believe, she answer'd the President, that this Lady has still more Interest than you say, in keeping your Friend's Con­cerns secret; but I very much doubt whether the Marquis de Florange has the same Regards for him. At these Words she left them both there; and the President knowing the spightfulness of his Wife, ad­vis'd Mainville to leave the Town, for fear her Twattle being told a­gain to Florange, he might suspect the Truth.

Mainville, notwithstanding the Pleasure he took in seeing his Mi­stress, follow'd his Friends Advice, and departed Rouen. The Cam­paign began shortly after, which solac'd him for this Adventure, as finding in the Employs of War wherewith to make him forget for a while the Secrets of Love.