The Works of Aphra Behn Volume V Part 20

The Eldest, called _Belvideera_, was indefatigably addicted to Study, which she had improv'd so far, that by the sixteenth Year of her Age, she understood all the _European_ Languages, and cou'd speak most of'em, but was particularly pleas'd with the _English_, which gave me the Happiness of many Hours Conversation with her; and I may ingenuously declare, 'twas the most Pleasant I ever enjoy'd, for besides a piercing Wit, and depth of Understanding peculiar to herself, she delivered her Sentiments with that easiness and grace of Speech, that it charm'd all her Hearers.

The Beauties of the second Sister, nam'd _Maria_, grew with her Age, every twelve Months saluting her with a New-years Gift of some peculiar Charm; her Shapes were fine set off with a graceful and easy Carriage; the Majesty and Softness of her Face, at once wrought Love and Veneration; the Language of her Eyes sufficiently paid the Loss of her Tongue, and there was something so Commanding in her Look, that it struck every Beholder as dumb as herself; she was a great Proficient in Painting, which puts me in mind of a notable Story I can't omit; her Father had sent for the most Famous Painter in _Italy_ to draw her Picture, she accordingly sat for it; he had drawn some of the Features of her Face; and coming to the Eye, desired her to give him as brisk and piercing a Glance as she cou'd; but the Vivacity of her Look so astonished the Painter, that thro' concern he let his Pencil drop and spoiled the Picture; he made a second Essay, but with no better Success, for rising in great Disorder, he swore it impossible to draw that which he cou'd not look upon; the Lady vexed at the Weakness of the Painter, took up his Pencils and the Picture, and sitting down to her Gla.s.s, finished it herself; she had improv'd her silent Conversation with her Sister so far, that she was understood by her, as if she had spoke, and I remember this Lady was the first I saw use the significative Way of Discourse by the Fingers; I dare not say 'twas she invented it (tho' it probably might have been an Invention of these ingenious Sisters) but I am positive none before her ever brought it to that Perfection.

In the seventeenth of _Belvideera's_, and sixteenth Year of _Maria's_ Age, _Francisco_, Brother to _Rinaldo_, was made Admiral of the _Venetian_ Fleet, and upon his first Entrance upon his Command, had obtained a signal Victory over the _Turks_; he returning to _Venice_ with Triumph, applause and spoil, presented to the great Duke a young _English_ Gentleman, who only as a Volunteer in the Action, had signalized himself very bravely in the Engagement, but particularly by first boarding the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley, and killing her Commander hand to hand; the Fame of this Gentleman soon spread over all _Venice_, and the two Sisters sent presently for me, to give an Account of the Exploits of my Countryman, as their Unkle had recounted it to them; I was pleas'd to find so great an Example of _English_ Bravery, so far from Home, and long'd extreamly to converse with him, vainly flattering myself, that he might have been of my Acquaintance. That very Night there was a grand Ball and Masquerade at the great Duke's Palace, for the most signal Joy of the late Success, thither _Belvideera_ invited me to Accompany her and _Maria_, adding withal as a Motive, that we might there most probably meet, and Discourse with this young Hero; and equipping me with a Suit of Masquerade, they carried me in their Coach to the Ball, where we had pa.s.s'd half an Hour, when I saw enter a handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress; I show'd him to _Belvideera_, who moving towards him, with a gallant Air, slaps him on the Shoulder with her Fan, he turning about, and viewing her Person, the Defaults of which were not altogether hidden by her Disguise; 'Sir, (said he) if you are a Man, know that I am one, and will not bear Impertinence; but, if you are a Lady, Madam, as I hope in Heavens you are not, I must inform you, that I am under a Vow, not to converse with any Female to Night;' 'Know then, Sir, (answered _Belvideera_ very smartly) that I am a Female, and you have broke your Vow already; but methinks, Sir, the Ladies are very little oblig'd to your Vow, which wou'd rob them of the Conversation of so fine a Gentleman.'

'Madam, (said the Gentleman) the Sweetness of your Voice bespeaks you a Lady, and I hope the breaking my Vow will be so far from d.a.m.ning me, that I shall thereby merit Heaven, if I may be blest in your Divine Conversation.' _Belvideera_ made such ingenious and smart Repartees to the Gentleman, who was himself a great Courtier, that he was entirely captivated with her Wit, insomuch, that he cou'd not refrain making Protestations of his Pa.s.sion; he talked about half an Hour in such pure _Italian_, that I began to mistrust my _Englishman_, wherefore taking some Occasion to jest upon his Habit, I found 'twas only a Masquerade to cloak a down-right _Venetian_; in the mean Time, we perceiv'd a Gentleman Gallantly attir'd with no Disguise but a _Turkish_ Turbant on, the richliest beset with Jewels I ever saw; he addressed _Maria_ with all the Mien and Air of the finest Courtier; he had talked to her a good while before we heard him, but then _Belvideera_, knowing her poor Sister uncapable of any Defence, 'Sir, (said she to the _Venetian_,) yonder is a Lady of my Acquaintance, who lies under a Vow of Silence as you were, I must therefore beg your Pardon, and fly to her Relief': 'She can never be conquer'd, who has such a Champion,' (reply'd the Gentleman) upon which _Belvideera_ turning from him, interpos'd between the Gentleman and her Sister, saying, 'This Lady, Sir, is under an Obligation of Silence, as a Penance imposed by her Father-Confessor.'

'Madam, (reply'd the Gentleman) whoever impos'd Silence on these fair Lips, is guilty of a greater Offence than any, such a fair Creature cou'd commit.' 'Why, Sir, (said _Belvideera_) have you seen the Lady's Beauty': 'Yes, Madam, (answer'd he) for urging her to talk, which I found she declin'd, I promis'd to disengage her from any farther Impertinence, upon a Sight of her Face; she agreed by paying the Price of her Liberty, which was ransom enough for any Thing under Heavens, but her fair Company'; he spoke in an Accent that easily shew'd him a Stranger; which _Belvideera_ laying hold of, as an Occasion of Railery, 'Sir, (said she,) your Tongue p.r.o.nounces you a great Stranger in this Part of the World, I hope you are not what that Turbant represents; perhaps, Sir, you think your self in the Seraglio'; 'Madam, (reply'd he,) this Turbant might have been in the _Turkish_ Seraglio, but never in so fair a one as this; and this Turbant (taking it off) is now to be laid at the Foot of some Christian Lady, for whose safety, and by whose protecting Influence, I had the Happiness to win it from the Captain of the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley.' We were all surpriz'd, knowing him then the young _English_ Gentleman, we were so curious of seeing; _Belvideera_ presently talk'd _English_ to him, and made him some very pretty Complements upon his Victory, which so charm'd the young Soldier, that her Tongue claim'd an equal Share in his Heart with _Maria's_ Eyes; 'Madam, (said he to her) if you have the Beauty of that Lady, or if she has your Wit, I am the most happy, or the most unfortunate Man alive.'

