The Works of Aphra Behn Volume V Part 16

THE NUN: or, The Perjur'd Beauty.

A TRUE NOVEL.

Don _Henrique_ was a Person of great Birth, of a great Estate, of a Bravery equal to either, of a most generous Education, but of more Pa.s.sion than Reason: He was besides of an opener and freer Temper than generally his Countrymen are (I mean, the _Spaniards_) and always engag'd in some Love-Intrigue or other.

One Night as he was retreating from one of those Engagements, Don _Sebastian_, whose Sister he had abus'd with a Promise of Marriage, set upon him at the Corner of a Street, in _Madrid_, and by the Help of three of his Friends, design'd to have dispatch'd him on a doubtful Emba.s.sy to the Almighty Monarch: But he receiv'd their first Instructions with better Address than they expected, and dismiss'd his Envoy first, killing one of Don _Sebastian's_ Friends. Which so enrag'd the injur'd Brother, that his Strength and Resolution seem'd to be redoubled, and so animated his two surviving Companions, that (doubtless) they had gain'd a dishonourable Victory, had not Don _Antonio_ accidentally come in to the Rescue; who after a short Dispute, kill'd one of the two who attack'd him only; whilst Don _Henrique_, with the greatest Difficulty, defended his Life, for some Moments, against _Sebastian_, whose Rage depriv'd him of Strength, and gave his Adversary the unwish'd Advantage of his seeming Death, tho' not without bequeathing some b.l.o.o.d.y Legacies to Don _Henrique_. _Antonio_ had receiv'd but one slight Wound in the left Arm, and his surviving Antagonist none; who however thought it not adviseable to begin a fresh Dispute against two, of whose Courage he had but too fatal a Proof, tho'

one of 'em was sufficiently disabled. The Conquerors, on the other Side, politickly retreated, and quitting the Field to the Conquer'd, left the Living to bury the Dead, if he could, or thought convenient.

As they were marching off, Don _Antonio_, who all this while knew not whose Life he had so happily preserv'd, told his Companion in Arms, that he thought it indispensibly necessary that he should quarter with him that Night, for his further Preservation. To which he prudently consented, and went, with no little Uneasiness, to his Lodgings; where he surpriz'd _Antonio_ with the Sight of his dearest Friend. For they had certainly the nearest Sympathy in all their Thoughts, that ever made two brave Men unhappy: And, undoubtedly, nothing but Death, or more fatal Love, could have divided them. However, at present, they were united and secure.

In the mean time, Don _Sebastian's_ Friend was just going to call Help to carry off the Bodies, as the ---- came by; who seeing three Men lie dead, seiz'd the fourth; who as he was about to justify himself, by discovering one of the Authors of so much Blood-shed, was interrupted by a Groan from his supposed dead Friend Don _Sebastian_; whom, after a brief Account of some Part of the Matter, and the Knowledge of his Quality, they took up, and carried to his House; where, within a few Days, he was recovered past the Fear of Death. All this While _Henrique_ and _Antonio_ durst not appear, so much as by Night; nor could be found, tho' diligent and daily Search was made after the first; but upon Don _Sebastian's_ Recovery, the Search ceasing, they took the Advantage of the Night, and, in Disguise, retreated to _Seville_. 'Twas there they thought themselves most secure, where indeed they were in the greatest Danger; for tho' (haply) they might there have escap'd the murderous Attempt of Don _Sebastian_, and his Friends, yet they could not there avoid the malicious Influence of their Stars.

This City gave Birth to _Antonio_, and to the Cause of his greatest Misfortunes, as well as of his Death. Dona _Ardelia_ was born there, a Miracle of Beauty and Falshood. 'Twas more than a Year since Don _Antonio_ had first seen and loved her. For 'twas impossible any Man should do one without the other. He had had the unkind Opportunity of speaking and conveying a Billet to her at Church; and to his greater Misfortune, the next Time he found her there, he met with too Kind a Return both from her Eyes and from her Hand, which privately slipt a Paper into his; in which he found abundantly more than he expected, directing him in that, how he should proceed, in order to carry her off from her Father with the least Danger he could look for in such an Attempt; since it would have been vain and fruitless to have asked her of her Father, because their Families had been at Enmity for several Years; tho' _Antonio_ was as well descended as she, and had as ample a Fortune; nor was his Person, according to his s.e.x, any way inferior to her's; and certainly, the Beauties of his Mind were more excellent, especially if it be an Excellence to be constant.

