THE GALLANT LADIES, OR, THE Mutual Confidence. A NOVEL. Translated out of French.

THE FIRST PART.

LONDON, Printed for Richard Baldwin in the Old Baily. 1685.

To my Worthy Friend, W. Horner ESQUIRE.

Generous Sir,

COntrary to the Cu­stom of our late Dedicators, who are pleas'd to importune People of Quality with te­dious Catalogues of those [Page]Virtues which neither they, nor their Forefathers ever had the least Title to, and abuse them with fulsom Com­mendations of their Wit and Judgment, of which they are so little guilty, that their Elevated Fortune ve­ry rarely admits of Common. Sense: in laying this Tran­slation at your Feet, I shall only take the Freedom to ac­quaint you, the Subject is so adequate to your Capacity, and suitable to the Noble Imployment of your Time [Page]that I could not without manifest wrong to your ex­traordinary Endowments, address it to any body but your self, who are certainly the greatest Master of In­trigue, that this, or any precedent Age has ever yet produc'd. This Period I confess is something long­winded; but, Sir, you chal­lenge this, and much more from me; it is due to your incomparable Merit, as all the World will be convinc'd, when it will shortly appear, [Page]how finish'd an Ass, and elaborate a Coxcomb you are upon Record. When a cer­tain Billet doux of yours to a Person that shall be nameless, which some very uncivil Persons have com­municated to some Persons in Authority, shall Publickly instruct our Little Smatte­rers in Love, how to raise their Thoughts to a Sera­phick pitch, and entertain their Female Divinities with sublimer Nonsense This Modern way of Wri­ting, [Page]as you are modestly pleas'd to call it, is a Ta­lent you ought to cherish, and which perhaps the neighbring Mineral Wa­ters, and now and then a Draught of Bansted Air, may improve to that degree, as the Whole Nation may be oblig'd to Surry for a se­cond, and more refin'd Longinus. Mac Flec­noe, who will ever own you to have been his Worthy Maecenas, has already assur'd us, you were, by his [Page]Endeavours, come to be a pretty hopeful, competent Atheist: You were then, I suppose, no further than Speculation; but now are advanc'd to Practice, and shew us a new Method of using the Scripture, by in­troducing it into Love-let­ters. Harry Martin was something too familiar with his Pigsnye: But you are as Pathetick as Inge­lo himself, and as devout in your Expressions when you make a Cuckold, as he was [Page]when he wrote of Repen­tance. I should here leave you, but that I think it ne­cessary to let all Married Women know, how vigorous an Asserter you are of their Liberties; I mean not only in your Personal Perfor­mances, but in the Chara­cter yon bestow upon the whole Herd of Husbands, whom you so generously call Tyrants over their Ladies. Unhappy Brutes! to fall under your Displea­sure. But thrice happy the [Page]Fair Sex, in having so un­parallell'd an Heroe to de­liver them from the Inso­lence and Barbarity of their most Tyrannical, Arbitrary Cuckolds. The many real Favours I have formerly received from you, oblig'd me in Gratitude to make you some Return; which if I have not done so effectually as you deserve, I must needs beg your Pardon. Dear, Dear Mr. Horner,

Your most Devoted, Faithful, Humble Servant, &c.

THE GALLANT LADIES, OR, THE Mutual Confidence.

NOT long after the Gar­den of the Tuilleries was finish'd, the Countess of Marignan had a mind to go thither to take the Air. After she had walked some turns, she sat down upon a Bench, where she found a Woman whose Face she thought was not unknown to her. Yet, what Idea soever she had pre­serv'd of her, she could not call her perfectly to mind, till after some at­tentive consideration they at last knew one another, and embraced [Page 2]with all the kindness that could be expected between persons who love tenderly, and have the pleasure to see one another again, after a long separation. These two Ladies be­fore they were married, had con­tracted a strict Friendship, and for a long time used to converse under the names of Iris and Cli­mene. Upon this account the Coun­tess breaking the Ice, Ah, my Dear Iris, how am I overjoy'd to see you? and yet must needs com­plain of you at the same time, since I am obliged to Chance more than your self, for this happy meeting. My Misfortunes are such, reply'd I­ris, that they have left me no Friends Proof against Censure, and Absence; so that, Madam, I could not flatter my self with the hopes of your Pardon, when all the World did me so much wrong.

I have always believed, answered the Countess, that your Enemies have contributed more than your [Page 3]self to the Reports that have been spread of your Conduct. Madam, said Iris, I can assure you, I have never really transgressed the Laws of true Honour; but I must consess, I have often hazarded the appea­rances. The same Ascendant that disposed Men to wish well to me, made me rejoice to see my self be­loved. I will yet own further, that I neglected nothing that was capa­ble of pleasing them, and that the desire I had to make them in love with me, was the only employment of my Life. I looked upon a croud of Adorers as the chiefest good, and thought nothing equal to the happi­ness of being incompass'd with them. In fine, Madam, I was what they call a perfect Coquette. That is the Cha­racter, said the Countess of Marig­nan, of all Women who have but Beauty enough to make themselves talked of; the handsomest, and the youngest are often least guilty; their vanity is more general, their [Page 4]business is only to acquire Lovers, & their Conquests follow one another so close, that they have not leisure to be sincerely ingaged. Those who are older, and less charming, almost always imbarque upon the appearances of a feigned Person, and sometimes push their adventures so home, that they are Criminal. It is ever dangerous, reply'd Iris, to follow that sort of inclination, and it seldom happens that the dis­order of the Heart has not an effect on the Behaviour, and draws after it abundance of Calamities. I wish, said the Countess, then you would let me know what has befallen you, for yet I am but imperfectly infor­med, as those are, who have not things from the Original. I can stay here as long as I please, no bo­dy will call me from you, I conjure you therefore to tell me your Ad­ventures; I would not request this of you, but I promise to give you a Relation of mine afterwards. Upon [Page 5]these Conditions Iris could not excuse her self from satisfying the Countess's curiosity, and began her Relation after this manner.

The History of Iris.

YOU know, Madam, with what constraint my Mother brought me up, that she hardly gave me the freedom of improving your Friendship. It is true also, that since you were married, and that your Husband carried you down into the Country, I had no more communication with the World. The wearisom life I led, made me fan­cy it a great pleasure to be no longer subject to the hasty reproofs of my Mother, and her Commands, so op­posite to my inclinations. I be­lieved, like a Fool, that when I was married, I should be Mistress of my Actions. This was it that caused me to accept the first offer my Mo­ther [Page 6]made me of an Husband, and without examining whether my Heart approved my Friends choice, I married the Vicount of—

In the mean time, my Mother, who had a mind that I should never be free from her severity, gave my Husband large instructions how he should govern me. There are few of them who are not very ready to pursue such Maxims: So that quick­ly after I was married he let me know his intentions, which seem­ed very different from what I pro­posed to my self. He told me, I must confine my visits among my Relations, and some Godly Persons of my Mothers acquaintance; he appointed what time I should spend in Devotion, but allowed me none for Pleasure. Now you will be sur­priz'd, Madam, to see how things are brought about. My Husband told me one day,Presidente is a Judges Wife. that the Presidente of— had asked him for me [Page 7]and desired he would give me leave to visit her. She pass'd in the World for a Woman of an uneasie Vertue, a Character not much for my pur­pose; so that I was not very earnest to see her: but I was so strictly en­joyn'd to do it, that I was forc'd to obey. I had form'd so unpleasant an Idea of her, as would hardly have been removed, but that I found her House full of Company, and the Conversation very free. She re­ceived me very civilly, commended me extremely, and in the most ob­liging manner that could be, told me, she desir'd both my Friendship, and my Company as often as I could afford it her. Her Husband look'd upon me very earnestly; and as I was about to take my leave, the Prince of—and the Duke of— came in. The first came to make a Proposition to the Presidente of go­ing to see a general Muster of the King's Guards that day at Vincennes. She made some difficulty at first; [Page 8]but on condition I would make one of the Party, she consented. We went in her Coach, for the Duke had occasion for his another way. The President had a Meen very grave and serious, and whatever he did was so forc'd, that I did not like him at all; not that he wanted Wit, but his way appeared to me so con­trary to the Politeness of the Cour­tiers who were there, that as little experience as I had of the World, I could not but find a great deal of difference between them. I will further own to you, Madam, that at this first Visit I thought the Prince very amiable. His Air was free, his Humour chearful, his Thoughts were refin'd, and his Expression just. I took notice also, that I was not displeasing to him, and that he of­ten sought Opportunities of saying obliging things to me. I never spent a Day so much to my satisfaction as this; but my Mind was so taken up with the Idea of the Prince, [Page 9]which I could by no means efface, that when I found my self alone with my Husband at Night, I thought his Company more trou­blesom to me than ever it was be­fore.

The Inclination I had for the Prince, carried me a great way in a very little time. It was impossible for me to avoid loving him; and I believe the ardour wherewith he served me, contributed not a little to my Flame. One day the Presi­dente sent to me to come and sup with her, and not questioning but the Prince would be there, I spar'd no pains or care in dressing. I knew that Patches become young People, but my Husband would not suffer me to wear any; therefore I took a Box with me, and put them on by the Torch which lighted the Coach. I found the Prince just come to Ma­dam la Presidente's as I arrived. I am glad, Madam, said he to me, as he help'd me out of the Coach, that I [Page 10]am here to render you this small Ser­vice, and shall watch all opportuni­ties of giving you more evident marks of the Possion I have for you. I do not remember what I answer'd him, for I was very young, and unexpe­rienc'd; but I know very well I spoke to him with a great deal of simplicity, and that this Declaration rais'd a mighty disturbance in my Heart. He has told me since, that this Disorder, and my innocent Be­haviour, pleas'd him better, than if I had spoken with more Art. The President observ'd the pleasure the Prince had in seeing me, and had a mind to converse with me in pri­vate; so that, Madam, in less than an hour I was forc'd to hear another Declaration of Love, which I an­swer'd no better than the first, tho for different Reasons; for if my In­clination to the Prince made me si­lent, you may well judge, the In­difference I had for the President caus'd me not to answer him. After [Page 11]Supper we had a Consort of Voices and Instruments, which did not last long, because some of the Ladies had a mind to play. You know, Madam, those who are of that hu­mour, are insensible to all other Di­versions. The President seeing I did not play, told me he would take care to divert me, on condition I would contribute no less to his sa­tisfaction; in order to which, he sent for the Musick again, which he knew I liked. This was a Con­juncture pretty nice for a Woman so little vers'd in the Affairs of Love as I was: for the Prince and the President besieg'd me by turns. When the first took me out to dance, the other told me, that Courtiers knew not how to love, and that they took more pleasure in ruining a Womans Reputation. than in the Favours she could be­stow upon them. This Truth hin­dred not my Kindness to the Prince; on the contrary, it increas'd my [Page 12]Aversion for him who told it me. I continued my Visits to the Presi­dente, which my Husband approved of, telling me, he wish'd I would conform my self in all my Actions to that Vertuous Lady. I saw the Prince almost every day at her House, but not with such freedom as to discover our Thoughts to one another; which made him think fit to give me this Billet there.

SHall I never see you, Madam, but in a Crowd of People who besiege you, and will not give me leave to acquaint you with that Passion you have inspir'd? Alas! Madam, I fear all, and hope nothing; whilst you give me not so much as one comforting look: and whatsoever mine express, you love me not enough to understand what they mean. If you would have this Secret conceal'd, take care to cherish it by some Mark of Pity; for unless you assist me, it is impossible for me not to discover it.

[Page 13] I read this Note over an hundred times; but I was strangely per­plex'd how to answer it: for my Mother was one of those old-fa­shion'd Ladies who would not have young Folks know how to write to one another, and never let me learn any more than enough to sign my Marriage-Contract. However, I was resolved to answer him; but I could not do it without trusting a Wench that waited on me, call'd Limelville, because she wrote pretty well, and I had a mind to make use of her Hand, and her Advice, in this important Dispatch. After se­veral Beginnings of my Letter, which did not please me, at last I pitch'd upon this.

IT was not without some difficulty that I resolv'd to write to you, and I found it no less hard how to express my self. But you must not so much as one minute believe I want [Page 14]Gratitude, since you have discover'd what favourable Thoughts you have of me: And I will suffer no body to instruct me how to love, but your self.