'Sir,' said the _Venetian_ coming up, 'pray give me leave to share in your Misfortunes.' 'Sir, (said _Belvideera_ very smartly) you must share in his good Fortunes, and learn to conquer Men, before you have the Honour of being subdu'd by Ladies, we scorn mean Prizes, Sir.' 'Madam, (said the _Venetian_ in some Choler) perhaps I can subdue a Rival.'

'Pray, Sir, (said the Stranger) don't be angry with the Lady, she's not your Rival I hope, Sir.' Said the _Venetian_, 'I can't be angry at the Lady, because I love her; but my Anger must be levell'd at him, who after this Declaration dare own a Pa.s.sion for her.' 'Madam, (said the _English_ Gentleman turning from the _Venetian_) Honour now must extort a Confession from me, which the Awfulness of my Pa.s.sion durst never have own'd: And I must declare,' added he in a louder Voice, 'to all the World, that I love you, lest this Gentleman shou'd think his Threats forc'd me to disown it.' 'O! then (said _Belvideera_) you're his Rival in Honour, not in Love.' 'In honourable Love I am, Madam,' answer'd the Stranger. 'I'll try,' (said the _Venetian_, going off in Choler,) he Whisper'd a little to a Gentleman, that stood at some Distance, and immediately went out; this was _Gonzago_, a Gentleman of good Reputation in _Venice_, his Principles were Honour and Gallantry, but the Former often sway'd by Pa.s.sions, rais'd by the Latter. All this while, _Maria_ and I were admiring the Stranger, whose Person was indeed wonderfully Amiable; his Motions were exact, yet free and unconstrain'd; the Tone of his Voice carried a sweet Air of Modesty in it, yet were all his Expressions manly; and to summ up all, he was as fine an _English_ Gentleman, as I ever saw Step in the _Mall_.

Poor _Maria_ never before envied her Sister the Advantage of Speech, or never deplor'd the Loss of her own with more Regret, she found something so Sweet in the Mien, Person, and Discourse of this Stranger, that her Eyes felt a dazling Pleasure in beholding him, and like flattering Mirrours represented every Action and Feature, with some heightning Advantage to her Imagination: _Belvideera_ also had some secret Impulses of Spirit, which drew her insensibly into a great Esteem of the Gentleman; she ask'd him, by what good Genius, propitious to _Venice_, he was induced to Live so remote from his Country; he said, that he cou'd not imploy his Sword better than against the common Foe of Christianity; and besides, there was a peculiar Reason, which prompted him to serve there, which Time cou'd only make known. I made bold to ask him some peculiar Questions, about Affairs at Court, to most of which he gave Answers, that shew'd his Education liberal, and himself no Stranger to Quality; he call'd himself _Dangerfield_, which was a Name that so pleas'd me, that being since satisfied it was a Counterfeit, I us'd it in a Comedy of mine: We had talk'd 'till the greater Part of the Company being dispers'd, _Dangerfield_ begg'd Leave to attend us to our Coach, and waiting us to the Door, the Gentleman, whom _Gonzago_ whisper'd, advanc'd and offer'd his Service to hand _Maria_; she declin'd it, and upon his urging, she turn'd to the other Side of _Dangerfield_, who, by this Action of the Ladies finding himself int.i.tled to her Protection, 'Sir, (said he) Favours from great Beauties, as from great Monarchs, must flow Voluntarily, not by Constraint, and whosoever wou'd extort from either, are liable to the great Severity of Punishment.' 'Oh! Sir, (reply'd the _Venetian_ very arrogantly,) I understand not your Monarchy, we live here under a free State; besides, Sir, where there is no Punishment to be dreaded, the Law will prove of little Force; and so, Sir, by your Leave,' offering to push him aside, and lay hold on the Lady. _Dangerfield_ returned the Justle so vigorously, that the _Venetian_ fell down the Descent of some Stairs at the Door, and broke his Sword: _Dangerfield_ leap'd down after him, to prosecute his Chastizement, but seeing his Sword broken, only whisper'd him, that if he wou'd meet him next Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. _Mark's_ Church, he wou'd satisfie him for the Loss of his Sword; upon which, the _Venetian_ immediately went off, cursing his ill Fate, that prevented his quarrelling with _Dangerfield_, to whom he had born a grudging Envy ever since his Success in the late Engagement, and of whom, and his Lodgings, he had given _Gonzago_ an Account, when he whisper'd him at the Ball. _Dangerfield_ left us full of his Praises, and went home to his Lodgings, where he found a Note directed to him to this Effect:

SIR,

_You declared Publickly at the Ball, you were my Rival in Love and Honour: If you dare prove it by Maintaining it, I shall be to morrow Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. +Mark's+ Church, where I shall be ready to fall a Sacrifice to both._

Gonzago.

_Dangerfield_, on the Perusal of this Challenge, began to reflect on the Strangeness of that Evening's Adventure, which had engag'd him in a Pa.s.sion for two Mistresses, and involv'd him in two Duels; and whether the Extravagance of his Pa.s.sion, or the Oddness of his Fighting-Appointments, were most remarkable, he found hard to Determine; his Love was divided between the Beauty of one Lady, and Wit of another, either of which he loved pa.s.sionately, yet nothing cou'd satisfy him, but the Possibility of enjoying both. He had appointed the Gentleman at the Ball to meet him at the same Time and Place, which _Gonzago's_ Challenge to him imported; this Disturbance employed his Thought till Morning, when rising and dressing himself very richly, he walked to the appointed Place. _Erizo_, who was the Gentleman whose Sword he had broke, was in the Place before him; and _Gonzago_ entered at the same Time with him. _Erizo_, was surprized to see _Gonzago_, as much as he was to find _Erizo_ there. 'I don't remember, Friend (said _Gonzago_) that I desired your Company here this Morning.' 'As much as I expected yours,' answered _Erizo_. 'Come, Gentlemen, (said _Dangerfield_, interrupting them) I must fight you both, it seems: which shall I dispatch first?' 'Sir, (said _Erizo_) you challeng'd me, and therefore I claim your Promise.' 'Sir, (reply'd _Gonzago_) he must require the same of me first, as I challenged him.' Said _Erizo_, 'the Affront I received was unpardonable, and therefore I must fight him first, lest if he fall by your Hands, I be depriv'd of my Satisfaction.' 'Nay (reply'd _Gonzago_) my Love and Honour being laid at Stake, first claims his Blood; and therefore, Sir, (continued he to _Dangerfield_) defend yourself.' 'Hold (said _Erizo_ interposing,) if you thrust home, you injure me, your Friend.' 'You have forfeited that t.i.tle, (said _Gonzago_ all in Choler,) and therefore if you stand not aside, I'll push at you.'