He had made several Attempts to take Possession of her; but all prov'd ineffectual; however, he had the good Fortune not to be known, tho' once or twice he narrowly escap'd with Life, bearing off his Wounds with Difficulty.--(Alas, that the Wounds of Love should cause those of Hate!) Upon which she was strictly confin'd to one Room, whose only Window was towards the Garden, and that too was grated with Iron; and, once a Month, when she went to Church, she was constantly and carefully attended by her Father, and a Mother-in-Law, worse than a _Duegna_.

Under this miserable Confinement _Antonio_ understood she still continued, at his Return to _Seville_, with Don _Henrique_, whom he acquainted with his invincible Pa.s.sion for her; lamenting the Severity of her present Circ.u.mstances, that admitted of no Prospect of Relief; which caus'd a generous Concern in Don _Henrique_, both for the Sufferings of his Friend, and of the Lady. He proposed several Ways to Don _Antonio_, for the Release of the fair Prisoner; but none of them was thought practicable, or at least likely to succeed. But _Antonio_, who (you may believe) was then more nearly engag'd, bethought himself of an Expedient that would undoubtedly reward their Endeavours. 'Twas, that Don _Henrique_, who was very well acquainted with _Ardelia's_ Father, should make him a Visit, with Pretence of begging his Consent and Admission to make his Addresses to his Daughter; which, in all Probability, he could not refuse to Don _Henrique's_ Quality and Estate; and then this Freedom of Access to her would give him the Opportunity of delivering the Lady to his Friend. This was thought so reasonable, that the very next Day it was put in Practice; and with so good Success, that Don _Henrique_ was received by the Father of _Ardelia_ with the greatest and most respectful Ceremony imaginable: And when he made the Proposal to him of marrying his Daughter, it was embraced with a visible Satisfaction and Joy in the Air of his Face. This their first Conversation ended with all imaginable Content on both Sides; Don _Henrique_ being invited by the Father to Dinner the next Day, when Dona _Ardelia_ was to be present; who, at that Time, was said to be indispos'd, (as 'tis very probable she was, with so close an Imprisonment.) _Henrique_ returned to _Antonio_, and made him happy with the Account of his Reception; which could not but have terminated in the perfect Felicity of _Antonio_, had his Fate been just to the Merits of his Love. The Day and Hour came which brought _Henrique_, with a private Commission from his Friend, to _Ardelia_. He saw her;--(ah! would he had only seen her veil'd!) and, with the first Opportunity, gave her the Letter, which held so much Love, and so much Truth, as ought to have preserved him in the Empire of her Heart. It contained, besides, a Discovery of his whole Design upon her Father, for the compleating of their Happiness; which nothing then could obstruct but her self. But _Henrique_ had seen her; he had gaz'd, and swallowed all her Beauties at his Eyes. How greedily his Soul drank the strong Poison in! But yet his Honour and his Friends.h.i.+p were strong as ever, and bravely fought against the Usurper Love, and got a n.o.ble Victory; at least he thought and wish'd so. With this, and a short Answer to his Letter, _Henrique_ return'd to the longing _Antonio_; who, receiving the Paper with the greatest Devotion, and kissing it with the greatest Zeal, open'd and read these Words to himself:

_Don +Antonio+,_

_You have, at last, made Use of the best and only Expedient for my Enlargement; for which I thank you, since I know it is purely the Effect of your Love. Your Agent has a mighty Influence on my Father: And you may a.s.sure yourself, that as you have advis'd and desir'd me, he shall have no less on me, who am_

Your's entirely, And only your's, _ARDELIA_.

Having respectfully and tenderly kiss'd the Name, he could not chuse but shew the _Billet_ to his Friend; who reading that Part of it which concern'd himself, started and blush'd: Which _Antonio_ observing, was curious to know the Cause of it. _Henrique_ told him, That he was surpriz'd to find her express so little Love, after so long an Absence.