Having spent all the Morning in framing this Billet doux, I had just done sealing it, when my Husband came into my Chamber. I held it still in my Hand, and going hastily to put it in my Pocket, I unhappily let it fall. My Husband seeing a Paper fall between me and Limel­ville, took it up immediately, and being naturally suspicious, went out again presently to see what was in it. I presently perceiv'd I had lost it, and look'd about for it to no pur­pose; you may imagine how I was alarm'd. But there was so little time to lose, that without any more Reflexions we soon contriv'd how to bring our selves off. The Billet was in Limelville's Hand, and she plaid the Part we had agreed on with as much address and assurance, [Page 15]as was requisite. I was still instru­cting her, when she perceived my Husband stealing sostly towards us, to hear what we said. Well, Madam, said she to me, raising her Voice, you shall either give me the Note again which you took from me, or let me quit your Service. It is no such Crime sure to write to a Man I in­tend to marry; let me beg of you, not to leave me in this uneosie condition. To keep up the Scene, I swore to her I had not seen her Billet; but the more I assured her, the more she persisted that I had it.

My Husband was mightily pleas'd to hear us talk thus. Limelville be­sought him to use his Interest with me to restore her Note, and that with so much concern, and real signs of anger, that he was decei­ved by them, and at last gave her the Letter, and withal rallied her for having such a tender Correspon­dence with a Man. Thus she came off by a pretended Intrigue, and [Page 16]the same Billet which had been in my Husbands possession, I convey'd that very Night into the Prince's Hands, at the President's House. From this time forwards I had no more need either of Secretary or Interpreter: My Passion taught me more in eight days, than I should have learnt in half a year, if Love had not been in the case. But I was continually plagued with the Presi­dent's Addresses, which were the only Subjects of his Discourse, and he would needs persuade me, I ought to make him some return; but find­ing he gain'd no ground upon me, and believing my Husband stood in his way, he waited impatiently for the Spring, which would oblige him to go to his Command in the Army. I visited his Lady frequent­ly, and found her not altogether so severe as the World took her to be. She very patiently suffer'd the Duke to praise her white Hands and Neck, which she was not very scrupulous to shew.

[Page 17] The King, who stays not for fair weather to extend his Conquests, in February march'd to invade the County of Burgundy; and my Husband having Orders to be with his Regiment, left me alone at Paris. All things at this time seem'd to contribute to my Happiness; my Mother went into the Country too, and I forgot, Madam, to tell you, that my Husband desir'd the Presi­dent and his Lady to have an eye to my Conduct, and charg'd me to do nothing without their advice. The first use I made of my Liberty after his departure, was to advertise the Prince of it, and to give him an As­signation in the King's Garden. I was preparing my [...] meet him, when the President came to see me: He began his Vint with a long Discourse, how reserv'd I ought to live, whilst my Husband was ex­pos'd to the Chance of War; that now was my time to establish my Reputation in the Eye of the World: [Page 18]and added, that the Care of it was recommended to him. But when after these grave Admonitions, he would have spoken to me of his Love, I spitefully ask'd him whether that Article was included in his Commission? No, it is not, said he but if you do not use me well, I assure I will be reveng'd of you for that Coldness wherewith you have hitherto treated me. I was all this while it the worst Humour that could be for I thought my time very ill spent, which I might have pass'd in Conversation much more accepta­ble to me: But there was no reme­dy, I was sain to be patient two hours, and should hardly have come off so, if his Lady had not come in and then he left us together. Ha­ving something, said she, to speak [...] you in private, I desire we may not [...] interrupted. So I order'd my Por­ter to deny me, and we went pre­sently into my Closet, where sh­spoke to me much after this manner. [Page 19] You are not ignorant, said she, Dear Child, (for so she was wont to call me) that I have a sincere Kindness for you, and am overjoy'd to see you happy. For this reason, I have a mind to give you some Advice, which may not be unnecessary to you, if you desire your Quiet. And I assure you, it is a great ease to a Woman to have the World think her a Person of re­gular and prudent Behaviour. There­fore if we are wise, we ought to settle an Opinion of our Reputation, before we think of our Pleasures. To com­pass this, we must ever study to ap­pear well outwardly, and deny our selves Trifles, so we make sure of what is solid. Those who follow this method, have great Privileges above others, and whatsoever they do is still in­terpreted to their advantage. By this means I have hitherto succeeded well enough, having sacrific'd the first part of my Life to enjoy the remainder with more freedom. To proceed, I should not desire to be so intimate [Page 20]with you, but that I have observ'd you are very discreet. I would have you fix your Eyes and your Heart, limit your Desires, and have a care that your Ambition to please all men, rem­der you not contemptible. It is ridi­culous for a Woman to have such wild Designs; she undoes her self, and ne­ver succeeds. My Friendship will be a considerable Protection for you from universal Censure; and as long as [...] live united, you will need to fear no­thing on that side: However, we will not fail to live pleasantly. But Child continued she, I think you must re­solve to comply a little with my Hus­band. I perceive he loves you, and am satisfied he should have such a Amusement, that he may not look to narrowly into my Behaviour.

After all this long Preamble, the Presidente confess'd she lov'd the Duke, and that he was not ingrate ful. She added, That to avoid trus­ing her own Women, she would be glad to have a She-friend, whom she [Page 21]might confide in, to make Appoint­ments to walk with; and that we should admit the Prince into our Society, for she knew well enough we had an Intrigue between us. I approv'd all she said, only I could not agree to fix my Thoughts upon one Object, that Article I excepted out of the Treaty with a mental Reservation. She told me further, That the Chevalier du—and the Count of— whom I had seen at her House, were not fit to be trust­ed with our Secrets; and desir'd me not to entertain them. I pro­mis'd her every thing, and did stand much upon breaking my Word. When this Discourse was over, she invited me home to sup with her. My Porter told me, as I went out, that the Prince had been to wait on me. I believe his impatience to be alone at the Rendezvous, made him come to know why I fail'd. The President receiv'd me very chear­fully, and gave me a thousand Te­stimonies [Page 22]of his Friendship. I daz­led his Eyes with a superficial Com­pliance, which he liked the better, because he thought it sincere. You will wonder, Madam, to see me so inlightned in the Affairs of Gallan­try in so small a space of time: But Love, as soon as we are sensible of it, takes care to initiate us in his Mysteries; and besides, I had so lately receiv'd Instructions, that I could not chuse but be something improv'd. As soon as I came home, I found this Note from the Prince.

YOu are more knowing than I thought; and I find you are able to instruct me However, it is not so easie for you to abuse me, as you believe; and I begin now to under­stand what your Proceedings mean. You make an Assignation, and fail. When I come to inquire the Reason of it, your Servants tell me you are not within, at the same time I find the President's Coach at your Door. I [Page 23]give place to this Happy, Worthy Ri­val, and thank you heartily for resto­ring me to my self.

I could not endure to leave the Prince in this mistake; and though it were after midnight, I presently sent him this Answer.

WIse men never judge wholly by Appearances; and I am far enough from being guilty, to give you any reason to do so: but you are very much to blame, for entertaining so disadvantageous an Opinion of me. Take care to find out the Truth your self; for I assure you, I am not enough your Friend to night to take any pains to convince you of my Innocence; and I doubt not but you will have a hard­er Task to repair the Wrong you do me, than I shall have to persuade you that the President is my Aversion, and that I was powerfully dispos'd to love you.

[Page 24] If Lovers easily entertain Suspi­cions, they are are as easily rid of them. The Prince came to see me next day, we soon came to an éclair­cissement, and Peace was concluded. Though the Winter was not yet quite over, yet we had now and then some fair Weather, which I was sure not to lose; and for all Madam la Presidente's Advice, went to Vincennes, where I found all the young People that staid in Town. Here I met the Chevalier du— whom I had often seen at her House. He came up to my Coach, and I alighted, and walked with him a pretty while. You may well think, Madam, that he said soft things to me, and that I was not angry to hear them. We began a kind of an Intrigue, but it came to nothing because he went away next day to the Army, and was kill'd in that Campagne. I had abundance of such Adventures, which I pass over, [Page 25]and shall confine my self to those only which have caus'd all the Mis­fortunes of my Life.

I told the Presidente the little Misunderstanding between me and the Prince, and she generously of­fer'd to be our Mediatrix; but there was no need of it, our Hearts had already prevented that good Office. In return of my Considence in her, she let me know, that she never had any difference with her Duke. I have never the better Opinion, said I, of your Kindness for one another, for that. A peaceable Love is too like Matrimony; without quarrelling some­times, we should lose the Pleasure of Reconciliation; and without Difficul­ties, the Glory of surmounting them: there is more in it than People fancy, to have the uncontroll'd Enjoyment of the Delights of an Amorous Intrigue. What would you have me say? con­inued I: I protest I should not hate that man whose Jealousie made him a little rough with me. Pardon me [Page 26]there, said the Presidente; no body sure can talk as you do, unless they have a deprav'd Taste. We will not dispute of Tastes, answer'd I; for I am satisfied, all the Brisk Women in Town are of my Opinion; for Concern is almost always a sign of Love. My Dear, said the Presidente, you are ve­ry knowing for a Woman that was married so young; and I fear you do not distinguish in this Case between a Husband and a Lover. Yes, but I do, replied I; for that which would appear intolerably whimsical in the first, would charm me in the last Then you have tried them both, said she. No, never, said I; all these Differences that I speak of, are but Speculative. It was to no purpose for me to maintain my Opinion, for she would never agree to it. We lived thus near two Months pretty quietly, at least among our selves for as to my particular Circumstan­ces, I had a mixture of Melancholy and Pleasure.

[Page 27] You may remember, Madam, if you please, that I told you I saw the Chevalier du— at Vincennes, and that we began an Intrigue, which was to have been carried on at his return from the Army. The poor Youth was kill'd at the Siege of Dole, and the first News I had of it was from the Count de— I wept bitterly when I heard it, which had such effect upon the Count, that he fancied my Heart was susceptible of a true Affection; and therefore endeavour'd to comfort me. I re­member he talk'd to me above two hours, to no great purpose; till at last looking stedfastly upon me, he said it was a great Blessing for a man to be belov'd by me; and assured me, he would omit nothing that might deserve that Honour. At those Words I listen'd to him, I look'd upon him, and did not for­bid him to hope.

Some days pass'd without seeing him; but his return from the Army [Page 28]chear'd up my Spirits. Being un­der a necessity of carrying Matters fairly with the Presidente and her Husband, and the Prince, I told the Count he must not come so often as he did to my House; but that I would meet him at some Ladies Houses of his Acquaintance and Friends: and I was mightily pleas'd to find him always there before me. He is certainly a man of a penetra­ting Wit, which made him quickly see into the bottom of my Behavi­our, and shew'd him, there was no­thing in my Temper to be depend­ed upon. He went into the Coun­try for some time; and when he came back, I had quite forgot him. Sure he had made but little progress in my Heart; for I never heard of him there since. One day reslect­ing upon this half Adventure, I said to my self, See what comes of Love without Opposition. If I found more Obstacles to remove, more Quarrels to make up, and that my Mind and my [Page 29]Heart were more employ'd, I should not run so from one thing to another, and take such pains to intangle my self.

All this while my Happiness seem'd to be sirmly establish'd. Nei­ther Husband nor Mother talk'd of coming to Town, and I manag'd the President with such dexterity, that he imputed my Coldness to him, wholly to my rigid Vertue. But at last things began to turn, and I should have had Affliction enough, had I been capable of ta­king any thing much to heart. The Prince's Friends obliged him to mar­ry; and I believ'd, that if this En­gagement did not quite break off our Commerce, it would at least ne­cessitate him to save the Appearan­ces. However, things prov'd quite otherwise; he married a Woman that had neither Beauty nor Worth, and was only considerable for the Money she brought him: So that finding nothing either in her Person [Page 30]or her Mind, that could engage him, he soon dispens'd with those Duties which a Wife to his liking would have oblig'd him to, and I had no reason to fear she had robb'd me of his Heart. I resolved to see the Princess my self; and I had no reason to repent of my Visit. But, Madam, the Pleasures of Love are built upon such tottering Foundati­ons, that they are liable to sudden Change. Till now I lay secure, if I may so express my self, in the Bo­som of Prosperity; but at last my­time was come to undergo the Ca­lamities that Gallantry exposes Wo­men to.