'Thrust home then, (said _Erizo_) and take what follows.' They immediately a.s.saulted each other vigorously. 'Hold, Gentlemen, (said _Dangerfield_ striking down their Swords) by righting your selves you injure me, robbing me of that Satisfaction, which you both owe me, and therefore, Gentlemen, you shall fight me, before any private Quarrel among your selves defraud me of my Revenge, and so one or both of you,'

thrusting first at _Erizo_. 'I'm your Man,' (said _Gonzago_) parrying the Thrust made at _Erizo_. The Clas.h.i.+ng of so many Swords alarm'd some Gentlemen at their _Mattins_ in the Church, among whom was _Rinaldo_, who since the Death of his Wife, had constantly attended Morning-Service at the Church, wherein she was buried. He with Two or Three more, upon the Noise ran out, and parting the three Combatants, desired to know the Occasion of their Promiscuous Quarrel. _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ knowing _Rinaldo_, gave him an Account of the Matter, as also who the Stranger was. _Rinaldo_ was overjoy'd to find the brave _Britain_, whom he had received so great a Character of, from his Brother the Admiral, and accosting him very Courteously, 'Sir, (said he) I am sorry our Countrymen shou'd be so Ungrateful as to Injure any Person, who has been so Serviceable to the State; and pray, Gentlemen, (added he, addressing the other two) be intreated to suspend your Animosities, and come Dine with me at my House, where I hope to prevail with you to end your Resentments.' _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ hearing him Compliment the Stranger at their Expence, told him in a Rage, they wou'd chuse some other Place than his House, to end their Resentments in, and walk'd off.

_Dangerfield_, on _Rinaldo's_ farther Request, accompanied him to his House.

_Maria_ had newly risen, and with her Night-gown only thrown loose about her, had look'd out of the Window, just as her Father and _Dangerfield_ were approaching the Gate, at the same Instant she cast her Eyes upon _Dangerfield_, and he accidentally look'd up to the Window where she stood, their Surprize was mutual, but that of _Dangerfield_ the greater; he saw such an amazing Sight of Beauty, as made him doubt the Reality of the Object, or distrust the Perfection of his Sight; he saw his dear Lady, who had so captivated him the preceeding Day, he saw her in all the heightning Circ.u.mstances of her Charms, he saw her in all her native Beauties, free from the Inc.u.mbrance of Dress, her Hair as black as Ebony, hung flowing in careless Curls over her Shoulders, it hung link'd in amorous Twinings, as if in Love with its own Beauties; her Eyes not yet freed from the Dullness of the late Sleep, cast a languis.h.i.+ng Pleasure in their Aspect, which heaviness of Sight added the greatest Beauties to those Suns, because under the Shade of such a Cloud, their l.u.s.tre cou'd only be view'd; the lambent Drowsiness that play'd upon her Face, seem'd like a thin Veil not to hide, but to heighten the Beauty which it cover'd; her Night-gown hanging loose, discover'd her charming Bosom, which cou'd bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with an easy Heaving, show'd the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin; their Motions were so languis.h.i.+ngly soft, that they cou'd not be said to rise and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which seem'd to melt them down again; some scatter'd jetty Hairs, which hung confus'dly over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, made her Bosom show like _Venus_ caught in _Vulcan's_ Net, but 'twas the Spectator, not she, was captivated. This _Dangerfield_ saw, and all this at once, and with Eyes that were adapted by a preparatory Potion; what must then his Condition be? He was stricken with such Amazement, that he was forced to Support himself, by leaning on _Rinaldo's_ Arm, who started at his sudden Indisposition.

'I'm afraid, Sir, (said he) you have received some Wound in the Duel.'

'Oh! Sir, (said he) I am mortally wounded'; but recollecting himself after a little Pause, 'now I am better.' _Rinaldo_ wou'd have sent for a Surgeon to have it searched. 'Your pardon, Sir, (said _Dangerfield_) my Indisposition proceeds from an inward Malady, not by a Sword, but like those made by _Achilles's_ Spear, nothing can cure, but what gave the Wound.' _Rinaldo_ guessing at the Distemper, but not the Cause of it, out of good Manners declined any further enquiry, but conducting him in, entertained him with all the Courtesy imaginable; but in half a Hour, a Messenger came from the Senate, requiring his immediate Attendance; he lying under an indispensable Necessity of making his personal Appearance, begg'd _Dangerfield's_ Pardon, intreating him to stay, and command his House till his return, and conducting him to a fine Library, said he might there find Entertainment, if he were addicted to Study; adding withal, as a farther Engagement of his Patience, that he should meet the Admiral at the Senate, whom he wou'd bring home as an Addition to their Company at Dinner. _Dangerfield_ needed none of these Motives to stay, being detained by a secret Inclination to the Place; walking therefore into the Library, _Rinaldo_ went to the Senate. _Dangerfield_ when alone, fell into deep Ruminating on his strange Condition, he knew himself in the House, with one of his dear Charmers, but durst not hope to see her, which added to his Torment; like _Tantalus_ remov'd the farther from Happiness, by being nearer to it, contemplated so far on the Beauties of that dear Creature, that he concluded, if her Wit were like that of his t'other Mistress, he wou'd endeavour to confine his Pa.s.sion wholly to that Object.