To which his Friend reply'd for her, That, doubtless, she had not Time enough to attempt so great a Matter as a perfect Account of her Love; and added, that it was Confirmation enough to him of its Continuance, since she subscrib'd her self his entirely, and only his.--How blind is Love! Don _Henrique_ knew how to make it bear another Meaning; which, however, he had the Discretion to conceal. _Antonio_, who was as real in his Friends.h.i.+p, as constant in his Love, ask'd him what he thought of her Beauty? To which the other answer'd, that he thought it irresistable to any, but to a Soul preposses'd, and n.o.bly fortify'd with a perfect Friends.h.i.+p:--Such as is thine, my _Henrique_, (added _Antonio_;) yet as sincere and perfect as that is, I know you must, nay, I know you do love her. As I ought to do, (reply'd _Henrique_.) Yes, yes, (return'd his Friend) it must be so; otherwise the Sympathy which unites our Souls would be wanting, and consequently our Friends.h.i.+p were in a State of Imperfection. How industriously you would argue me into a Crime, that would tear and destroy the Foundation of the strongest Ties of Truth and Honour! (said _Henrique_.) But (he continu'd) I hope within a few Days, to put it out of my Power to be guilty of so great a Sacrilege. I can't determine (said _Antonio_) if I knew that you lov'd one another, whether I could easier part with my Friend, or my Mistress. Tho' what you say, is highly generous, (reply'd _Henrique_) yet give me Leave to urge, that it looks like a Trial of Friends.h.i.+p, and argues you inclinable to Jealousy: But, pardon me, I know it to be sincerely meant by you; and must therefore own, that 'tis the best, because 'tis the n.o.blest Way of securing both your Friend and Mistress. I need not make use of any Arts to secure me of either, (reply'd _Antonio_) but expect to enjoy 'em both in a little Time.

_Henrique_, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this Nature, diverted it, by reflecting on what had pa.s.s'd at _Madrid_, between them two and Don _Sebastian_ and his Friends; which caus'd _Antonio_ to bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos'd his Friend, by appearing daily, tho' in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don _Sebastian_ would pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These Thoughts put him upon desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten the Performance of his Attempt; and accordingly, each Day Don _Henrique_ brought _Antonio_ nearer the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into the lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which _Antonio_ expected to be bless'd in her Love, Don _Henrique_ had a long and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then with her alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had for some Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don _Henrique_ in much Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes stedfastly fix'd on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he could see nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege of her s.e.x, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:--Has any Thing happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder which is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your continued Silence? Speak, I beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I have any Way unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed he) my Friends.h.i.+p is now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery; for To-morrow I must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying the generous Confidence which your n.o.ble Father has plac'd in me: To-morrow (added he, with a piteous Sigh) I must deliver you into the Hands of one whom your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing myself the Honour of becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days more.--But--I will consider and remind myself, that I give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my Friend, that loves you better than his Life, which he has often expos'd for your Sake; and what is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love more than any Consideration on Earth.--And must this be done? (she ask'd.) Is it inevitable as Fate?--Fix'd as the Laws of Nature, Madam, (reply'd he) don't you find the Necessity of it, _Ardelia_? (continued he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it? Think, you are going to your dear _Antonio_, who alone can merit you, and whom only you can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I should yet be unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and infinitely more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don _Henrique_ (continued she) I could with greater Satisfaction return to my miserable Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace of your Mind, or occasion one Moment's Interruption of your Quiet.--Would to Heaven you did not, (sigh'd he to himself.) Then addressing his Words more distinctly to her, cry'd he, Ah, cruel! ah, unjust _Ardelia_! these Words belong to none but _Antonio_; why then would you endeavour to persuade me, that I do, or even can merit the Tenderness of such an Expression?--Have a Care! (pursued he) have a Care, _Ardelia_! your outward Beauties are too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have such a Sweetness that they attract the very Soul that is not strongly prepossessed with the n.o.blest Friends.h.i.+p, and the highest Principles of Honour: Why then, alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents?

Why--ah, Don _Henrique_! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so charming in your Person, so great in your Friends.h.i.+p, and so ill.u.s.trious in your Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit, continually fill my Ears and Thoughts with n.o.ble Characters and glorious Ideas, which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable Original!--But--(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don _Henrique_, why will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your Alliance, and me of those glorious Hopes with which you had bless'd my Soul, by casting me away from you to _Antonio_!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting) what said you, Madam? What did _Ardelia_ say? That I had bless'd your Soul with Hopes!

That I would cast you away to _Antonio_!--Can they who safely arrive in their wish'd-for Port, be said to be s.h.i.+pwreck'd? Or, can an abject indigent Wretch make a King?--These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I must not think to expound 'em. No, (said she) let it alone, Don _Henrique_; I'll ease you of that Trouble, and tell you plainly that I love you. Ah! (cry'd he) now all my Fears are come upon me!--How! (ask'd she) were you afraid I should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then?

Yes, when misplac'd (reply'd he;) but 'twas your Falshood that I fear'd: Your Love was what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my Life, nay, even of my future Happiness, I fear, had you not been engag'd: strongly oblig'd to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and Vows, as well as by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For which (said she) I do not hate him, tho' his Father kill'd my Uncle: Nay, perhaps (continu'd she) I have a Friends.h.i.+p for him, but no more.