The President, who began to be weary of my Resistance, and was not willing to think his want of Merit the Cause of it, cast about to discover which way my Heart was inclin'd. To effect this the better he corrupted my Woman, who had help'd me off so well with my first Letter. Perfidious Limelville told [Page 31]him all I have related to you, not forgetting either the Chevalier du— or the Count of— However, the President's Love not going beyond his Prudence, he was willing to be convinc'd by being an Eye wit­ness of my Intrigues. One Even­ing, when the Prince was with me in my Closet, Limelville sent the President word of it: This Advice disturb'd hm; but as all Lovers are apt to flatter themselves, he fancied at first I did not much value the Prince's Company; and to be satis­fied whether I did or no, order'd his Wife to send for me to play at Ombre with her. I told the Mes­senger, I could not possibly come, because I was to answer a long Let­ter I had receiv'd from my Hus­band; believing this Excuse would bring me off: but it provok'd the President more. He perceiv'd I de­sign'd to keep close where I was; therefore to expose me, he propos'd to his Wife and the Duke to come [Page 32]to my House. I had taken no mea­sures to hinder my self from being surpris'd, and knew nothing of their coming till they were in my Anti­chamber. I went thither as fast as I could, and would have led them in­to another Apartment; but the President push'd me back, and taking a Flambeau, went directly into my Closet, where he found the Prince in some disorder. They saluted one another in such a manner as you may imagine, and came back toge­ther into the Room where his Wife staid with the Duke; after which, he made me go along with him into that Chamber where I would have carried him at first.

I had not time to consider much what I should say, to excuse my not coming to his House, and my being found in private so close with the Prince. Shall I tell you, Madam? his Jealousie was so great, that he gave me a Box on the Ear with all his strength. After this transport [Page 33]of his Rage, he said all that could confound me with shame. I won­der how I did to go through with it. The truth is, I was so little con­cern'd, that I held it my best way to take his Blows in good part: So that in stead of answering his Fury with the like, I fancied the Presi­dent, who was otherwise a Man of very good temper, could not have been so violent, without an Ingre­dient of Jealousie, which is never without Love. When he left off speaking to me, I would have justi­fied my self, by telling him, I could not help entertaining the Prince, for fear he should suspect I had some other Amorous Design on foot, that hindred me from doing him that Favour. Hold your tongue, false Crea­ture, interrupted he; I know all your Intrigue: And then told me my Adventures with the Prince, the Chevalier, and the Count; of which, he said, Limelville had inform'd him. After this, I had no more [Page 34]to do, but to submit, which was cer­tainly my best way.

While I was thus employ'd with the President, the Prince and the Presidente pass'd their time but little better: The first apprehended I would reconcile my self to the Pre­sident by betraying him; the other was ready to die for fear I should discover all the Secrets she had tru­sted me with, to her Husband. But neither of them had any reason to trouble themselves; all that I en­deavour'd, was to convince him, that he did me wrong to be jealous of me; and the Interest I had not to exasperate him, arm'd me with so good Reasons, and made me so elo­quent, that at last I brought him to beg my Pardon. So we went back again to the Company pretty well reconcil'd, considering how despe­rately we had fallen out.

The Prince and Madam la Presi­dente were a little surpris'd, that such a terrible Storm was so soon [Page 35]over. I endeavoured to find by their Eyes what they thought; but they were so taken up with looking upon one another, that they took no notice how narrowly I observ'd them. As Play was only the Pre­tence of this Visit, which was spent quite in another manner, we soon broke up: When they were gone, I turn'd away Limelville; and the President, to whom she complain'd, resus'd to intercede for her. I thought now I was pretty well out of this troublesom Business, but I was deceiv'd; for afterwards the face of Affairs was extremely al­ter'd. Limelville told the Presidente all she knew, and was no less com­municative to the Prince. I was astonish'd next day to find them both very cold to me, without gi­ving me any reason for it: Indeed I did much trouble my self to find it out. We went to walk at the Ar­senal, where the Duke came to us. He gave his Hand to the Presidente, [Page 36]and the Prince began to converse with me in such a forc'd manner, that he had much ado to tell me, he was sorry for my Misfortune the day before. I quickly guess'd he was chang'd, by his stiff way. Nor was the Duke better satisfied with Madam la Presidente's Proceedings; so that I believe all our thoughts at that time were much alike. Upon this occasion, Madam, I remembred what the President had told me of the Prince's Humour, and he began to appear less and less worthy of my Esteem. What I once thought an Accomplishment in him, I now look'd upon to be nothing but Rude­ness: On the contrary, every thing the President did, seem'd very graceful to me. Yet I must needs confess these thoughts went out of my Head as fast as they came in; but at last they return'd so often, that though my Design was not to make him perfectly happy, I was at least desirous to make an intimate [Page 37]Friend as long as I lived. To speak truth, I did not yet understand my self, and was very incapable of be­having my self as I ought in such Circumstances.

The Presidente, for her share, was grown so weary of the long Tran­quillity she enjoy'd with her Duke, that she had already relish'd the Prince's insinuating Temper; and I doubt not but she met him half way; for I am sure of himself he was not very forward to court a Lady old enough to be his Mother, or his Governess. I perceiv'd plain­ly, she apprehended me no less than the Duke; and she had reason to fear, that her thwarting me would provoke me to disabuse the World in general, and her Husband in par­ticular, of the false Opinion they had of her Vertue: But she had so much wit, and was so nearly con­cern'd to preserve her young Lover, that she made it her Business to abuse me.

[Page 38] One day, as I was walking with her in the Garden, I had the plea­sure to see her setch three or four Turns at a mighty rate, and to hear her sigh as if she were deeply afflict­ed. I was impatient to know the meaning of these Tricks, when she began her self, by telling me, That the Humour and Way of Living in the World was very dangerous for Women; that it was inconsistent with their Repose; that she had found more Delight in her severest Retirements, than in all the Liber­ties she had ever allow'd her self. To conclude, Madam, said she to me, I could not possibly conceal my Melan­choly and my Sighs from you any longer, which are the Effects of a Conflict in my Breast, between a re­mainder of Inclination for the World, and a Resolution to abandon it for ever. I did not oppose her Resolu­tions, because I was sure they were affected, and that the World had her fast enough. I prais'd her ex­tremely [Page 39]for chusing the solid part; and when she told me that her Ex­perience confirm'd her in those pi­ous Intentions, I promis'd her, that when I had as much as she, I would not fail to follow her Example. This entertain'd us five or six days, du­ring which I often met with the Duke, who endeavour'd to make me joyn with him in being re­veng'd of her. But I had a mind to have all the Glory of it my self, and should have been sorry to share it with any body else.

I learnt not long after, that the Presidente saw the Prince often by visiting his Wife, under colour of Friendship, to make up Differences between them; to effect which, I was sacrific'd. I resolved then in my turn to make her a Victim to my Resentment; yet would not do it so base a way, as to betray the Secrets she had trusted me with, but chose a more refin'd sort of Revenge. One day that I was at her House, [Page 40]after her Husband had discours'd in private to me a pretty while, she ask'd me, as she used to do, what he said to me, He spoke to me, said I, of the Evening that he found the Prince with me, and represented to me the prejudice a Woman does her self, by having to do with a man of his Cha­racter. It is as little for a Womans Reputation to entertain my Husband, said the Presidente, as the Prince. Since things, replied I, continue still in the same state you first settled them, I see no reason you have to find fault now. Yes, answer'd the Presidente, I have now some Scruples of Conscience. I'll take them upon me, said I, and you shall allow me to preserve a Friend whom I have an infinite value for. At last we were so exasperated against one another, that we were utterly irreconcile­able. I was inform'd, that her Pas­sion for the Prince transported her beyond all bounds; yet I was not jealous, though certainly to a Wo­man [Page 41]who pretends to any thing of Beauty, nothing can be more insup­portable, than to see another, who is neither so handsom, nor so young, deprive her of a Servant. My Cu­riosity to know what pass'd be­tween her and the Prince, made me think of corrupting one of his Footmen, which was no hard mat­ter to do; and by this means I learnt, that the Presidente and her new Lover were to go and spend a day at an House of her Husbands in Brie, five or six Leagues from Paris, where he had importun'd me a great while to go along with him, and pass a few days. Hitherto I had refus'd him; but now I press'd him as much, and without telling any Reason for it, conjur'd him to keep the Design of our Journey private. I made him consent to let the Princess be of the Party, for she began now to disbelieve the ma­licious Stories that were told her of me. I went to her, and propo­sed [Page 42]taking the Air at Ruell, which I took to be the best way to prevail with her; for she is not a Woman to be depended upon in any thing. It was very well I went this way to work; for she presently told her Husband, we were to go next day to Ruell: which was as he could have wish'd, because it was the quite contrary Rode to that he was to take.

The President was no less satis­fied, when his Wife told him, she was to go next day to the Abby of St. Cyr. to visit Madam Arangonois, who was retir'd thither.

Being unwilling to neglect any thing that might compleat my Re­venge, I writ a Note to the Duke, desiring him to meet me at the Place where I was going; but I had little hopes of his coming, because they said he was gone to Versailles.

I was extremely glad to see the Day arrive which was to yield me so much satisfaction, by exposing [Page 43]my Rival: And the President was as well pleas'd too; for he fancied this Journey would be much to his Advantage. He commanded his Servants to go before, and prepare an Entertainment for us; but I or­der'd one of my Laquais to stay them by the way, promising to ex­cuse them to their Master; and then I went to call the Princess, tel­ling her, we were not now to go to Ruell, because the Dutchess of Aiguillon was there. She never ex­amin'd whither she was to go; for she is a Woman easie to be manag'd. From thence we went to meet the President, who staid for us at the Gate of St. Antoine, with the Ab­bot B— and we set out very chearfully. The President full of vain Hopes, the Princess intent up­on her Diversion; for my part, I thought of revenging my self upon Madam la Presidente and my trea­cherous Lover; and the Abbot B— was not idle; for he read us a new [Page 44]Play, which he had just fitted for the Stage. My Mind all the while was so possess'd with malicious Joy, that I could not help laughing out aloud sometimes, to the astonish­ment of the Company, who could not tell what to make of it. At last we came to the House, and went in, without any bodies seeing of us; for it hapned at a time that all the Servants were abroad at work; and Madam la Presidente's People were busie, a getting something for them to eat.

From the fore-Court we went in­to the next, where the President had the satisfaction to behold his La­dies Coach, and the Princess her dear Spouses Footmen. The surprise they were in, was not enough to content me yet; my Business was to let them see something more convincing: And to prevent any bodies giving our Lovers any no­tice what Company was there to wait on them, I ran before, whilst [Page 45]the President was pleas'd to ask his Wives Lacquay some Questions. The Princess follow'd me, and we went as fast as you may imagine, into a low Apartment, which we found open; we cross'd a large Hall, and several Rooms, without meeting any body; so that I began to be afraid we were mistaken: but at last I open'd the Door of a Closet, where the Princess, the President, and my self, found the Prince and his Mistress very lovingly together. She was not at all disturb'd, or sur­priz'd; but with wonderful confi­dence accosted me in this manner: You did not think, Madam, to have met so good Company here; I could not suffer you, continued she, to take the pains to come to a Place where I have any thing to do, without being there my self to bid you Welcome. I protest, Madam, she spoke to me with that assurance, that I was like to forget my Business was onely to surprise her. She carried on the [Page 46]Adventure with so little disorder, and her behaviour was so open and free, as would have confounded In­nocence it self. She said a thousand extravagant things afterwards to her Husband, the Princess, and me, not forgetting the Abbot himself; and when the poor Gentleman ask'd her what hindred her from going to St. Cyr. and why she was lock'd up with the Prince? she answer'd, She did it to discover my Designs, and to convince her self that I was un­worthy of her Friendship. While the President and his Lady were en­tertaining one another with all that Impudence and Jealousie could sug­gest, the Princess and her Lord were reasoning the Case much after the same manner; and without any re­spect to the Title he had qualified her with, she said abundance of things to him that exceedingly dimi­nish'd the Splendour of it. But nei­ther the opening of the Plot would have been according to form, nor [Page 47]my Revenge compleat, if the Duke had not been there too. He re­ceived my Note, it seems, when he came back from Versailles, and did not doubt but I writ it on purpose to let him understand some way or other Madam la Presidente's Infide­lity, who of late made him believe she was forc'd to break off Com­merce with himout of true remorse of Conscience, and Religious Consi­derations. Desirous therefore to find out her Hypocrisie, he staid no lon­ger than just to shift his Clothes, and with one Page onely came away full speed to the Place where I dire­cted him. Nor could he come at a more seasonable time for his Instru­ction; for he had but to listen a lit­tle, to be inform'd of all that he was ignorant of; and the Princess took care to open his Understand­ing. The Duke is not a man who easily pardons Faults of this nature; and if he be severe sometimes with­out cause, you may judge how he [Page 48]treats the Guilty. He thought now he might without any scruple take his full swing of Revenge; and without considering that Husband & Lover were by, set himself to ral­ly her in that manner as is natural to him, and indeed to all the Gascons. Madam, said he, addressing himself to the President's Lady, I came on purpose really to have my share of your sweet Meditations, to ask you how far you are improv'd by them, and if they are yet prevalent enough to efface the Love you have so often sworn to me: But I see plainly, con­tinued he, the New Guide of your Conscience has a greater Influence in the change of your Behaviour, than the holy Resolutions you were pleas'd to make against me; and that he had quite extinguish'd those Flames, which I had reason to believe I had pretty well fomented for a year together. Besides, give me leave to tell you, that it was a great satisfaction to me to behold you return into a Course from [Page 49]which I imagin'd I had diverted you: But I should be justly guilty of all the Crimes of your New Intrigue, if I should not now take my turn to exhort you to be more faithful to Mon­sieur le President, than you have been hitherto; and if I did not caution him not to be any longer cheated with the false glittering Tinsel of your imaginary Vertue.