In the mean Time, _Maria_ was no less confounded, she knew herself in Love with a Stranger, whose Residence was uncertain, she knew her own Modesty in concealing it; and alas! she knew her Dumbness uncapable of ever revealing it, at least, it must never expect any Return; she had gather'd from her Sister's Discourse, that she was her Rival; a Rival, who had the Precedency in Age, as the Advantage in Wit, and Intreague, which want of Speech render'd her uncapable of; these Reflections, as they drew her farther from the dear Object, brought her nearer Despair; her Sister was gone that Morning with her Unkle, the Admiral, about two Miles from _Venice_, to drink some Mineral Waters, and _Maria_ finding nothing to divert her, goes down to her Father's Library, to ease her Melancholy by reading. She was in the same loose Habit in which she appeared at the Window, her Distraction of Thought not permitting her any Care in dressing herself; she enter'd whilst _Dangerfield's_ Thoughts were bent by a full Contemplation of her Idea, insomuch that his Surprize represented her as a Phantom only, created by the Strength of his Fancy; her depth of Thought had cast down her Eyes in a fix'd Posture so low, that she discover'd not _Dangerfield_, till she stood close where he sat, but then so sudden an Appearance of what she so lov'd, struck so violently on her Spirits, that she fell in a Swoon, and fell directly into _Dangerfield's_ Arms; this soon wakened him from his Dream of Happiness, to a Reality of Bliss, he found his Phantom turn'd into the most charming Piece of Flesh and Blood that ever was, he found her, whom just now he despair'd of seeing; he found her with all her Beauties flowing loose in his Arms, the Greatness of the Pleasure rais'd by the two heightning Circ.u.mstances of Unexpectancy and Surprize, was too large for the Capacity of his Soul, he found himself beyond Expression happy, but could not digest the Surfeit; he had no sooner Leisure to consider on his Joy, but he must reflect on the Danger of her that caus'd it, which forced him to suspend his Happiness to administer some Relief to her expiring Senses: He had a Bottle of excellent Spirits in his Pocket, which holding to her Nose, soon recover'd her; she finding herself in the Arms of a Man, and in so loose a Dress, blush'd now more red, than she look'd lately pale; and disengaging herself in a Confusion, wou'd have flung from him; but he gently detaining her by a precarious Hold, threw himself on his Knees, and with the greatest Fervency of Pa.s.sion cry'd out: 'For Heavens sake, dearest Creature, be not offended at the accidental Blessing which Fortune, not Design, hath cast upon me; (She wou'd have rais'd him up,) No Madam, (continu'd he) never will I remove from this Posture, 'till you have p.r.o.nounc'd my Pardon; I love you, Madam, to that Degree, that if you leave me in a distrust of your Anger, I cannot survive it; I beg, intreat, conjure you to speak, your Silence torments me worse than your Reproaches cou'd; am I so much disdain'd, that you will not afford me one Word?' The lamentable Plight of the wretched Lady every one may guess, but no Body can comprehend; she saw the dearest of Mankind prostrate at her Feet, and imploring what she wou'd as readily grant as he desire, yet herself under a Necessity of denying his Prayers, and her own easy Inclinations.

The Motions of her Soul, wanting the freedom of Utterance, were like to tear her Heart asunder by so narrow a Confinement, like the force of Fire pent up, working more impetuously; 'till at last he redoubling his Importunity, her Thoughts wanting Conveyance by the Lips, burst out at her Eyes in a Flood of Tears; then moving towards a Writing-Desk, he following her still on his Knees, amidst her Sighs and Groans she took Pen and Paper, writ two Lines, which she gave him folded up, then flinging from him, ran up to her Chamber: He strangely surpriz'd at this odd manner of Proceeding, opening the Paper, read the following Words:

_You can't my Pardon, nor my Anger move.

For know, alas! I'm dumb, alas! I love._

He was wonderfully Amaz'd reading these Words. 'Dumb, (cried he out) naturally Dumb? O ye n.i.g.g.ard Powers, why was such a wond'rous Piece of Art left imperfect?' He had many other wild Reasonings upon the lamentable Subject, but falling from these to more calm Reflections, he examined her Note again, and finding by the last Words that she loved him, he might presently imagine, that if he found not some Means of declaring the Continuance of his Love, the innocent Lady might conjecture herself slighted, upon the Discovery of her Affection and Infirmity: Prompted, by which Thought, and animated by the Emotions of his Pa.s.sion, he ventured to knock at her Door; she having by this Time dressed herself, ventured to let him in: _Dangerfield_ ran towards her, and catching her with an eager Embrace, gave her a thousand Kisses; 'Madam, (said he) you find that pardoning Offences only prepares more, by emboldning the Offender; but, I hope, Madam,' shewing her the Note, 'this is a general Pardon for all Offences of this sort, by which I am so encouraged to Transgress, that I shall never cease Crimes of this Nature'; Kissing her again. His Happiness was interrupted by _Belvideera's_ coming Home, who running up Stairs, called, 'Sister, Sister, I have News to tell you': Her Voice alarms _Maria_, who fearing the Jealousy of _Belvideera_, shou'd she find _Dangerfield_ in her Bed-Chamber, made Signs that he shou'd run into the Closet, which she had just lock'd as _Belvideera_ came in: 'Oh, Sister! (said _Belvideera_) in a lucky Hour went I abroad this Morning.' In a more lucky Hour stay'd I at home this Morning, thought _Maria_. 'I have, (continued she,) been Instrumental in parting two Gentlemen fighting this Morning, and what is more, my Father had parted them before, when engag'd with the fine _English_ Gentleman we saw at the Ball yesterday; but the greatest News of all is, that this fine _English_ Gentleman is now in the House, and must Dine here to Day; but you must not appear, Sister, because 'twere a Shame to let Strangers know that you are Dumb.'

_Maria_ perceived her Jealousy, pointed to her Limbs, intimating thereby, that it was as great a Shame for her to be seen by Strangers; but she made farther Signs, that since it was her Pleasure, she wou'd keep her Chamber all that Day, and not appear abroad. _Belvideera_ was extreamly glad of her Resolution, hoping that she shou'd enjoy _Dangerfield's_ Conversation without any Interruption. The Consternation of the Spark in the Closet all this while was not little, he heard the Voice of the Charmer, that had so captivated him, he found that she was Sister to that Lady, whom he just now was making so many Protestations to, but he cou'd not imagine how she was Instrumental in parting the two Gentlemen, that shou'd have fought him; the Occasion was this:

_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, parting from _Rinaldo_ and _Dangerfield_, had walk'd towards the _Rialto_, and both exasperated that they had missed their intended Revenge against _Dangerfield_, turned their Fury upon each other, first raising their Anger by incensed Expostulations, then drawing their Swords, engaged in a desperate Combat, when a Voice very loud calling, (_Erizo_, hold) stopt their Fury to see whence it proceeded; when a Coach driving at full Flight stopt close by them, and _Francisco_ the _Venetian_ Admiral leaped out with his Sword drawn, saying, 'Gentlemen, pray let me be an Instrument of Pacification: As for your part, _Erizo_, this Proceeding suits not well with the Business I am to move in Favour of you in the Senate to Day; the Post you sue for claims your Blood to be spilt against the common Foe, not in private Resentment, to the Destruction of a Citizen; and therefore I intreat you as my Friend, or I command you as your Officer, to put up.' _Erizo_, unwilling to disoblige his Admiral, upon whose Favour his Advancement depended, told _Gonzago_, that he must find another time to talk with him. 'No, no, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall not part 'till I have reconciled you, and therefore let me know your Cause of Quarrel.'