No more, said you, Madam? (cry'd he;)--but tell me, did you never love him? Indeed, I did, (reply'd she;) but the Sight of you has better instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Pa.s.sion for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It must not be (return'd Don _Henrique_) my Honour, my Friends.h.i.+p forbids it. No (she return'd) your Honour requires it; and if your Friends.h.i.+p opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid Foundation. Female Sophistry! (cry'd _Henrique_;) but you need no Art nor Artifice, _Ardelia_, to make me love you: Love you! (pursu'd he:) By that bright Sun, the Light and Heat of all the World, you are my only Light and Heat--Oh, Friends.h.i.+p! Sacred Friends.h.i.+p, now a.s.sist me!--[Here for a Time he paus'd, and then afresh proceeded thus,]--You told me, or my Ears deceiv'd me, that you lov'd me, _Ardelia_. I did, she reply'd; and that I do love you, is as true as that I told you so. 'Tis well;--But would it were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?--Why, I could wish I did not love you, _Ardelia_! But that were impossible--At least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then (he went on) to shew you that I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any regard to my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don _Antonio_; and as a Proof of your Love to me, I expect your ready Consent to it. To let you see, Don _Henrique_, how perfectly and tenderly I love you, I will be sacrificed To-morrow to Don _Antonio_, and to your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest Obligation!--cry'd _Henrique_: To-morrow then, as I have told your Father, I am to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who dares not appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and therefore cannot be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I could not but think it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make him happy in the Sight of my beautiful Choice, e'er yet she be my Bride.

I hope (said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compa.s.sion; and that at last, e'er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering, I mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old _Roman_ Ceremony) that you or some other pitying Angel, will s.n.a.t.c.h me from the Altar. Ah, no more, _Ardelia_! say no more (cry'd he) we must be cruel, to be just to our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and they walked into the House, where they found the good old Gentleman and his Lady, with whom he stay'd till about an Hour after Supper, when he returned to his Friend with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]

_Antonio_ was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching Day; which tho' it brought Don _Henrique_ and his dear _Ardelia_ to him, about five o'Clock in the Evening, yet at the same Time brought his last and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a She Relation's of his, above three Miles from _Seville_, which was the Place a.s.signed for their fatal Interview. He saw her, I say; but ah! how strange! how altered from the dear, kind _Ardelia_ she was when last he left her! 'Tis true, he flew to her with Arms expanded, and with so swift and eager a Motion, that she could not avoid, nor get loose from his Embrace, till he had kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which all the Strength of his Mind could not restrain; whether they were the Effects of Joy, or whether (which rather may be feared) they were the Heat-drops which preceded and threaten'd the Thunder and Tempest that should fall on his Head, I cannot positively say; yet all this she was then forced to endure, e'er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to breathe. But as soon as she had freed herself from the loving Circle that should have been the dear and lov'd Confinement or Centre of a Faithful Heart, she began to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from her Eyes; which that Mouth that he had just before so tenderly and sacredly kiss'd, seconded with whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every Sentence, pointed with the keenest Affliction that ever pierc'd a Soul. _Antonio_, (she began) you have treated me now as if you were never like to see me more: and would to Heaven you were not!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting and staring wildly on her;) What said you, Madam? What said you, my _Ardelia_? If you like the Repet.i.tion, take it? (reply'd she, unmoved) _Would to Heaven you were never like to see me more!_ Good! very Good! (cry'd he, with a Sigh that threw him trembling into a Chair behind him, and gave her the Opportunity of proceeding thus:)--Yet, _Antonio_, I must not have my Wish; I must continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by the strictest and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don _Henrique_, your Friend, commands it; Don _Henrique_, the dearest Object of my Soul, enjoins it; Don _Henrique_, whose only Aversion I am, will have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry'd Don _Henrique_.) Lead me, lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse, I beseech you (said Don _Antonio_) that I may see your Meaning! for hitherto 'tis Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with your best Faculties (pursu'd _Ardelia_) and know, That I do most sincerely and most pa.s.sionately love Don _Henrique_; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I have this Day consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake in the least, _Antonio_, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of my Life to his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her self to Don _Henrique_) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute your own most dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts never can meet.

All this to try me! It's too much, _Ardelia_--(said _Antonio_:) And then turning to Don _Henrique_, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not Apostate to our Friends.h.i.+p! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil has been tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a Man of Honour once.

And when I forfeit my just t.i.tle to that (interrupted Don _Henrique_) may I be made most miserable!--May I lose the Blessings of thy Friends.h.i.+p!--May I lose thee!--Say on then, _Henrique_! (cry'd _Antonio_:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of Friends.h.i.+p, say, Is this a Trial of me? Is't Illusion, Sport, or shameful murderous Truth?--Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can bear no longer!--Tell!