Whilst the Duke spake thus, the miserable Husband, his Wife, and the Prince were so confounded, that they could not open their Mouths; not but that they had enough to say, but the truth is, People in their condition are a little indispos'd to Eloquence. The Princess, who heark­ned to the Duke all this while with inexpressible pleasure, could not help crying out when he had done, Bless me! what prodigious Wit he has! There was no occasion of this, to make him begin again upon so copious a Subject. What, Monsieur le President, said he, are you still in­sensible [Page 50]of your Ladies Conduct? Will you never open your Eyes, to see the Injury she does you? Don't you know, that when you sued one of your own Robe, and would come to no Terms of Agreement with him, she, good Lady, was at no distance in the World with him, and sacrific'd yours, and her Ho­nour too, to her immoderate Passion? Where have you lived, Man, that you know not the Marquis de St—was her particular Friend, and that I my self, without vanity be it spoken, have not received the least of her Favours?

You may guess, Madam, what the Duke said was sufficient to ex­pose Madam la Presidente's affected Wisdom and Gravity to her Hus­band; but for fear he should go on, she interrupted him to answer his Impostures, as she was pleas'd to call his raillying her Intrigues. As for the Prince, he was so exasperated that fearing he would quarrel with the Duke, which might have been laid upon me as the Cause, I took [Page 51]the last aside, and desir'd him to go out of the Room, and leave the happy Couples to compose their Differences without our assistance. With much ado I persuaded him to go, and we walk'd into a very plea­sant Garden, while the Abbot B—took upon him to be the Pleni­potentiary to make Peace between the Husbands and Wives. Though the Duke saw clearly what I did was much out of Jealousie, and made no question, but that I had really loved the Prince; yet those Reflections now were food out of his Head. He told me, nothing could be so welcome to him as Ma­dam la Presidente's Insidelity; that she had but got the start of him a few days; that he had already re­solv'd to leave her, and apply him­self wholly to me; that what he said was no Essect of Melancholy for her Change, but of a secret Com­pliance he had for all my Thoughts and Inclinations.

[Page 52] The Duke was Handsom, Libe­ral, and Magnificent; and I foresaw after this bout I should lose Prince, and President, Wife and all: So that, Madam, I must confess, being per­suaded that the Merit of a young Woman is best distinguish'd by the Multitude of her Adorers; and that to live with any satisfaction, it is necessary to have one at least; I did listen to what the Duke said, but did not give my self over to be­lieve all his Vows of loving me eternally; nor did I repulse him so, as to let him fear he was indifferent to me. I had a great Ambition to see the Court, where he was in a Station adorn'd with all the Charms that accompany high Birth, great Riches, and considerable Prefer­ments. As he was very discerning, and found how fond I was of shew­ing my self in the best Company, he flatter'd me so far, as to tell me, I could see nothing in the Circle it self so Beautiful as my self. While [Page 53]I was hearing what he said to me on this Subject, the Abbot of B—came and told me the President en­deavour'd to justifie his Wife, that they laid all the Mischief of that days Work at my door, and that both of them would make it their Business to ruine me when my Husband came home. The Duke, who now began to embrace my Interests, was so concerned at this Menace, that he desir'd the Abbot to tell Madam la Presidente, that if she did what she threatned, she should severely pay for it, and that he would make no difficulty to tell all the World what he knew of her Life and Conversation. The Ab­bot discharg'd his Commission with a great deal of Address, and in ap­pearance things seem'd to be made up; but in reality the President could never heartily forgive me.

Though all I have related to you, Madam, looks very Romantick, and that those feign'd Heroes never had [Page 54]any occasion to eat, I'll assure you this is a true Story, and those who were concern'd in it were very hungry; for my part, I found my self so, and desir'd the Abbot to put the President in mind of our Condition, which he did effectually; for his Servants came time enough to get a good handsom Entertain­ment ready for us. While we were at Table, the Abbot discours'd of the Rules of Tragedy, and of the Abbot of Aubignac's Censure of Dramatique Poetry. Perhaps he chose this Subject to shew his Parts, because he made Plays himself; or rather to divert the Company from talking of what hapned just be­fore.

From this day forward I saw none of them any more, applying my self to appear at Court, whi­ther I went with one of the Dukes Sisters. My Face and Shape were more taken notice of there, than either of them deserv'd; but you [Page 55]know, Madam, what a Value the World sets upon Novelty, and there are few who are not impos'd upon by it. To that therefore I must at­tribute all the fine things the Count de Saue and the Marquis de Villerey said to me. I discover'd so much Vanity, that the Duke soon repent­ed he had brought me into such a dangerous Air: And that which spoil'd me quite, was, that being one day at Versailles, I perceiv'd the King ask who I was, and look'd upon me in such a manner as per­suaded me that he liked me; and the Duke told me afterwards, that I was not mistaken. Certainly, Madam, when a Woman is once possess'd with Pride, and the Spirit of Coquetry, she is liable to a World of Extravagances. The Duke having assur'd me that the King liked me, I presently entertain'd ri­diculous Notions of imaginary Hap­piness, and believ'd I might come to strike that Great Monarch's Heart. [Page 56]I never went out, but I was as ex­actly dress'd, as if I was to appear in the Drawing-room; and I gave my self a loose in my Behaviour too, that it might be no Impediment to my vain Hopes: Vain I may call them; for they had no Foundation but in my Fancy. As soon as these Illusions vanish'd, I reconcil'd my self to the rest of the World, which I overlook'd before, and the Duke took Care to give me all the Di­versions he could invent, to kill, as he said, the Chimera which haunted me so. He loved Pomp, and there was hardly a Day pass'd that he did not give me a splendid Entertain­ment; to which I invited a hundred Ladies, more to gratifie my Vanity, than out of any kindness: for it is a Maxim, That Coquettes love no body but themselves; but I did not foresee, that this Splendour which I took such a pride in, hastned my Ruine, and plung'd me into great Misfortunes.

[Page 57] My Husband received Orders from the King to meet the Count de Vignory, who was then Gover­nour of Binch, to concert some se­cret Expedition. There hapned some Difficulties which retarded their De­signs, and oblig'd my Husband to stay longer at Binch than he intend­ed. Vignory, in order to divert him, and perhaps to shew him how hap­py a man he was, carried him to a Lady of the Neighbourhood in his Government, with whom he seem'd to have an habitude; and to let him see what Credit he had with her, told him he had recommended a Woman to serve her who had lived with me at Paris. My Husband's chief Reason to consent to this Visit, was the desire he had to learn how I behav'd my self in his ab­sence. The Woman that Vignory told him of was the treacherous Limelville, who no sooner saw my Husband, but to be reveng'd of me for turning her away, you may be [Page 58]sure told him all that could make him jealous. She was good at im­proving of things, and heightning that to a Crime which was but a Trifle; informing him how I was fallen out with the President, and his Lady, and the Prince, and all that she knew of my Intrigues. He conjur'd her not to discover so im­portant a Secret to any body else, and promis'd her, that when he had punish'd me, he would send for her again to govern his House.

After Limelville had so fully in­structed him, he made all the haste he could to execute the Orders he had receiv'd, that he might the sooner have an occasion to give the King an Account. Vignory and he succeeded in their Enterprise, which was to surprise a considerable Party of the Enemy, and then my Hus­band came back to Paris; for the News he brought was so good, that he did not question being well re­ceiv'd, though he came without [Page 59]particular Order from his Majesty.

All this while I was not without Employment; for the Duke is a man pretty hard to be dealt with; he was jealous of every thing, the most innocent Actions seem'd cri­minal to hm, and I lived in such constraint as began to be intolerable to me. One Evening (the most dreadful one of all my Life) it came into my Head to go take the Air at the Point of the Island, which was the Quarter of the Town where I lived. You may remem­ber, Madam, how the Duke re­proach'd Madam la Presidente with an Intrigue she had with the Mar­quis de— That very man I un­fortunately met, and could not help letting him take me by the Hand to lead me. He had seen me lately at Versailles, and several other Places, and my ingaging way of Behavi­our had begot a strong Inclination in him for me. I was delighted to converse with a man who did not [Page 60]teaze me; for the Duke was now grown as troublesom to me as the worst Husband in the World. I let him talk to me therefore a pretty while; and when he had said what he had a mind to, I told him how much I was distasted at all men in general, and then gave him a Cha­racter of such a Lover as I could like. After that, I describ'd what an insufferable Plague it is to bear with Jealous People, or to be so ones self; under borrow'd Names I told him all my Husband's and the Duke's Whimseys, and what just Reasons I had to complain of all who had ever lov'd me; at last I open'd my Heart freely to him, without any apprehension that any body overheard me. The Night indeed was so dark, that I could not perceive the Duke, who fol­low'd us close, wrapp'd up in a great Cloke. I walk'd on still several Turns, and then took leave of the Marquis, not suffering him to lead [Page 61]me home; where, as soon as I came in, I learn'd that the Duke waited for me, and fancied he would wel­come me but coldly: and I was in the right; for after he had repeated all that pass'd between the Marquis de St.—and me. from Words he came to Blows; and though too much Indiscretion was my greatest Fault, he punish'd me as severely as if I had been really guilty. Now as Complaints are very natural on such Occasions, I was wery elo­quent upon this Subject, and re­proach'd him bitterly for his un­worthy Usage of me; when of a sudden I heard a mighty Noise in the Street. I was too much afflict­ed with my own Concerns, to trou­ble my self with other Peoples; but the Duke put his Head out of the Window, to see if the Disorder which made so much noise was not caus'd by his own Footmen. It seems they did not begin it; but hearing a pretty way off what a [Page 62]Bustle there was at my Gate, they ran thither, and without discerning Friend from Foe, struck every bo­dy at random that was in their way. In the heat of the Tumult I distinguish'd a Man's Voice that was not unknown to me, who call'd all the Servants by their Names whom my Husband left with me when he went away; but they were not there to answer, for I had turn'd them all going. You may guess how sur­pris'd I was to hear them so called upon, and could not apprehend who it should be; but that Night, to my sorrow, produc'd nothing but astonishing, mischievous Acci­dents.