_Erizo_ therefore related to him the whole Affair, and mentioning that _Dangerfield_ was gone Home to Dine with _Rinaldo_; 'With _Rinaldo_ my Father?' said _Belvideera_ from the Coach, overjoy'd with Hopes of seeing _Dangerfield_ at Home. 'Yes, (reply'd _Gonzago_ surpriz'd) if _Rinaldo_ the Senator be your Father, Madam.' 'Yes, he is,' reply'd _Belvideera_. _Gonzago_ then knew her to be the Lady he was enamour'd of, and for whom he wou'd have fought _Dangerfield_; and now cursed his ill Fate, that he had deny'd _Rinaldo's_ Invitation, which lost him the Conversation of his Mistress, which his Rival wou'd be sure of. 'Come, come, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall accompany me to see this Stranger at _Rinaldo's_ House, I bear a great Esteem for him, and so it behoves every loyal _Venetian_, for whose Service he hath been so signal.' _Erizo_, unwilling to deny the Admiral, and _Gonzago_ glad of an Opportunity of his Mistress's Company, which he just now thought lost, consented to the Proposal, and mounting all into the Coach, the three Gentlemen were set down at the Senate, and the Lady drove Home as above-mentioned.

_Rinaldo_ in the mean Time was not idle in the Senate, there being a Motion made for Election of a Captain to the _Rialto_ Galleon, made void by the Death of its former Commander in the late Fight, and which was the Post designed by the Admiral for _Erizo_. _Rinaldo_ catching an Opportunity of obliging _Dangerfield_, for whom he entertain'd a great Love and Respect, proposed him as a Candidate for the Command, urging his late brave Performance against the _Turks_, and how much it concerned the Interest of the State to encourage Foreigners. He being the Admiral's Brother, and being so fervent in the Affair, had by an unanimous Consent his Commission sign'd just as his Brother came into the Senate, who fearing how Things were carried, comforted _Erizo_ by future Preferment; but _Erizo_, however he stifled his Resentment, was struck with Envy, that a Stranger, and his Enemy shou'd be preferred to him, and resolved Revenge on the first Opportunity. They all went home with _Rinaldo_, and arrived whilst _Belvideera_ was talking above Stairs with her Sister. _Rinaldo_, impatient to communicate his Success to _Dangerfield_, ran into the Study, where he left him; but missing him there, went into the Garden, and searching all about, returned to the Company, telling them he believ'd _Dangerfield_ had fallen asleep in some private Arbor in the Garden, where he cou'd not find him, or else impatient of his long stay, had departed; but he was sure, if he had gone, he wou'd soon return: However they went to Dinner, and _Belvideera_ came down, making an Apology for her Sister's Absence, thro' an Indisposition that had seized her. _Gonzago_ had his wished for Opportunity of entertaining his Mistress, whilst she always expecting some News of _Dangerfield_, sat very uneasie in his Company; whilst _Dangerfield_ in the Closet, was as impatient to see her. The short Discourse she had with her Sister, gave him a.s.surance that his Love wou'd not be unacceptable. _Maria_ durst not open the Closet, afraid that her Sister shou'd come up every Minute, besides, 'twas impossible to convey him out of the Chamber undiscovered, untill 'twas dark, which made him Wonder what occasioned his long Confinement; and being tired with sitting, got up to the Window, and softly opening the Cas.e.m.e.nt, looked out to take the Air; his Footman walking accidentally in the Court, and casting up his Eye that way, spy'd him, which confirm'd his Patience in attending for him at the Gate; at length it grew Dark, and _Maria_ knowing that her Sister was engag'd in a Match at Cards with her Father, _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, the Admiral being gone, she came softly to the Closet, and innocently took _Dangerfield_ by the Hand, to lead him out, he clapt the dear soft Hand to his Mouth, and kissing it eagerly, it fired his Blood, and the unhappy Opportunity adding to the Temptation, raised him to the highest Pitch of Pa.s.sion; he found himself with the most beautiful Creature in the World, one who loved him, he knew they were alone in the Dark, in a Bed-chamber, he knew the Lady young and melting, he knew besides she cou'd not tell, and he was conscious of his Power in moving; all these wicked Thoughts concurring, establish'd him in the Opinion, that this was the critical Minute of his Happiness, resolving therefore not to lose it, he fell down on his Knees, devouring her tender Hand, sighing out his Pa.s.sion, begging her to Crown it with her Love, making Ten thousand Vows and Protestations of his Secrecy and Constancy, urging all the Arguments that the Subtilty of the Devil or Man could suggest. She held out against all his a.s.saults above two Hours, and often endeavoured to Struggle from him, but durst make no great Disturbance, thro' fear of Alarming the Company below, at last he redoubling his Pa.s.sion with Sighs, Tears, and all the rest of Love's Artillery, he at last gain'd the Fort, and the poor conquered Lady, all panting, soft, and trembling every Joynt, melted by his Embraces, he there fatally enjoy'd the greatest Extasy of Bliss, heightned by the Circ.u.mstances of Stealth, and Difficulty in obtaining.

The ruin'd Lady now too late deplored the Loss of her Honour; but he endeavour'd to Comfort her by making Vows of Secrecy, and promising to salve her Reputation by a speedy Marriage, which he certainly intended, had not the unhappy _Crisis_ of his Fate been so near. The Company by this Time had gone off, and _Belvideera_ had retir'd to her Chamber, melancholy that she had missed her Hopes of seeing _Dangerfield_.

_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ going out of the Gate, saw _Dangerfield's_ Footman, whom they knew, since they saw him with his Master in the Morning. _Gonzago_ asked him why he waited there? 'For my Master, Sir,'

reply'd the Footman. 'Your Master is not here sure,' said _Gonzago_.

'Yes, but he is, Sir,' said the Servant, 'for I attended him hither this Morning with _Rinaldo_, and saw him in the Afternoon look out of a Window above Stairs.' 'Ha!' said _Gonzago_, calling _Erizo_ aside, 'by Heavens, he lies here to Night then, and perhaps with my Mistress; I perceiv'd she was not pressing for our Stay, but rather urging our Departure. _Erizo_, _Erizo_, this Block must be remov'd, he has stepped between you and a Command to Day, and perhaps may lye between me and my Mistress to Night.' 'By h.e.l.l (answered _Erizo_) thou hast raised a Fury in me, that will not be lulled asleep, but by a Potion of his Blood; let's dispatch this Blockhead first': And running at the Footman, with one Thrust killed him. _Dangerfield_ by this time had been let out, and hearing the Noise, ran to the Place; they presently a.s.saulted him; he defended himself very bravely the s.p.a.ce of some Minutes, having wounded _Gonzago_ in the Breast; when _Rinaldo_ hearing the Noise, came out; but too late for _Dangerfield's_ Relief, and too soon for his own Fate; for _Gonzago_, exasperated by his Wound, ran treacherously behind _Dangerfield_, and thrust him quite thro' the Body. He finding the mortal Wound, and wild with Rage, thrust desperately forward at _Erizo_, when at the instant _Rinaldo_ striking in between to part them, received _Dangerfield's_ Sword in his Body, which pierced him quite thro'. He no sooner fell, than _Dangerfield_ perceived his fatal Error, and the other Two fled. _Dangerfield_ curs'd his Fate, and begg'd with all the Prayers and Earnestness of a dying Man, that _Rinaldo_ wou'd forgive him. 'Oh!'