Speak! Say on!--[Here, with folded Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on _Henrique_, he stood like a Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes, when his swelling Heart raised his over-charged Breast.] After a little Pause, and a hearty Sigh or two, _Henrique_ began;--Oh, _Antonio_! Oh my Friend! prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!--I am (pursu'd he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that e'er till now offended:--I love her, _Antonio_,--I love _Ardelia_ with a Pa.s.sion strong and violent as thine!--Oh! summon all that us'd to be more than Man about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which nothing but a Resolution like thine can bear! I know it by myself.--Tho'

there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted _Antonio_) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I will, (returned Don _Henrique_) tho' I feel my own Words have the same cruel Effects on me. I say, again, my Soul loves _Ardelia_: And how can it be otherwise?

Have we not both the self-same Appet.i.tes, the same Disgusts? How then could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or Pa.s.sion could have seen, and not have lov'd her! Then how should I, whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had prevail'd on you?--And now, to let you know, 'tis no Illusion, no Sport, but serious and amazing woeful Truth, _Ardelia_ best can tell you whom she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven (cry'd she) 'tis you, Don _Henrique_, whom I only love, and who alone can give me Happiness: Ah, would you would!--With you, _Antonio_, I must remain unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my h.e.l.l; Don _Henrique_ is my Heaven. And thou art mine, (returned he) which here I part with to my dearest Friend. Then taking her Hand, Pardon me, _Antonio_, (pursued he) that I thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your _Ardelia_, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss'd her Hand, and gave it to Don _Antonio_; who received it, and gently pressed it close to his Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had caus'd there.]

Be happy, _Antonio_, (cry'd _Henrique_:) Be very tender of her; To-morrow early I shall hope to see thee.--_Ardelia_ (pursued he) All Happiness and Joy surround thee! May'st thou ne'er want those Blessings thou can'st give _Antonio_!--Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah (cry'd she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake me.--Yet do not go!--Ah, cruel! (continu'd she, seeing him quit the Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned away in Don _Antonio's_ Arms; who, though he was happy that he had her fast there, yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and _Ardelia's_ Attendants, e'er she could be perfectly recovered. In the mean while Don _Henrique_ had not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but wandred to and fro about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able longer to refrain her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his Ears, he came again into the Room where he left her with Don _Antonio_, just as she revived, and called him, exclaiming on his Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But when, turning her Eyes towards the Door, she saw him; Oh! with what eager Haste she flew to him! then clasped him round the Waist, obliging him, with all the tender Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a Woman's too, is capable of uttering, not to leave her in the Possession of Don _Antonio_. This so amaz'd her slighted Lover, that he knew not, at first, how to proceed in this tormenting Scene; but at last, summoning all his wonted Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her, He would put her out of his Power, if she would consent to retreat for some few Hours to a Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from thence, till he had discoursed his Friend, Don _Henrique_ something more particularly than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily agreed, upon the Promise that Don _Henrique_ made her, of seeing her with the first Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent, where she was kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but it was not long before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and more afflicting Circ.u.mstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it was almost dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour's Absence; and the better to palliate their Design, _Henrique_ told her, that he would make use of her Father Don _Richardo's_ Coach, in which they came to Don _Antonio's_, for so small a Time: which they did, leaving only _Eleonora_ her Attendant with her, with out whom she had been at a Loss, among so many fair Strangers; Strangers, I mean, to her unhappy Circ.u.mstances: Whilst they were carry'd near a Mile farther, where, just as 'twas dark, they lighted from the Coach, Don _Henrique_, ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their Return from their private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field that belong'd to the Convent. Here Don _Antonio_ told Don _Henrique_, That he had not acted honourably; That he had betray'd him, and robb'd him at once both of a Friend and Mistress. To which t'other returned, That he understood his Meaning, when he proposed a particular Discourse about this Affair, which he now perceived must end in Blood: But you may remind your self (continued he) that I have kept my Promise in delivering her to you.

Yes, (cry'd _Antonio_) after you had practis'd foully and basely on her.

Not at all! (returned _Henrique_) It was her Fate that brought this Mischief on her; for I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but all in vain, to her. But don't you love her, _Henrique_? (the other ask'd.) Too well, and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel the cursed Effects of the same Inconstancy: However, I had quitted her all to you, but you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir, (cry'd _Antonio_, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here, without more Words, they fell to Action; to b.l.o.o.d.y Action. (Ah! how wretched are our s.e.x, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds of their former Friends.h.i.+p; till Don _Antonio_ fell, and said, dying, 'Forgive me, _Henrique_! I was to blame; I could not live without her:--I fear she will betray thy Life, which haste and preserve, for my sake--Let me not die all at once!--Heaven pardon both of us!--Farewel!