While I was attentive to this Voice, I saw my Husband come in like a Man whose Fury had over­come his Reason; he fell upon all that stood in his way, and without any respect for the Duke, was run­ning full tilt at him, if his loss of Blood had not weakned him so, as [Page 63]to make him fall down. When he came out of his Swoon, his Ser­vants carried him into his Chamber, and put him to Bed; and then his Valet de Chambre told me he had been two days in Town, and had a mind to come home alone to sur­prise me. This was all the Fellow could tell me, for he knew no more; but this was enough to make me think I should stand in need of the Duke's Protection, which he pro­mis'd me; and I sent for a Relation of my Husband's, to desire him to endeavour to get out of him what Reason he had to be so transported against me. This Man, who was always kind enough to me, hapned to come to him just as the Chyrur­geons had done dressing him the first time. How dangerous soever it was for him to speak much, he would needs tell his Kinsman all he knew, and desir'd him to get me secur'd in a Convent, till he had consulted with my Relations what [Page 64]to do with me. But now, Madam, I must tell you what most of all inrag'd him against me. You have already heard, that he gave the King an Account of his Expedition, who receiv'd him graciously, and gave him leave to stay a Week at Paris, The two first Days he was at the President's, who forgot nothing that could load me; and to make me appear more criminal to the World, they contriv'd my Husband should suffer himself to be set upon by Fel­lows hir'd for that purpose, that they might have colour to give out I would have had him murder'd. It fell out so, that the Duke's Foot­men wounded him, while their Ma­ster was with me; however, he would make no use of this Impo­sture against any body but me, and when he complain'd most of so hor­rid a Design, still he justified the Duke, because if he should accuse him, he knew it would be difficult to make People believe it. My [Page 65]Husband's Kinsman advis'd me pru­dently to retire, before he had fresh Orders to secure me. I took his Counsel, and putting up my Jewels, and some Money, I went to the Countess of— who receiv'd me with a great deal of Generosity. As­ter she had said all that could com­pose my Mind, she dexterously took an opportunity to reprove me for having so little care of my Reputa­tion; but it was in so noble a man­ner, and so gently, that she made me repent my Folly, without put­ting me out of countenance.

My Husband's Wound did not prove so dangerous as was believ'd at first; but as fast as that mended, his Anger increased: so that I found my self necessitated not only to quit Paris, but the Kingdom like­wise. I resolv'd therefore to put my self into the Protection of the Dut­chess of Savoye. The Duke approv'd my Design, and the charitable Countess gave me Letters of Re­commendation [Page 66]to the most consi­derable Persons in that Court, where she was well acquainted.

I went by the Name of Madam de Courcilly, and took three Places in the Flying-Coach for Lyons, for my self, and a Maid that was newly come to me, and a Man call'd Ber­nard, of whose Fidelity and Discre­tion I had some experience: The rest of the Coach was hir'd by the Ab­bess of Bly, two Nuns, and a rich Banquier of Genoa nam'd Hierony­mo Spichetti.

By what I have related to you, Madam, you may imagine my Thoughts could not chuse but dwell upon the troublesom Accidents of my past Life, and those I was then further exposing my self to; and yet that which made me most me­lancholy, was the remembrance of the little Concern the Duke ex­press'd to part with me, which was more grievous to me than all my Husband's ill Usage; to see my self [Page 67]without Lovers, rendred me the most forlorn wretched Creature in the World; and by the coldness of his Adieu, I found his Heart was no longer mine. While these idle things ran in my Head, the Abbess of Bly bethought her self of enter­taining the Company with my Sto­ry, which I had the pleasure to hear her tell at length, with such false ridiculous Circumstances, that I was twenty times about about to inter­rupt he, and tell her she was mista­ken. Judge what a perplexity I was in, when addressing her self to me, she would needs have me agree with her, that I was the most faulty Woman upon Earth. This made me so uneasie, that at last I was fore'd to tell them a Story of a Cock and a Bull, to turn the Discourse.

Now, Madam, pray observe the wonderful Events of my Destiny: At the very first place we baited at, who should I see come into the Inn, but the Marquis of St.—? [Page 68]You may think, perhaps, he came by my appointment: No, upon my word, it was perfect Accident brought him thither; for he was going to Turin, to Complement their Royal Highnesses from the King, upon the Recovery of the Dutchess of Savoy. The truth is, finding a Place empty in the Coach, he discharg'd his Post-horses, and took it, without ever dreaming to meet with me. As soon as I knew it, I reason'd the Case with Ber­nard, whether I should discover my self or no: and we concluded it impossible I should be long con­ceal'd, though I took never so much care. Well, I got up into the Coach without discovering my self, and did not speak one Word for fear he should know my Voice: But the Abbess of Bly was not so silent; for we had hardly gone a Mile, but she ask'd the Marquis whether he knew the Story of the Lady who would have murder'd her Husband? He [Page 69]answer'd, He had not heard of it yet: Upon which, she, who knew it so well by heart, began it over again in the same Terms, without omitting one Syllable: But when she came to name me, he bid her hold her tongue; or if she must tell Tales, she might find enough in her own Convent, without going any further for them. This work'd as I would have it; for the Abbess then gave over, and we had scarce a Word spoken among us all the rest of that day: And I will own, Ma­dam, I was sensibly oblig'd to the Marquis for rescuing me so nobly from the Abbesses ill Language. It hapned, before we came to the Place where we were to lodge that Night, there was a necessity of alighting to walk over a dange­rous part of the Way, because it was dark. I staid in the Coach, and the Men went out. The Marquis then perceiving Bernard belong'd to me, ask'd him who I was; and was over­joy'd [Page 70]to learn I was the Person he lov'd and valu'd so much, and whom he had defended against the Abbess; but he was too discrect to speak to me, till he saw his time. When we came to the Inn, he gave me his Hand to help me out of the Coach as a Stranger; and as he had me to the Chamber where the Nuns and I were to lie, told me softly how glad he was to meet with me, and how happy he should be to serve me. Spichetti was as zealous to wait upon me as the Marquis; but I did not give him the same Encou­ragement. Less than this was sus­ficient to set the Abbesses and her Nuns Tongues upon Wheels, who were vex'd to see they had more time allow'd them to say their Prayers than they cared for. At last we came to Lyons, where ha­ving no Acquaintance, the Marquis and I took Lodgings in a very good part of the Town, which the Itali­an directed us to; who, not to be­lie [Page 71]his Country, watch'd us very narrowly; and guessing by the Mar­quisses Deportment, and my Beha­viour to him, that we knew one another before, he no longer doubt­ed but we had agreed upon this Meeting. But he cunningly dis­sembled both this, and whatever other Reasons he had to be so inqui­sitive after me; and he and the Marquis contracted a Friendship, at least outwardly.

It being very indecent for me to go along with the Marquis to Turin, Spicketti told him he would take care of my Journey, and save me the trouble of passing the Alps, which on the French side especially are very troublesom, by reason both of their Heighth, and the excessive Cold. Though he was not yet perfectly inform'd of my Affairs, he knew I avoided the Persecution of my Husband: So that joyning his Conjectures to my Silence, which he observ'd when the Abbess [Page 72]related my Story, he no longer doubted who I was; but took no notice of what he thought, either to me or the Marquis. All he said to him, was, That he would shew me Provence, and bring me into Savoy by the way of Italy; that leaving Lyons when he did, and going down the Rhosne, we should be at Turin a Fortnight after him. I was well enough pleas'd to see Provence, and therefore embrac'd his Proposition, so much the rather too, because he said his own Business requir'd him to be at Turin by that time: So we went by Water from Lyons to Avig­non. But I must not forget to tell you, Madam, that my Man Bernard was much troubled to see me trust my self so easily in Spichetti's hands. His Kindness and Care had so far opened his Eyes, as to make him often repine at my Indiscretion; but there was no avoiding what was destin'd for me.

When we came to Avignon, Spi­chetti [Page 73]lodg'd me at a very fine Castle which belong'd to a Friend of his; it stood in the Popes Territories, a­bout two Miles out of Town, where he shew'd me all that was worth see­ing there. After I had been there three Days, I told him it was time to be gone; I do not intend, Madam, said he to me, to take the pains to put you into my Rivals power. These words struck me like a Thunder­bolt, and made me perceive into what ill circumstances I had brought my self. They were follow'd by a bundance more which serv'd to de­clare his love; that nothing was so difficult but he would attempt it to gain my favour, or so violent but he would do, if I repuls'd him. I would not own that I believ'd him in earnest, and turn'd all he said to Gallantry, and Flattery; but that would not serve my turn, for he persecuted me without intermission, at that rate that I was several times reduc'd to the utmost extremi­ties [Page 74]to escape the effects of his bru­tish Passion. Till now, Madam, I had tasted too much of the satis­faction of loving, and being belov'd: Here it was my Fortune to be pla­gued by a Man who was my aver­sion; for I hated Spichetti mortally. If I shew'd him the least kindness imaginable, that fed his hopes; if I treated him ill, that provok'd him; so that nothing but a perfect Mi­racle, or Death could put an end to my misfortunes. Bernard, who took upon him to be my Privy Counsellor, reproach'd me for not followinig his advice, that I protest I was never in so perplex'd a condi­tion in my life. At last, Hieronimo calling me one day by my right name, told me, he knew all my Ad­ventures, and if I did not resolve to comply with his desires in a week, he would send my Husband word where I was, and look so narrowly to me in the mean time, that I should find it impossible to escape [Page 75]out of his Hands. I did all I could to perswade him I was not the Per­son he took me for; but it would not do, he knew all my concerns, though I could never learn how he came to be so perfectly inform'd. The miserable condition I was re­duc'd to, made me think of nothing now but dying, which I resolv'd to do rather than satisfy the beastly de­sires of this filthy Italian. How­ever, I thought I was bound to try all means of delivering my self, be­fore I gave my self quite over to de­spair, and so set my self to consider what was possibly to be done to ob­tain my liberty.

First, then I took my Jewels, and Bill of Exchange for a conside­rable Sum, and some ready Money I had left, with the Letters of Re­commendation to the Dutchess of Savoy, and gave them all to Ber­nard when Spichetti was out of the way; then telling him, he should be my Governour for the future, I [Page 76]begg'd him to invent some means to free me from the violence which my Tyrant threatned me with. To effect which the better, we agreed he should pretend to leave me, which he presently put in executi­on, and corrupted the Gardner of the Castle where I was, which in­abled him to give me notice how his indeavours succeeded.

The Day which Spichetti set me, now drawing near, without any hopes of escaping, it came into my Head to desire a little longer time, which he was easily perswaded to grant, because I made him believe his perseverance had made some progress in my Heart. He took this opportunity to try if he could dazle me with his Wealth, which he set forth with such advantage as would have gone a great way with any Woman but my self, but his of­fers were thrown away upon me. I had but one Day left now, which Spichetti impatiently waited for, [Page 77]when I had notice every thing was ready for my deliverence; which was thus: I was to get out of my Window into the Garden by a Cord Ladder; in the Gardners House there were two Suits of Mens Clothes for me and my Maid, and Bernard was to wait for me with Horses an hundred paces from thence. Though this design was well enough contriv'd, yet he might have justly questioned the success of it, if he had consider'd Hieronimo was an Italian, in Love, jealous, and suspicious; and such Monsters are hard to be impos'd up­on in things of this importance; but great dangers require strong re­solutions. One thing happen'd to my advantage; Spichetti was taken with a violent Fever, and grew light-headed, but not so bad as to hinder him from ordering me to be lock'd up in my Chamber. This caution was to no purpose, for I got away as we had contriv'd, and tra­vel'd [Page 78]all Night without knowing what Road we were in. At last, when day broke we found our selves on the top of a Mountain from whence we discover'd a great many more, which compos'd an extraordi­nary pleasant solitude. We kept on till Sun-rise, through untrodden Paths which brought us to an Her­mitage that stood in a very melan­choly place.

The charitable Hermits whom I found there, made me as welcome as they could; I had never been on Horseback before; was very weary, and wanted rest. The eldest of the Hermits led me into a little neat Cell, where I slept for some time; for my Mind was so disturb'd, that I soon wak'd, and found out my good Host, who had got some Herbs, and Fruit for me to eat, whose cleanly dressing made up what they wanted in abundance. Summer was just now coming on, and if I had had but the least inclination to [Page 79]spend my life in a Desart, far from the noise, and communication of the World, I should have been much more delighted with this solitude; but alas! I was in no condition to hearken to the Musick of the Birds, to try the neighbouring Eccho's, or to consider the Beauty of the Rocks; my Head was taken up with other cares. The Hermit, who applied himself to entertain me, soon per­ceiv'd I was melancholy, and took occasion to say whatever he thought might comfort me. I observ'd more Understanding and Politeness in his Discourse than usally Hermits are Masters of, but what most sur­priz'd me, was, that after he had looked stedfastly upon me, he told me, the Clothes I wore did not be­long to my Sex. I should have thought he had discover'd it by my Complexion, or my Shape, but that continuing to look upon me, he added, that Love had caused all the miseries of my Life. He ask'd [Page 80]me the Minute of my Nativity, which I told him as near as I could, and then he spoke of several things in general to me, which gave me warning to take heed of.