said _Rinaldo_, 'you have ill rewarded me for my Care in your Concerns in the Senate to Day.' The Servants coming out, took up _Rinaldo_, and _Dangerfield_ leaning upon his Sword, they led him in. _Belvideera_ first heard the Noise, and running down first met the horrid Spectacle, her dear Father breathing out his last, and her Lover, whom she had all that Day flattered her self with Hopes of seeing, she now beheld in Streams of his Blood; but what must poor _Maria's_ Case be? besides the Grief for her Father's Fate, she must view that dear Man, lately Happy in her Embraces, now folded in the Arms of Death, she finds herself bereft of a Parent, her Love, her Honour, and the Defender of it, all at once; and the greatest Torment is, that she must bear all this Anguish, and cannot Ease her Soul by expressing it. _Belvideera_ sat wiping the Blood from her Father's Wound, whilst mournful _Maria_ sat by _Dangerfield_, administring all the Help she cou'd to his fainting Spirits; whilst he viewed her with greater Excess of Grief, than he had heretofore with Pleasure; being sensible what was the Force of her silent Grief, and the Wrong he had done her, which now he cou'd never Redress: He had accidentally dropt his Wig in the Engagement, and inclining his Head over the Couch where he lay, _Rinaldo_ casting his Eye upon him, perceiv'd the Mark of a b.l.o.o.d.y Dagger on his Neck, under his left Ear: 'Sir, (said _Rinaldo_, raising himself up) I conjure you answer me directly, were you born with the Mark of that Dagger, or have you received it since by Accident.' 'I was certainly born with it,'

answer'd he. 'Just such a Mark had my Son _Cosmo_, who was lost in the _Adriatick_.' 'How! (reply'd _Dangerfield_, starting up with a wild Confusion) Lost! say'st thou in the _Adriatick_? Your Son lost in the _Adriatick_?' 'Yes, yes,' said _Rinaldo_, 'too surely lost in the _Adriatick_.' 'O ye impartial Powers (said _Dangerfield_), why did you not reveal this before? Or why not always conceal it? How happy had been the Discovery some few Hours ago, and how Tragical is it now? For know,'

continued he, addressing himself to _Rinaldo_, 'know that my suppos'd Father, who was a _Turky_ Merchant, upon his Death-bed call'd me to him, and told me 'twas time to undeceive me, I was not his Son, he found me in the _Adriatick_ Sea, ty'd to two Planks in his Voyage from _Smyrna_ to _London_; having no Children, he educated me as his own, and finding me worth his Care, left me all his Inheritance with this dying Command, that I shou'd seek my Parents at _Venice_.' _Belvideera_ hearkning all this while to the lamentable Story, then conjectured whence proceeded the natural Affection the whole Family bore him, and embracing him, cry'd out, 'Oh my unhappy Brother.' _Maria_ all the while had strong and wild Convulsions of Sorrow within her, 'till the working Force of her Anguish racking at once all the Pa.s.sages of her Breast, by a violent Impulse, broke the Ligament that doubled in her Tongue, and she burst out with this Exclamation; 'Oh! Incest, Incest.' _Dangerfield_ eccho'd that Outcry with this, 'O! Horror, Horror, I have enjoy'd my Sister, and murder'd my Father.' _Maria_ running distracted about the Chamber, at last spy'd _Dangerfield's_ Sword, by which he had supported himself into the House, and catching it up, reeking with the Blood of her Father, plung'd it into her Heart, and throwing herself into _Dangerfield's_ Arms, calls out, 'O my Brother, O my Love,' and expir'd. All the Neighbourhood was soon alarm'd by the Out-cries of the Family. I lodged within three Doors of _Rinaldo's_ House, and running presently thither, saw a more b.l.o.o.d.y Tragedy in Reality, than what the most moving Scene ever presented; the Father and Daughter were both dead, the unfortunate Son was gasping out his last, and the surviving Sister most miserable, because she must survive such Misfortunes, cry'd to me; 'O! behold the Fate of your wretched Countryman.' I cou'd make no Answer, being struck dumb by the Horror of such woeful Objects; but _Dangerfield_ hearing her name his Country, turning towards me, with a languis.h.i.+ng and weak Tone, 'Madam,' said he, 'I was your Countryman, and wou'd to Heavens I were so still; if you hear my Story mention'd, on your Return to _England_, pray give these strange Turns of my Fate not the Name of Crimes, but favour them with the Epithet of Misfortunes; my Name is not Dangerfield, but _Cla_--' His Voice there fail'd him, and he presently dy'd; Death seeming more favourable than himself, concealing the fatal Author of so many Misfortunes, for I cou'd never since learn out his Name; but have done him the justice, I hope, to make him be pity'd for his Misfortunes, not hated for his Crimes. _Francisco_ being sent for, had _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ apprehended, condemn'd, and executed. _Belvideera_ consign'd all her Father's Estate over to her Uncle, reserving only a Competency to maintain her a Recluse all the rest of her Life.

NOTES: The Dumb Virgin.

p. 429 _Dangerfield._ This name is not to be found in any one of Mrs.

Behn's plays, but as it does occur in Sedley's _Bellamira; or, The Mistress_ (1687), one can only conclude that Aphra gave it to Sir Charles and altered her own character's nomenclature. Mrs. Behn, it may be remembered, was more than once extraordinarily careless with regard to the names of the Dramatis Personae in her comedies. A striking example occurs in _Sir Patient Fancy_, where the 'precise clerk' is called both Abel and Bartholomew. In _The Feign'd Curtezans_ Silvio and Sabina are persistently confused, and again, in _The Town Fop_ (Vol. III, p. 15 and p. 20), the name Dresswell is retained for Friendlove. Sedley's _Bellamira_ is derived from Terence's _Eunuchus_, and Dangerfield is Thraso; the Pyrgopolinices, Miles Gloriosus, of Plautus.

Cross-Reference from Introduction: _The Dumb Virgin_

Beginning: Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so romantically and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on the Source of that play, Vol. I, p. 218.

Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of "Source" section:

Mrs. Behn founded the plot of _The Dutch Lover_ upon the stories of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish novel ent.i.tled '_The History of Don Fenise_, a new Romance written in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,' 8vo, 1651.

THE WANDERING BEAUTY.

I was not above twelve Years old, as near as I can remember, when a Lady of my Acquaintance, who was particularly concern'd in many of the Pa.s.sages, very pleasantly entertain'd me with the Relation of the young Lady _Arabella's_ Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir _Francis Fairname_, a Gentleman of a n.o.ble Family, and of a very large Estate in the West of _England_, a true Church-Man, a great Loyalist, and a most discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way inferiour to him in every Circ.u.mstance of Virtue. They had only two Children more, and those were of the soft, unhappy s.e.x too; all very beautiful, especially _Arabella_, and all very much alike; piously educated, and courtly too, of naturally-virtuous Principles and Inclinations.

'Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir _Robert Richland_, her Father's great Friend and inseparable Companion, but superiour to him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty of this young Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like to have been as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical Year of Sixty Three, in which he dy'd, as I am told, though he was then hardly Sixty.

However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated in the Summer's Nacturine. His unseasonable Appet.i.te grew so strong and inordinate, that he was oblig'd to discover it to Sir _Francis_; who, though he lov'd him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his Daughter's Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband; especially, when he consider'd the great Disproportion in their Age, which he rightly imagin'd would be very disagreeable to _Arabella's_ Inclinations: This made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading Arguments in his Capacity, to convince Sir _Robert_ of the Inequality of such a Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Pa.s.sion increasing each Day more violently, the more a.s.siduously, and with the greater Vehemence, he press'd his Friend to use his Interest and Authority with his Lady and Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural Proposition; offering this as the most weighty and prevailing Argument, (which undoubtedly it was,) That since he was a Batchelor, he would settle his whole Estate upon her, if she surviv'd him, on the Day of Marriage, not desiring one Penny as a Portion with her. This Discourse wrought so powerfully with her Mother, that she promis'd the old Lover all the a.s.sistance he could hope or expect from her: In order to which, the next Day she acquainted her fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage she was like to have, if she would but consent _to lye by the Parchment that convey'd them to her_.

The dear, fair Creature, was so surpriz'd at this Overture made by her Mother, that her Roses turn'd all into Lillies, and she had like to have swoon'd away; but having a greater Command of her Pa.s.sions than usually our s.e.x have, and chiefly Persons of her Age, she, after some little Disorder, which by no Means she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a Return to her Mother's Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit; and, for that Time, got Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the Misfortune which she partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas) was no Cure of her Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly attack'd by her Father and Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest and Duty could urge, which she endeavour'd to obviate by all the Arguments that Nature and Inclination could offer; but she found them all in vain, since they continu'd their ungrateful Solicitations for several Days together, at the End of which, they both absolutely commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir _Robert_; so that finding her self under a Necessity of complying, or at least of seeming so, she made 'em hope, that her Duty had overcome her Aversion; upon which she had a whole Week's Liberty to walk where she would, unattended, or with what Company she pleas'd, and to make Visits to whom she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance thereabouts; tho' for three or four Days before, she was strictly confin'd to her Chamber.

After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time, she propos'd to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of hers, who liv'd about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before discours'd very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality Sir _Robert_ should keep when she was marry'd to him: All which was highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and kissing her for it, which she return'd to 'em both with a Shower of Tears. This did not a little surprize 'em at first, but asking her what could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the late Subject? She answer'd, 'That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.' This affectionate Reply did amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of 'em, after having desir'd that they would not be uneasy if she should not return 'till a little before 'twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her, considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs, especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when they had walk'd with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their own.

Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and Mother had left her, unless when they had press'd her to a Marriage with the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e're she took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu'd 'till past eight at Night, having walk'd ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir _Francis_ and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife, who had one only Child, a Daughter, about the Lady _Arabella's_ Age and Stature. 'Twas happy for her she got thither before they were a Bed; for her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be tir'd, and her tender Feet to be gall'd. To the good Woman of the House she applies her self, desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering her any reasonable Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her, had Compa.s.sion of her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her, that she might lye with her Daughter, if she pleas'd, who was very cleanly, tho' not very vine. The good Man of the House came in soon after, was very well pleas'd with his new Guest; so to Supper they went very seasonably; for the poor young Lady, who was e'en ready to faint with Thirst, and not overcharg'd with what she had eaten the Day before. After Supper they ask'd her whence she came, and how she durst venture to travel alone, and a Foot? To which she reply'd, That she came from a Relation who liv'd at _Exeter_, with whom she had stay'd 'till she found she was burthensome: That she was of _Welsh_ Parents, and of a good Family; but her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with whom she could by no Means continue, especially since she would have forc'd her to marry an old Man, whom it was impossible she should love, tho' he was very rich: That she was now going to seek her Fortune in _London_, where she hop'd, at least, to get her a good Service. They all seem'd to pity her very heartily; and, in a little Time after, they went to their two several Apartments, in one of which _Arabella_ and the Damsel of the House went to Bed, where the young Lady slept soundly, notwithstanding the Hardness of her Lodging. In the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable Custom, the young hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which waken'd _Arabella_, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge, proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so well pleas'd, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady confirm'd it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be made on even Hands. 'If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother) you shall e'en have her Sunday-Cloaths.' 'Agreed (return'd _Arabella_) but we must change s.h.i.+fts too; I have now a Couple about me, new and clean, I do a.s.sure you: For my Hoods and Head-dress you shall give me two Pinners, and her best Straw-Hat; and for my Shoes, which I have not worn above a Week, I will have her Holliday Shoes.' 'A Match, indeed, young Mistress,' cry'd the good Wife. So without more Ceremony, the young unhappy Lady was attir'd in her Bedfellow's Country Weeds, by Help of the Mother and Daughter. Then, after she had taken her Leave of the good old Man too, she put a broad round s.h.i.+lling into his Wife's Hand, as a Reward for her Supper and Lodging, which she would fain have return'd, but t'other would not receive it. 'Nay, then, by the Mackins, (said her Hostess) you shall take a Breakfast e're you go, and a Dinner along with you, for Fear you should be sick by the Way.' _Arabella_ stay'd to eat a Mess of warm Milk, and took some of their Yesterday's Provision with her in a little course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the direct Road to _London_, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her last Farewel of them.