Oh, haste! Farewel! (_returned Don +Henrique+_) Farewel, thou bravest, truest Friend! Farewel thou n.o.blest Part of me!--And Farewel all the Quiet of my Soul.' Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he found he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood, for he had received two or three dangerous Wounds, besides others of less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the convenient Haste he could to the Coach, into which, by the Help of the Footmen, he got, and order'd 'em to drive him directly to Don _Richardo's_ with all imaginable Speed; where he arriv'd in little more than half an Hour's Time, and was received by _Ardelia's_ Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement that is expressible, seeing him return'd without his Daughter, and so desperately wounded. Before he thought it convenient to ask him any Question more than to enquire of his Daughter's Safety, to which he receiv'd a short but satisfactory Answer, Don _Richardo_ sent for an eminent and able Surgeon, who probed and dress'd Don _Henrique's_ Wounds, who was immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of his Recovery; but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Const.i.tution!) he rested pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the Morning, _Ardelia's_ Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that Night, came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circ.u.mstances of the past Night's Adventure; of which Don _Henrique_ gave him a perfect and pleasant Account, since he heard that Don _Antonio_, his mortal Enemy, was killed; the a.s.surance of whose Death was the more delightful to him, since, by this Relation, he found that _Antonio_ was the Man, whom his Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don _Henrique_ had hardly made an End of his Narration, e'er a Servant came hastily to give _Richardo_ Notice, that the Officers were come to search for his Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old Gentleman's wise Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that they might as reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had a Door made of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close Apartment: He went therefore boldly to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of his House, with free Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which they did, but to no Purpose; and Don _Henrique_ lay there undiscover'd, till his Cure was perfected.

In the mean time _Ardelia_, who that fatal Night but too rightly guess'd that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they did not return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in which her Father found her soon after he had clear'd himself of those who come to search for a Lover. The a.s.surance which her Father gave her of _Henrique's_ Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the Severity of _Antonio's_ Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she could not but retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added to her Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that _Richardo_ was constrain'd to leave her under the Care of the good Lady Abbess, and to the diligent Attendance of _Eleonora_, not daring to hazard her Life in a Removal to his own House. All their Care and Diligence was however ineffectual; for she languished even to the least Hope of Recovery, till immediately after the first Visit of Don _Henrique_, which was the first he made in a Month's Time, and that by Night _incognito_, with her Father, her Distemper visibly retreated each Day: Yet when at last she enjoy'd a perfect Health of Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged into a deep Melancholy; which made her entertain a positive Resolution of taking the Veil at the End of her Novitiate; which accordingly she did, notwithstanding all the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her Father and Lover. But she soon repented her Vow, and often wish'd that she might by any Means see and speak to Don _Henrique_, by whose Help she promised to her self a Deliverance out of her voluntary Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes wanting to the same Effect, tho' he was forced to fly into _Italy_, to avoid the Prosecution of _Antonio's_ Friends. Thither she pursu'd him; nor could he any way shun her, unless he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his Body: Which made him take a fatal Resolution of returning to _Seville_ in Disguise, where he wander'd about the Convent every Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul was within, while his inanimate Trunk was without) till at last he found Means to convey a Letter to her, which both surprized and delighted her.

The Messenger that brought it her was one of her Mother-in-Law's Maids, whom he had known before, and met accidentally one Night as he was going his Rounds, and she coming out from _Ardelia_; with her he prevail'd, and with Gold obliged her to Secrecy and a.s.sistance: Which proved so successful, that he understood from _Ardelia_ her strong Desire of Liberty, and the Continuance of her Pa.s.sion for him, together with the Means and Time most convenient and likely to succeed for her Enlargement. The Time was the fourteenth Night following, at twelve o'Clock, which just compleated a Month since his Return thither; at which Time they both promised themselves the greatest Happiness on Earth. But you may observe the Justice of Heaven, in their Disappointment.