Though what he said was very serious, yet I could not forbear laughing, for I could not fancy I should be the happier, or unhappier for being born a Minute sooner, or later. For all that he inlarg'd his Discourse upon the future, and his Predictions have prov'd very true. I thought it now time to take leave of the Hermit, and was inquiring of him what place I might safely re­tire to, where I might hear how my Affairs went in the World, when my Woman who lay asleep upon the ground, was bitten by a Scor­pion: This accident forc'd me to stay two days longer in the Desart, during which time the Hermit was so civil as to relate his Life to me, which discover'd him to be a Man of Quality. His Story had a great [Page 81]many extraordinary events in it; but I have so many to tell you that relate to my self, that I shall take notice of the Hermit's no otherwise than as they fall into my own Re­lation. At last, My dear Child, said he to me, you see an unhappy Man, who once gave himself wholly over to the World, the remembrance of which serves only to renew my repentance of those extravagances, and errours, which her dangerous maxims ingag'd me in. The Knowledge I have of the disgraces which attend those who are not yet wean'd from her, makes me pity your misfortunes, and prompts me to serve you. I have a Friend about two Leagues off, with whom you may stay with more convenience, and decency, than in our retirement. There you may safely learn what you would be inform'd of, for I will go to Avignon, and enquire what is be­come of Spichetti, and settle a Cor­respondence with a Friend of his, and mine, that I may know what his [Page 82]Designs are. Besides I must tell you, the place where I would have you take refuge, is as pleasant as this, and ce­lebrated upon many accounts. You cannot but have heard of Vaucluse, which was heretofore the dwelling of the famous Petrarch, and his charm­ing Laura. There you will see that wonderful Spring near which so many excellent Verses have been made; but if those objects have so much effect upon you, as to make you remember the Loves of that Poet, and his Mi­stress, they ought also at the same time to put you in mind, that all things in this World perish and fade, since there remains nothing more of them than such wretched imperfect Footsteps. I besought the Hermit to relate the Loves of Petrarch, and when I had heard them, was more impatient than before of see­ing his Habitation.

Before I took my leave of him, he gave me a Letter to his Friend, and a Book of Petrach's Poems in Italian, [Page 83]for which, and the rest of his favors I thank'd him with all the marks of gratitude I could express. He gave Bernard a strict charge not to forsake me, and then shew'd us the Way that would bring us to Vau­cluse. At Night we came to Ma­dam de Mezelon's (so was the Lady call'd to whom he recommended me) whose House is but a quarter of a League from the Fountain. This Lady, though something in years, had a good Presence, and such remainders of Beauty still as shew'd she had been handsom in her Youth. She was well dress'd, with­out being taudry, and neat with­out affectation. I had sent Bernard before to deliver her the Letter from her Friend, and she received it very kindly; I was so lucky as to please her at first sight, and she used me with a great deal of respect. The good Hermit in his Letter acquain­ted her with my Quality, and my Disguise, and injoyned her Secrecy [Page 84]in both, which she promis'd me, and I found her as good as her Word. When I came to her first, she pre­sented her Daughter to me, whom I saluted like a Cavalier, but with that disorder as you may imagine such an unusual Compliment put me into. She was exceeding handsom, and I found afterwards her Mind was as charming as her Face. Af­ter the first Ceremonies were over, I could not but take notice of the deep sorrow that hung both upon the Mother and Daughter, occa­sion'd by the loss of her Brother, who was kill'd at the Siege of Can­die, the remembrance of which of ten renewed their Tears, for they both describ'd him to be a Man of extraordinary merit.

The habitual Melancholy I had contracted, having lessen'd my na­tural Chearfulness, I became a very suitable Companion for Madam de Mezelon, and her Daughter; and we enter'd into a strict Friendship, but [Page 85]upon different grounds: for the Mo­ther knew who I was, but her Daughter did not, and so, in spight of all she could do to resist it, could not help falling into a violent Pas­sion for me. My Fate thus, rather than my Desert, brought Love to meet me in whatever Shape I was. After I had been some days at Me­zelon, I sent Bernard away to Turin to enquire after the Marquis de St.—and to see of there were any likeli­hood of my being there conveni­ently during my Exile. I wrote also to Paris, and Madam de Meze­lon gave me a Direction to Sorgues, by which I might have Answers to my Letters. Poor Bernard could not leave me without a great deal of sorrow, and could not forbear coming back again twenty times, to give me the best Advice he could for my Health, my Safety, and my Behaviour. When he was gone, I went to see Vaucluse, and that de­lightful Abode made me consider [Page 86]all the Places which Petrarch and Laura had chosen there to spend the sweetest Moments of their Love, and Life too, in so blessed a Retire­ment. I said to my self, I had ne­ver been truly happy; for my De­sign to please others, had hitherto depriv'd me of the inchanting Plea­sures which proceed from the Uni­on of two Hearts sincerely affected to one another.

Lovely Feliza (so was Madam de Mezelon's Daughter nam'd) had a Woman to wait on her call'd The­resa, who had Wit enough; both these young Women did all that lay in their power to divert me; we went every day towards Vau­cluse, because that sweet Place fur­nish'd us with Discourse of what had formerly hapned there. I under­stood Italian, but Feliza and The­resa had not enough to read Pe­trarch's Poems; therefore I explain­ed to them, with abundance of plea­sure, all the tender, moving things [Page 87]in them. Feliza, who was as much delighted to hear me, still look'd so languishingly upon me, that I, who was not to learn that silent Lan­guage, quickly apprehended the meaning of her Eyes; but I seem'd however not to understand her, and wish'd a thousand times she might never discover her Thoughts more plainly to me. But all to no pur­pose; for poor Feliza could not for­bear making a Declaration of Love to me. I entertain'd it with as much confusion as she made it; and as Lovers are ingenious in tormenting themselves, she fancied my Heart was prepossess'd with some other Object; and her Jealousie and Love together brought such a Melancho­ly upon her, that it injur'd her Beauty, and made me really pity her. Her Mother perceiv'd what was the Cause of her Melancholy, as well as I; for she had been ac­quainted with the Mysteries of Love: but apprehending no Incon­venience [Page 88]in her Daughters Kindness to me, she would not undeceive her, by discovering my Disguise. For my part, I could not find in my heart to abuse her any longer; but desiring Madam de Mezelon to amuse Theresa, while I spoke with her Daughter, I went one day into her Chamber. I found her alone, lean­ing her Head upon her Left-hand, her Eyes fix'd upon the Ground, in a Posture exactly proper to express Melancholy. The Habit under which I cover'd my Sex made her scrupulous of being so near me alone as I desir'd, and therefore she rose up to call Theresa; but I laid hold of her Gown, and staid her. My dear Feliza, said I to her, I conjure you by all the marks of Friendship you have hitherto shewn me, to let me speak with you a little in private. Alas! answer'd Feliza, What can you say to me, which my ill Fortune does not already too well inform me of? I would undeceive you, replied I, of [Page 89]the Opinion you have, that I am in­sensible of the Affection you have ex­press'd to me; and withal give you the greatest Proof of mine you can ever receive. At these Words she look'd up, to discover in my Eyes, if she could, what I had to say to her; and by the languishing of hers, I could easily perceive her Heart was really touch'd: At last I own'd to her, I could make her no Re­turn for her Love but my Friend­ship, and discover'd to her I was a Woman. But, Madam, in stead of quieting her Mind, at present this did but disturb her more. The con­fusion she was in for having open'd her Thoughts to me, made her blush; and her Circumstances were very strange, that she should be torment­ed with a Passion, which she could not stifle, though she had never yet been fed with any Hopes, and now knew it was impossible for me to sa­tisfie her.

I did all I could to convince her, [Page 90]that no Pleasure is so refin'd and lasting as mutual Friend ship; which she had much ado to believe: but at last in a few days her Reason wrought more with her, than all the Advice I could give her then: She overcame her Inclination, which I found next time I saw her had cost her some Tears. From thence for­wards she grew reconciled to my Sex, and we spent above fifteen days together in a great deal of Tranquillity and Happiness. We walk'd one Evening to the Foun­tain at Vaucluse, where after a long Discourse upon different Subjects, at last I fell asleep with my Head up­on Feliza's Knees: At the same time two Horsemen pass'd by us; Feliza did not know who they were, be­cause they turn'd their Faces ano­ther way, and were not near enough to view them distinctly; yet one one of them brought the Image of that dear Brother, whom she loved so tenderly, into her Mind. She [Page 91]wak'd me to shew him me; and though I saw him a good way off, I thought him an handsom Man.

When we came home again, we went into Madam de Mezelon's Chamber, who was quite over­whelm'd with Grief. Ah, Cheva­lier, said she to me, (for so I desir'd her to call me) am I not very mise­rable? My Afflictions began to wear away with time, and I found my self under a necessity of submitting pati­ently to the loss of my Son, when word was brought me, that he was seen pass by an hundred Paces off the House, just in the same Garb as when he took his leave of me. The tender Mother could not forbear weeping afresh at a Remembrance so dear, and yet so afflicting; then we told her what we had seen, which ad­ded exceedingly to her Sorrow. I had much ado to pacifie her, telling her there were many People so like one another, that it was easie to be deceiv'd. I kept with her till mid­night, [Page 92]and was retiring to my Chamber, when the Porter brought me a Note that was deliver'd him for me, in which I found these Words.

I Am resolv'd not to come into an House which you have dishonour'd, till I have made your Life pay for your Ingratitude. My own Eyes have been Witnesses of that Disgrace which Honour obliges me to wash off in your Blood; and I have besides too good Proofs of your Villany, ever to believe the contrary. I will expect you to morrow at Sun-rising, at the same Place where I saw you yesterday with my unworthy Sister. Fail not to be there, to satisfie my just Revenge, unless you would have me do some­thing that may be worse for you.

Judge, Madam, how surpris'd I was to have a thing of this nature upon my Hands. I easily guess'd the Cause of it, and immediately [Page 93]went and shew'd the Challenge to Madam de Mezelon, who was over­joy'd at it. She waited impatient­ly for Day-light, to go to the Place appointed, whither she went alone, and though she was his Mother, was sain to bear with her Son's Re­proaches, for it was really He. She smil'd at what he said, and you may believe was not angry to see him so sensible of Honour. After she had let him go on a little while in his Mistake, she undeceiv'd him, by tel­ling him part of my Story, and the Secret of my Sex, which was now between the Mother, the Daughter, and the Son. He aggravated the trouble it was to him, to see his Si­ster suffer a Man to sleep in her Lap; and added, he was just about to come and kill us both upon the Place, but that thinking his Sister might be married in his absence, he resolv'd to inform himself well, be­fore he committed so violent an Action; that he applied himself to [Page 94]a Man who had lived heretofore in the House, who confess'd to him he saw me every day with Feliza about Vaucluse, and that all the Neighbourhood was scandalis'd at it.

Madam de Mezelon said a great many things to him to my advan­tage, and when she brought him in, presented me to him. What made the best sport, was, it was already current among all the Servants, that Mezelon had challeng'd me to fight with him; so that when he came to embrace me, the same People who believ'd we were Enemies, fan­cied I was married to his Sister, and that the Business was to be kept private.

After this first Interview, Meze­lon took some time to refresh him­self, and to put himself in a Condi­tion to appear decently before me. Well, Madam, what shall I say? The Brother too, as soon as he came home, thought as advantageously of [Page 95]me as his Sister did when I came thither first for Refuge. I was in Feliza's Chamber when he came to visit me, and that pretty Creature, either presagingly, or in raillery, told me, she was sure her Brother would not see me long without paying Homage to my Charms. As soon as he sate down, Well, dear Brother, said she to him, would you not think me as guilty now, as you did yesterday, if you did not know the Truth? Remember, Sister, an­swer'd Mezelon, I was not angry with you; for I think I forgave you in my Heart: But I question whether I shall not have more cause to com­plain of this Cavalier, than before, and carry my Resentment so far, as to challenge him to give me another Meeting at Petrarch's Well. I am such a Coward still, said I, ever since last Night, that you may wait there for me again to no purpose, as you did this Morning. Truly, Madam, re­plied Mezelon, I believe if you had [Page 96]been in my place, you would have done what I did. Seeing an hand­som Man in a very familiar posture with my Sister, I inquir'd if they were married; and being told they were not, after that, I think — I find no fault with what you did, said I, interrupting him; I only wish it may teach you never to judge by bare Appearances, let them be never so strong.

In this Visit, which lasted a good while, I found Mezelon had a great deal of Wit; and those he made me afterwards, convinc'd me that he really loved me. How was it pos­sible, Madam, to breathe the Air of Vaucluse five or six Months, and not be sensible of Love? By what pass'd then in my Heart I plainly perceiv'd I had never yet been in Love, but had only suffer'd my self to be be­lov'd. I had not till now felt those pleasing pains which seize upon one's Heart before it is firmly de­termin'd to abandon it felf wholly [Page 97]to Love; I had always been igno­rant of the lively pleasures it injoys in the beginnings of a Passion; those trifles which have such great effects; in a Word, those little things which indifferent People call folly, but which make the most de­lightful employment of Lovers. I forgot all my misfortunes, the only one I fear'd was being forc'd to part with Mezelon. I would not so much as suppose that Bernard's return could ingage me to a Journey from thence; and I accommodated my Morals to my Love and often flatter'd my self, that the hatred my Husband shew'd to me, was a sufficient Dispensation from my Conjugal Faith. In short, Madam, I forbore nothing but what came too close both upon my own Honour as well as his, and made no manner of scruple of all the rest.

Most Women in the World, if they were sincere, would freely own [Page 98]what I confess now; for I do not believe I am the first Example in this kind. Mezelon's Return brought a great many People of Quality to see him, for he was generally be­loved, and all who came were de­lighted to hear the Description of his supposed Death and Resurrecti­on, which we had not yet got from him. Being one Evening with his Mother, and Sister, and one of his Kinswomen, we put him upon the Relation of his Adventures in Candie, which he comply'd with in these Terms.

The History of Me­zelon.

I Went on Roard the Duke of Beau­fort's Ship, and I cannot tell you, Ladies, whether our Voyage was stor­my or calm; all I can say, is, That I was sick all the while I was at Sea, [Page 99]never was upon the Deck till we saw Candie; and the Inconvenience I suffer'd during the whole Passage, hin­dred me from learning any of the Sea-terms. As soon as I landed, I quickly recovered my Health again, and made it my Business to be as near the General as I could, whose Example was sufficient to inspire us all with generous Emulation. You must needs be inform'd of what pass'd at the Siege by the Publick News, so that I shall not enter into the Par­ticulars, which cannot but be tedious to those that know them already: I suppose it is my Story, and not that of the Turks, or the Venetians, you desire to learn; therefore I shall tell you, That in the lost Battel I was dangerously wounded I was, I said before, near the Duke of Beaufort's Person, who had sent his Aydes de Camp to carry his Orders into seve­ral parts of the Field; he command­ed me also to bring on some Troops to [Page 100]sustain a Battalion which began to give ground to the Enemy. When I had executed his Orders, I return'd, but could not find him any where, and immediately it was reported a­mong us that he was kill'd. I thrust my self in among the thickest, to learn the truth, and got nothing for my pains but two deep Wounds upon my Head and my Shoulder, which how­ever kept me not from being one of the last that made good their Retreat into the Town. The ill success of this Day made them refuse to let me into my Quarters; being much wounded, and not yet dress'd, I was in great distress, not knowing where to go, and was beginning to faint, when the Pa­triarch of Candie, and his eldest Daughter, lighting upon me in that Condition, charitably took me into their House. Their Assistance came very seasonably; but what was then [...] to me, was like afterwards [...] me.

[Page 101] The Patriarch's Daughter, whose Name was Eustochia, dress'd my Wounds, and I had reason to thank her for her Care; but I have always held this Maxim, That Benesits re­ceiv'd from a Fair Hand, are more obliging than those we receive from a Deformed Object. Eustochia was one of the last; for she had the ugliest Face I ever saw, which she conceal'd from me as much as she could; and my Covntry-men em­barqu'd, and sail'd away, without my knowing of it. I was reckon'd among the Slain, because I had not appear'd in the Town since the Battel; and my Host durst not own he had resus'd to take me in: so that our Forces went away, and I was left behind.

When I was cured, Eustochia look'd upon my Heart as a due Recompence for the good Offices she had dene me; but though I ow'd her a great deal, I could not extend my Gratitude so sar. She had a Sister, indeed, to [Page 102]whom I would willingly have been be­holden for my Life, and without that Tie, would have been glad to have discharg'd to her the Obligations I had to Eustochia; who perceiving I look'd kindly on her, and guessing what Thoughts she had inspir'd me with, immediately chang'd her Love into Hatred, and a desire of destroy­ing me. As nothing can be more Amo­rous than the Heart of a Greek, so nothing is more Violent than their Resentment. The Town surrendred, as you have heard; and the Turks made their Victorious Entry into it. Eustochia got acquainted with a Ja­nizary who deplor'd the loss of his Brother, that was kill'd in the last Fight; she inform'd her self what kind of Man he was, what Station he had in the Army, and then told him a few days after, she believ'd I had kill'd him. The Janizary, without considering there was no likelihood of her knowing what she told him, [Page 103]thought of nothing but revenging his Brother's Death, and express'd great earnestness to have me in his power; which she engag'd to bring about, But her charitable Sister discovering her Design, would not suffer me to perish so unjustly; and there being no time to be lost, took a Resolution as bold, as it was generous.

She knew her Father was too weak a Man to oppose Eustochia's Intenti­ons, and so it would be Labour lost to meddle with him: But understanding [...] let the Treaty of Capitulation be in­fring'd, especially in any thing that concern'd our Nation, she order'd her Business so as to be brought before him, and spoke to him thus in Greek, which he understood very well. I come, Sir, said she to him, to desire Ju­stice, not against any of your Sol­diers, or the Officers of your Army, but against my own Sister, whose wicked Mind has preval'd with her [Page 104]to commit so black an Action, as I cannot think of it without horrour. A young Frenchman lay at my Fa­ther's House: It is true, my Sister, seeing his Life in a great deal of danger, took a great deal of care of him, and has cured him of two despe­rate Hurts; but now, to her shame, and his almost unavoidable destru­ction, she has chang'd her mind, and would take away that Life she has preserv'd. And so to add Imposture to her Eury she has made the Jani­zary Ach [...]aec [...] Frenchman kill'd his Brother in the last Sally, and has promis'd to put this innocent Victim into his Hands, which she sacrifices more to her own Revenge, than to Achi­dec's Grief. Begin now, Sir, to establish an Opinion of your Equi­ty, and take some speedy course, that my Sister may not have leisure to execute her cruel Resolution.

Augusta (so was my Preserver [Page 105]nam'd) pronounc'd these Words with so much Grace and Courage, that they moved the Grand Vizir, who immedi­ately sent me an Officer, and twenty Soldiers; and they came very seaso­nably to me, for an hour later Au­gusta's Pity would have done me no good. I was brought before the Vi­zir, who was pleas'd not to dislike me: He had French enough to un­derstand me; but he speaks it not himself. Though I do not sing very well, Eustochia and Augusta were sometimes delighted with my Voice. The last of them knowing the Grand Vizir lov'd Musick, let him know, that if he would command me to sing, I was capable of diverting him: So that after he had ask'd me several Questions concerning the Person and the Conquests of our Great Monarch, he fell insensibly upon the Address of the French, and the Perfection to which they have improv'd all Arts; particularly, Poetry, and Musick. [Page 106]From this, he apply'd himself to me, and with surprising Civility told me, he was inform'd I could sing, and believ'd I would not deny him the satisfaction of letting him hear me. I had learnt some of the famous Lambert's Tunes, which I sang to him the best I could, and had cer­tainly offended more curious Ears; but the Vizir was very well satisfied with me. He sent for Achidec, and commanded him to do me no Injury; nay, farther, took the pains to tell him, That what Eustochia had said to him, was onely to make him the Instrument of her Revenge; it being impossible for her to know, with any certainty, that I had kill'd his Brother.

After that, the Vizir dismiss'd me, giving me a very fine Scimitar at parting. Perhaps you may have heard, that one of the Articles of the Capitulation ran, That those Candiots who had no mind to live [Page 107]under the Government of the Turks, should have a Months time to with­draw whither they pleas'd. Some of them went into Sicily, and others into Italy: for my part, I design'd to embarque with those who saild in­to Sicily, where the Messineses be­gan to take Arms; but when I men­tion'd it to my pretty Augusta, her Tears and Sighs overcame all my Re­solutions. I promis'd her not to for­sake her, and assur'd her should always dispose how she thought fit of a Life she had so generously pre­serv'd.

The inraged Eustochia set her Wits at work again to destroy me, and had like to have succeeded, as you shall hear. You may be sure, af­ter I got out of the Patriarch's House, I went thither no more. Au­gusta desir'd a Kinsman of hers to provide me a Lodging, where I might be while I staid there. Eustochia having notice of it, cunningly suborn'd [Page 108]a Turk to ruine me; she told him, he must get acquainted with me, and then put me upon Discourse of Religi­on. This Turk understood Italian, which she knew I spoke; and that made her pitch upon him. It is such an unpardonable Crime for a Chri­stian to talk to a Turk about matters of Religion, that now she thought she had laid an unavoidable Snare for me.

The Turk thus instructed, made it his Business to be acquainted with me; to insinuate himself into me, and make me the less shy of talking with him, he now and then did me some small Kindness or other. At last, after several Discourses upon indif­ferent Subjects, he drew me on by degrees to dispute with him about the Mysteries of our Faith; which I did, without the least thought of convin­cing him of those Truths, because I had always observ'd him to be an ob­stinate Believer of the Alcoran. [Page 109]However, he so well remembred what I had said of our Religion, that he did not lose one word; and then, as he and Eustochia had agreed, went to the Grand Vizir, and inform'd him that I endeavour'd to convert him. Never the least dreaming of this Design against me, as I was coming one day from Augusta, I was seis'd by twelve Turks, who by force dragg'd me into a dark Prison, abu­sing me all the way, as I guess'd by their usage of me; for I understood not their Language. Augusta hear­ing of my Misfortune, presumed once more to go to the Grand Vizir, whom she endeavoured to persuade, that all this was but a continuation of her Sisters implacable Fury against me. She represented me very incapable of the Crime I was accused of, and be­sought him to suspend his Judgment, till she could find out some means to clear the Truth. My Person and Voice had not been so disagreeable to [Page 110]him, but that, as good luck would have it for me, he remembred both, and allow'd her twelve Days to ju­stifie me in. But fearing her Sister would make use of the Patriarch's Authority to hinder her Endeavours, she retired to a Relation's House of hers, that she might be at liberty to go abroad when she pleas'd.

Several Days pass'd without her being able to learn any thing that could help her to serve me; and the Term which the Grand Vizir set be­ing ready to expire, all the Town expected to see me Impall'd; when a young Wench, that liv'd in the Pa­triarch's House, came to see Augu­sta in her Retreat, and told her, that Eustochia often convers'd with the Turk whom she had corrupted. Augusta presently engag'd the Maid to declare what she knew before the Vizir, and then went to desire him to confront me with my Accuser. This Minister immediately caus'd me to [Page 111]be brought before him, and sending for Eustochia and the Turk, com­manded him by Alla to speak the Truth, and what had moved him to accuse me in that manner. My Pre­sence, and the Oath he was oblig'd to take, so stagger'd him, that he con­fess'd Eustochia had hir'd him to say what he did against me; that indeed I had talk'd with him of the Christian Religion, but that he began the Discourse; and that far from using any Arguments to convert him, I had onely answered the Questions he put to me. The Grand Vizir thus satisfied of my Innocence, condemn'd the Turk to the same Punishment which was intended for me, He re­prov'd Eustochia severely, commend­ed Augusta's Generosity, and set me at Liberty. And knowing the Pa­triarch was angry with Augusta for leaving him without his Consent, he oblig'd him to forgivt her. I press'd him earnestly to pardon the Turk, [Page 112]but to no purpofe; all I could get from him was, That such Ossences as those were not to be forgiven.

From this time forwards Augusta was urgent with me to forsake a place where soon or late I should certainly come to some mischief. I follow'd her advice, extreamly griev'd to leave her expos'd to her Sisters ha­tred. I express'd all the gratitude to her at parting, which she might justly claim from an Heart fo truly sensible of all the extraordinary fa­vours she had done me. I set Sail with some Candiots, who chose to re­tire into Sicily, and arriv'd there without any accident. I staid there but a week, taking the opportunity of returning into France upon a Mer­chant-Man that brought Silks from Messina. You may imagine my Equi­page was not very splended, all I had in the World was the Scimiter the Grand Vizir gave me: But when I came to Toulon, I made what haste I [Page 113]could to get to Marsellis, where I met with a Merchant who furnished me with Money, and Clothes, and and Horses for my self, and my Ser­vant. After some small stay there, I came directly hither, where consi­dering the report that was spread of my Death, I question not but my re­turn is very surprizing.