Don _Sebastian_, who still pursu'd him with a most implacable Hatred, had traced him even to _Italy_, and there narrowly missing him, posted after him to _Toledo_; so sure and secret was his Intelligence! As soon as he arriv'd, he went directly to the Convent where his Sister _Elvira_ had been one of the Profess'd, ever since Don _Henrique_ had forsaken her, and where _Ardelia_ had taken her repented Vow. _Elvira_ had all along conceal'd the Occasion of her coming thither from _Ardelia_; and tho' she was her only Confident, and knew the whole Story of her Misfortunes, and heard the Name of Don _Henrique_ repeated a hundred Times a Day, whom still she lov'd most perfectly, yet never gave her beautiful Rival any Cause of Suspicion that she lov'd him, either by Words or Looks: Nay more, when she understood that Don _Henrique_ came to the Convent with _Ardelia_ and _Antonio_, and at other Times with her Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to him, had not her Brother Don _Sebastian_ put her upon the cruel Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as I have said before) found her with Dona _Ardelia_, whom he never remembred to have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that was about six Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she fell pa.s.sionately in Love with him, and continu'd her Pa.s.sion till about the fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate _Antonio_ first began his Court to her. Don _Sebastian_ was really a very desirable Person, being at that time very beautiful, his Age not exceeding six and twenty, of a sweet Conversation, very brave, but revengeful and irreconcilable (like most of his Countrymen) and of an honourable Family. At the Sight of him _Ardelia_ felt her former Pa.s.sion renew; which proceeded and continued with such Violence, that it utterly defac'd the Ideas of _Antonio_ and _Henrique_. (No Wonder that she who could resolve to forsake her G.o.d for Man, should quit one Lover for another.) In short, she then only wished that he might love her equally, and then she doubted not of contriving the Means of their Happiness betwixt 'em. She had her Wish, and more, if possible; for he lov'd her beyond the Thought of any other present or future Blessing, and fail'd not to let her know it, at the second Interview; when he receiv'd the greatest Pleasure he could have wish'd, next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed her Love to him, and presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her Escape; but not finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those Measures she had sent to Don _Henrique_, she communicates the very same to Don _Sebastian_, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very Night, wherein she had obliged Don _Henrique_ to attempt her Deliverance: The Hour indeed was different, being determined to be at eleven. _Elvira_, who was present at the Conference, took the Hint; and not being willing to disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in Vindication of her, either does not, or would not seem to oppose his Inclinations at that Time: However, when he retired with her to talk more particularly of his intended Revenge on Don _Henrique_, who he told her lay somewhere absconded in _Toledo_, and whom he had resolved, as he a.s.sured her, to sacrifice to her injur'd Honour, and his Resentments; she oppos'd that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible Arguments in a virtuous and pious Lady's Capacity, but in vain: so that immediately upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity of writing to Don _Henrique_ as follows, the fatal Hour not being then seven Nights distant.

Don _Henrique_,

_My Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit of your Life; nay more, of your Mistress, who has consented to make her Escape from the Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means on which she had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour is eleven.

I know, +Henrique+, your +Ardelia+ is dearer to you than your Life: But your Life, your dear Life, is more desired than any Thing in this World, by_

Your injur'd and forsaken

_ELVIRA_.

This she delivered to _Richardo's_ Servant, whom _Henrique_ had gained that Night, as soon as she came to visit _Ardelia_, at her usual Hour, just as she went out of the Cloister.

Don _Henrique_ was not a little surprized with this _Billet_; however, he could hardly resolve to forbear his accustom'd Visits to _Ardelia_, at first: But upon more mature Consideration, he only chose to converse with her by Letters, which still press'd her to be mindful of her Promise, and of the Hour, not taking notice of any Caution that he had received of her Treachery. To which she still return'd in Words that might a.s.sure him of her Constancy.