Mezelon having concluded his Re­lation, we spent some time in ask­ing him abundance of Questions, all [...] answered with a great deal of Wit, which furnish'd us with Discourse enough, especially about Augusta, on which Subject I pinch'd him pretty close.

At last, Madam, Bernard came back to me; he had been at Yurin, and not finding the Marquis de St.— there, went from thence to Paris, though I gave him no order to do so; but the kindness he had for me, made him presume up­on [Page 114]on Priviledges which few of his rank are allow'd. He told me my Husband was gone from Paris, but no body knew which way; that the President was dead, and his Lady retir'd into a Convent, that the Prince lived Peaceably with his Wife; the Marquiss de St.— was despe­rately sick, and that the Duke had heard him relate what had happen­ed to me without betraying the least concern. I was as indifferent as he, and minded what Bernard told me but little; for I learnt no­thing by it [...] what had pass'd in my business, nor was a jot the wiser how to behave my self for the fu­ture. But the arrival of the good Hermit interrupted my satisfaction a little; he excus'd his not having writ, or sent to me, by reason of a Journey he was oblig'd to make as far as the Charterhouse of Grenoble. and told me at his return he had learnt that Spichetti was like to [Page 115]have died with grief, when he found I was escap'd from him; and when he was well of his Fever, writ word to my Husband, that if he would come to Avignon, he would put me into his Hands; that my Husband came thither Post, and both of them us'd their industry to discover where I was; that the Gardner being suspected to have as­sisted my flight, had been very ill handled, and had told them all he knew. And I believe, added the Hermit, if they continue to search for you, it will be no hard matter for them to find you here. I desi­red him at first to tell me what he had to say before Madam de Meze­lon, and her Son and Daughter, who with all the Civility in the World, assur'd me, I should suffer no vio­lence while I was there. Bernard dislik'd my trusting so many Peo­ple with my Business, and his me­lancholly upon that account made me [Page 116]bear with a great many of his ridi­culous Arguments. He perceiv'd too, there was a good understand­ing between Mezelon and me, which nothing but absence could hinder from proceeding further. There­fore he advis'd me to go from thence; but I wanted stronger Rea­sons to perswade me to that, than his Counsel: not but that I appre­hended I should be very miserable if my Husband once found me out; but I could not find in my Heart to leave a place where I lov'd, and was sure I was belov'd.

One day, as the Hermit and I were discoursing what was the best course for me to take, word was brought that some Strangers on Horseback desired to speak with Madam de Mezelon, and her Son. Feliza's Chamber, where I was, be­ing over against the Draw-bridge, whom should I see at the Gate but my Husband, and the Italian who conducted him thither?

[Page 117] I need not tell you, Madam, what Menaces to terrifie, and what Arguments he used to perswade Madam de Mezelon to deliver me to him. She resisted all he could say with equal constancy, and re­solved not to let me go, till his Rea­son had got the better of his Anger. My Husband had so little to object to her way of proceeding, that at last he begg'd of her to be the Me­diatrix between us, submitting all our differences to her, which she would by no means hear of till I gave my consent. You may be­lieve, Madam, my concerns were in too good hands to decline this of­fer; so that our reconciliation might not appear forc'd, my Husband was to withdraw for some days, af­ther which he and I were to have a meeting, at which Madam de Meze­lon should be present. Monsieur de Mezelon too gave his word, that I should not leave his House till our [Page 118]Agreement was perfectly conclu­ded, or came to nothing. The good Hermit, who was still at Mezelon, would not stir till he saw the issue of my Business, and was very ser­viceable in appeasing my Husbands Mind, and disposing him to be re­concil'd to me. But whether it were by Instinct, or particular Rea­sons, which he had ground for, when he took leave of him, he de­sir'd him not to be so open to every body, and to have a care whom he trusted.

The Italian was vex'd to the ve­ry Heart, to see how fair a way we were in towards an accommoda­tion, and therefore to keep it back as much as he could, he perswaded my Husband to go from Mezelon; but yet all the Reasons he could urge were insufficient to hinder him from returning at the day ap­pointed. I will assure you, Ma­dam, that how favourably soever I [Page 119]thought of Mezelon, I could not but be sensibly touch'd at my Hus­band's mildness, and condescention. He found me in my own Clothes, so modestly dress'd, that he had no cause to find any fault. The Testi­mony Madam de Mezelon gave him of my good behaviour, calm'd his Mind extreamly, and I had more reason to pitty him, than to appre­hend his displeasure. I endeavou­red to justifie my self in every thing had been told him, not omitting any Circumstance that I had been accused of; but what most surpriz'd him, was, my asking him to clear me of the imputation of designing to murther him. I freely confess'd I had too easily entertain'd the Prince's, the President's, and the Duke's Addresses; but when I ac­quainted him how Madam la Pre­sidente drew me into these kind of intrigues, and shew'd him how things really were, he was sorry he [Page 120]had left me expos'd to the Husbands Love, and the Wives counterfeit Virtue. He imputed all the errours of my Youth to the exceeding se­verity of the Rules he had pre­scrib'd, and his own wilfulness in forcing me to be so great with Ma­dam la Presidente. I forgot to tell you, that Spichetti dreaded my dis­covering to my Husband how he had persecuted me, and the Trai­tor had more weighty Reasons to keep him from coming along with him to Mezelon: And indeed when I did inform him how much the I­talian had injur'd me, all which I proved by the Hermit who had heard of it by other Hands, and by my own Servants who had been witnesses of his Villany, he appear­ed to be mightily troubled, and I needed to say little more to prevail with him to forgive all my extrava­gances; so that this interview, which was to have been only the forerun­ner [Page 121]of our Reconciliation, almost quite concluded it. I was really sorry for all my indiscreet Actions, and was disposing my self to spend the Remainder of my Life in such a manner as might efface all the ill Impressions he had entertain'd of me; when of a sudden he fell into a Swoon, which at first we attributed to the moving tender­ness of our Meeting; but we al­ter'd our Opinion, when coming to himself again, he complain'd of intolerable Pains, and then relaps'd so often into fainting Fits, that af­ter enduring two days continual Torment, they at last kill'd him.

He made a Will, in which he justified me of all he had laid to my Charge, and gave me all that the Law could allow me, on con­dition I should marry Monsieur de Mezelon. Having heard how faith­fully Bernard and my Woman had served me, he forgot not to re­ward them.

[Page 122] The more we examined his Di­stemper, the more reason we had to believe he was poyson'd; and he said something of it to him who was with him when he died. We had him open'd, and found evi­dent Tokens of the Poyson Spi­chetti had given him. I sent to Avignon to apprehend him, but Heaven had already taken care to punish him. He whom I sent, brought us word, that one of his own Servants had murder'd him, and was gone away with all his Money and Jewels.

My Husband's Death really af­flicted me; but Time, and the Con­solation every body endeavour'd to give me by degrees wip'd off my Tears. However, I would not marry again till his Will was perform'd; and though Mezelon press'd me ve­ry closely, I would not consent till I had been a Widow an whole year; and then, to the great joy of his [Page 123]Mother and Sister, I no longer de­ferr'd the Accomplishment of his Desires. Ever since, my onely Care has been to please my Hus­band, and by that means render my Life easie and innocent. After some Business I have here is di­spatch'd, I intend to go back to him again, and hope I shall never have occasion to be from him any more.

The Countess of Marignan was extremely satisfied with the Rela­tion Madam de Mezelon had enter­tain'd her with, admiring the vari­ous Accidents of her Life. But it growing late, she took leave of her, promising to meet her next day at the same Place, and recompense her with an Account of her own Story.

The End of the First Part.

A Catalogue of some Novels and Plays Printed for R. Bent­ley and S. Magnes.

NOVELS.
  • 1 ZElinda, a sam'd Romance.
  • 2 Happy Slave, in three Parts.
  • 3 Count Brion.
  • 4 Count Gabales.
  • 5 Hatige, or the Amours of the King of Tamaran.
  • 6 Mad. Lavalier and the King of France.
  • 7 Madam and the Duke of Guise.
  • 8 Mad. Colonna's Memoirs.
  • 9 Queen of Majork, two Parts.
  • 10 Don Sebastian King of Portugal.
  • 11 Heroine Musquetier.
  • 12 Princess of Cleves.
  • 13 Obliging Mistress.
  • 14 Fatal Prudence.
  • 15 Princess of Fez.
  • [Page] 16 Disorders of Love.
  • 17 Triumph of Love.
  • 18 Victorious Lovers.
  • 19 Almanzor and Almanzaida.
  • 20 Earl of Essex and Qu. Elizabeth.
  • 21 Neopolitan, or, the Defender of his Mistress.
  • 22 Nicostratis.
  • 23 Amorous Abbess.
  • 24 Homais Queen of Tunis.
  • 25 Pilgrim, in two Parts.
  • 26 Meroveus, Prince of the Blood-Royal of France.
  • 27 Life of the Duke of Guise.
  • 28 Extravagant Poet.
  • 29 Memoires Gallant.
  • 30 Instruction for a Young Noble-Man.
PLAYS.
  • 1 Tartuff, or the French Puritan.
  • 2 Forc'd Mariage, or the Jealous Bridegroom.
  • 3 English Monsieur.
  • 4 All mistaken, or the Mad Couple.
  • 5 Generous Enemies, or the Ridi­culous Lovers.
  • [Page] 6 The Plain-Dealer.
  • 7 Sertorius, a Tragedy.
  • 8 Nero, a Tragedy.
  • 9 Sophonisba, or Hannibal's Over­throw.
  • 10 Gloriana, or the Court of Au­gustus Caesar.
  • 11 Alexander the Great.
  • 12 Mithridates King of Pontus.
  • 13 Oedipus King of Thebes.
  • 14 Caesar Borgia.
  • 15 Theodosius, or the Force of Love.
  • 16 Madam Fickle, or the Witty False One.
  • 17 The Fond Husband, or the Plot­ting Sisters.
  • 18 Esquire Old-Sap, or the Night-Adventures.
  • 19 Fool turn'd Critick.
  • 20 Virtuous Wife, or Good Luck at last.
  • 21 The Fatal Wager.
  • 22 Andromache.
  • 23 Country Wit.
  • 24 Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph.
  • 25 Destruction of Jerusalem, in two Parts.
  • [Page] 26 Ambitious Statesman, or the Loyal Favourite.
  • 27 Misery of Civil War.
  • 28 The Murder of the Duke of Glocester.
  • 29 Thyestes, a Tragedy.
  • 30 Hamlet Prince of Denmark, a Tragedy.
  • 31 The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marriage.
  • 32 The Soldiers Fortune.
  • 33 Tamerlain the Great.
  • 34 Mr. Limber [...], or th [...] [...]d Keeper.
  • 35 Mistaken Husband.
  • 36 Notes of Morocco, by the Wits.
  • 37 Essex and Elizabeth, or the Un­happy Favourite.
  • 38 Virtue Betray'd, or Anna Bullen.
  • 39 King Leare.
  • 40 Abdellazor, or the Moor's Re­venge.
  • 41 Town-Fop, or Sir Tim. Tawdery.
  • 42 Rare en tout, a French Comedy.
  • 43 Moor of Venice.
  • 44 Country Wife.
  • [Page] 45 City Politicks.
  • 46 Duke of Guise.
  • 47 Rehearsal.
  • 48 King and no King.
  • 49 Philaster, or Love lies a Bleeding.
  • 50 Maids Tragedy.
  • 51 Grateful Servant.
  • 52 Strange Discovery.
  • 53 Atheist, or the Second Part of the Soldiers Fortune.
  • 54 Wit without Money.
  • 55 Little Thief.
  • 56 Valiant Scot.
  • 57 Constantine.
  • 58 Valentinian.
  • 59 Amorous Prince.
  • 60 Dutch Lovers.
  • 61 Woman Rules.
  • 62 Reformation.
  • 63 Hero and Leander.
  • 64 Love-Tricks.
  • 65 Julius Caesar.
  • 66 Fatal Jealousie.
  • 67 Monsieur Ragou.

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