The dreadful Hour wanted not a Quarter of being perfect, when Don _Henrique_ came; and having fixed his Rope-Ladder to that Part of the Garden-Wall, where he was expected, _Ardelia_, who had not stir'd from that very Place for a Quarter of an Hour before, prepar'd to ascend by it; which she did, as soon as his Servant had returned and fixed it on the inner-side of the Wall: On the Top of which, at a little Distance, she found another fasten'd, for her to descend on the out-side, whilst Don _Henrique_ eagerly waited to receive her. She came at last, and flew into his Arms; which made _Henrique_ cry out in a Rapture, _Am I at last once more happy in having my +Ardelia+ in my Possession!_ She, who knew his Voice, and now found she was betray'd, but knew not by whom, shriek'd out, _I am ruined! help! help!--Loose me, I charge you, +Henrique!+ Loose me!_ At that very Moment, and at those very Words, came _Sebastian_, attended by only one Servant; and hearing _Henrique_ reply, _Not all the Powers of h.e.l.l shall s.n.a.t.c.h you from me_, drawing his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pa.s.s at him: But his Rage and Haste misguided his Arm, for his Sword went quite through _Ardelia's_ Body, who only said, _Ah, wretched Maid!_ and drop'd from _Henrique's_ Arms, who then was obliged to quit her, to preserve his own Life, if possible: however he had not had so much Time as to draw, had not _Sebastian_ been amazed at this dreadful Mistake of his Sword; but presently recollecting himself, he flew with redoubled Rage to attack _Henrique_; and his Servant had seconded him, had not _Henrique's_, who was now descended, otherwise diverted him. They fought with the greatest Animosity on both Sides, and with equal Advantage; for they both fell together: _Ah, my +Ardelia+, I come to thee now!_ (_Sebastian_ groan'd out,)--_'Twas this unlucky Arm, which now embraces thee, that killed thee._ _Just Heaven!_ (she sigh'd out,)--_Oh, yet have Mercy!_ [Here they both dy'd.] _Amen_, (cry'd _Henrique_, dying) _I want it most_-- _Oh, +Antonio+!_ _Oh, +Elvira+! Ah, there's the Weight that sinks me down.--And yet I wish Forgiveness.--Once more, sweet Heaven, have Mercy!_ He could not out-live that last Word; which was echo'd by _Elvira_, who all this while stood weeping, and calling out for Help, as she stood close to the Wall in the Garden.

This alarmed the Rest of the Sisters, who rising, caus'd the Bell to be rung out, as upon dangerous Occasions it used to be; which rais'd the Neighbourhood, who came time enough to remove the dead Bodies of the two Rivals, and of the late fallen Angel _Ardelia_. The injur'd and neglected _Elvira_, whose Piety designed quite contrary Effects, was immediately seiz'd with a violent Fever; which, as it was violent, did not last long: for she dy'd within four and twenty Hours, with all the happy Symptoms of a departing Saint.

THE LUCKY MISTAKE.

TO GEORGE GREENVIEL, ESQ;

Sir,

At this Critical Juncture, I find the Authors will have need of a Protector, as well as the Nation, we having peculiar Laws and Liberties to be defended as well as that, but of how different a Nature, none but such Judges as you are fit to determine; whatever our Province be, I am sure it should be Wit, and you know what Ellevated _Ben_ says, _That none can judge of Wit but Wit._ Let the _Heroes_ toyl for Crowns and Kingdoms and with what pretences they please. Let the Slaves of State drudge on for false and empty Glories, troubling the repose of the World and ruining their own to gain uneasy Grandure, whilst you, oh! happyer Sir, great enough by your Birth, yet more Ill.u.s.trious by your Wit, are capable of enjoying alone that true Felicity of Mind, which belongs to an absolutely Vertuous and Gallant Man, by that, and the lively Notions of Honour Imprinted in your Soul, you are above Ambition, and can Form _Kings_ and _Heroes_, when 'ere your delicate Fancy shall put you upon the Poetical Creation.

You can make those _Heroes_ Lovers too, and inspire 'em with a Language so Irresistable as may instruct the Fair, how easily you may Conquer when it comes to your turn, to plead for a Heart, nor is your delicate Wit the only Charm; your Person claims an equal share of Graces with those of your Mind, and both together are capable of rendering you Victorious, whereever you shall please to Address 'em, but your Vertue keeps you from those Ravages of Beauty, which so wholly imploy the hours of the Rest of the Gay and Young, whilst you have business more sollid, and more n.o.ble for yours.

I would not by this have the World imagine you are therefore exempt from the tenderness of Love, it rather seems you were on purpose form'd for that Soft Entertainment, such an Agreement there is between the Harmony of your Soul and your Person, and sure the _Muses_ who have so divinely inspir'd you with Poetic Fires, have furnisht you with that Necessary Material (Love) to maintain it, and to make it burn with the more Ellevated Flame.

'Tis therefore, Sir, I expect you will the more easily Pardon the Dedicating to your idler hours (if any such you have) this little Amour, all that I shall say for it, is, that 'tis not Translation but an Original, that has more of realty than fiction, if I have not made it fuller of intreague, 'twas because I had a mind to keep close to the Truth.

I must own, Sir, the Obligations I have to you, deserves a greater testimony of my respect, than this little piece, too trivial to bear the honour of your Name, but my increasing Indisposition makes me fear I shall not have many opportunities of this Kind, and shou'd be loath to leave this ungrateful World, without acknowledging my Grat.i.tude more signally than barely by word of Mouth, and without wis.h.i.+ng you all the happiness your merit and admirable Vertues deserve and of a.s.suring you how unfeignedly I am (and how Proud of being) Sir,

Your most obliged and most humble servant A. Behn.