Near Twelve at Noon she came to a pleasant Meadow, through which there ran a little Rivulet of clear Water, about nine miles from her last Lodging, but quite out of the Way to _London_. Here she sate down, and after drinking some of the Water out of the Hollow of her Hand, she open'd her Bag, and made as good a Meal as the Courseness of the Fare, and the Niceness of her Appet.i.te would permit: After which, she bruis'd the outward green Sh.e.l.ls of a Wall-nut or two, and smear'd her lovely Face, Hands, and Part of her Arms, with the Juice; then looking into the little purling Stream, that seem'd to murmur at the Injury she did to so much Beauty, she sigh'd and wept, to think to what base Extremities she was now likely to be reduc'd! That she should be forc'd to stain that Skin which Heaven had made so pure and white! 'But ah! (cry'd she to her self) if my Disobedience to my Parents had not stain'd my Conscience worse, this needed not to have been done.' Here she wept abundantly again; then, drying her Eyes, she wash'd her Feet to refresh 'em, and thence continu'd her Journey for ten Miles more, which she compa.s.s'd by seven a Clock; when she came to a Village, where she got Entertainment for that Night, paying for it, and the next Morning, before Six, as soon as she had fill'd her little Bag with what good Chear the Place afforded, she wander'd on 'till Twelve again, still crossing the Country, and taking her Course to the Northern Parts of _England_, which doubtless was the Reason her Father and his Servants miss'd of her in their Pursuit; for he imagin'd that for certain she had taken her nearest Way to _London_. After she had refresh'd her self for an Hour's Time by the Side of a Wood, she arose and wander'd again near twelve Miles by eight a Clock, and lodg'd at a good substantial Farmer's.

Thus she continu'd her Errantry for above a Fortnight, having no more Money than just thirty s.h.i.+llings, half of which brought her to Sir _Christian Kindly's_ House in _Lancas.h.i.+re_. 'Twas near five a Clock in the Afternoon when she reach'd that happy Port, when, coming to the Hall Door, she enquir'd for the Lady of the House, who happily was just coming into the Hall with a little Miss in her Arms, of about four Years old, very much troubled with weak and sore Eyes: The fair Wanderer, addressing her self to the Lady with all the Humility and Modesty imaginable, begg'd to know if her Ladys.h.i.+p had any Place in her Family vacant, in which she might do her Service? To which the Lady return'd, (by Way of Question) Alas! poor Creature! what canst thou do? Any thing, may it please your Ladys.h.i.+p, (reply'd the disguis'd Beauty) any thing within my Strength and my Knowledge, I mean, Madam. Thou say'st well, (said the Lady) and I'm sorry I have not any vacant for thee. I beseech your Ladys.h.i.+p then (said _Arabella_) let me lodge in your Barn to-Night; for I am told it is a great Way hence to any Town, and I have but little Money. In my Barn, poor Girl! (cry'd the Lady, looking very earnestly on her) ay, G.o.d forbid else, unless we can find a better Lodging for thee.

Art thou hungry or thirsty? Yes, Madam (reply'd the wandering Fair One) I could both eat and drink, if it please your Ladys.h.i.+p. The Lady commanded Victuals and Drink to be brought, and could not forbear staying in the Hall 'till she had done; when she ask'd her several Questions, as of what Country she was? To which she answer'd truly, of _Somersets.h.i.+re_. What her Parents were, and if living? To which she return'd, They were good, honest, and religious People, and she hop'd they were alive, and in as good Health as when she left 'em. After the Lady had done catechising her, _Arabella_, looking on the little Child in her Ladys.h.i.+p's Arms, said, Pardon me, Madam, I beseech you, if I am too bold in asking your Ladys.h.i.+p how that pretty Creature's Eyes came to be so bad? By an extream Cold which she took, (reply'd the Lady.) I had not presum'd (return'd t'other) to have ask'd your Ladys.h.i.+p this Question, were I not a.s.sur'd that I have an infallible Cure for the Infirmity; and if, Madam, you will be pleas'd to let me apply it, I will tell your Ladys.h.i.+p the Remedy in private. The Lady was much surpriz'd to hear a young Creature, so meanly habited, talk so genteelly; and after surveying her very strictly, said the Lady, Have you ever experienc'd it before? Yes, Madam (reply'd the fair Physician) and never without happy Success: I dare engage, Madam, (added she) that I will make 'em as well as my own, by G.o.d's Blessing, or else I will be content to lose mine, which Heaven forbid. Amen, (cry'd the good Lady) for they are very fine ones, on my Word.--Stay, Child, I will desire Sir _Christian_ to hear it with me; and if he approves it, you shall about it; and if it take good Effect, we will endeavour to requite the Care and Pains it shall cost you. Saying thus, she immediately left her, and return'd very speedily with Sir _Christian_, who having discours'd _Arabella_ for some time, with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, took her into the Parlour with his Lady, where she communicated her Secret to 'em both; which they found so innocent and reasonable, that they desir'd her to prepare it as soon as possible, and to make her Application of it with all convenient Speed; which she could not do 'till the next Morning. In the mean Time she was order'd a Lodging with the House-Maid, who reported to her Lady, That she found her a very sweet and cleanly Bed-fellow; (adding) That she never saw nor felt so white, so smooth, and soft a Skin. _Arabella_ continu'd her Remedy with such good Success, that in a Fortnight's Time little Miss's Eyes were as lively and strong as ever. This so endear'd her to the Knight and his Lady, that they created a new Office in their Family, purposely for her, which was, Attendant on their eldest Daughter _Eleanora_, a Lady much about her Years and Stature; who was so charm'd with her Conversation, that she could not stir Abroad, nor eat, nor sleep, without _Peregrina Goodhouse_ (for those were the Names she borrow'd:) Nor was her Modesty, Humility, and Sweetness of Temper, less engaging to her Fellow-Servants, who all strove which should best express their Love to her. On Festival-Days, and for the Entertainment of Strangers, she would lend her helping Hand to the Cook, and make the Sauce for every Dish, though her own Province was only to attend the young Lady, and prepare the Quidlings, and other Sweet-Meats, for the Reception of Sir _Christian's_ Friends; all which she did to Admiration.

In this State of easy Servitude she liv'd there for near three Years, very well contented at all Times, but when she bethought her self of her Father, Mother, and Sisters, courted by all the princ.i.p.al Men-Servants, whom she refus'd in so obliging a Manner, and with such sweet, obliging Words, that they could not think themselves injur'd, though they found their Addresses were in vain. Mr. _Prayfast_, the Chaplain himself, could not hold out against her Charms. For her Skin had long since recover'd its native Whiteness; nor did she need Ornaments of Cloaths to set her Beauty off, if any Thing could adorn her, since she was dress'd altogether as costly, though not so richly (perhaps) as _Eleanora_.

_Prayfast_ therefore found that the Spirit was too weak for the Flesh, and gave her very broad Signs of his Kindness in Sonnets, Anagrams, and Acrosticks, which she receiv'd very obligingly of him, taking a more convenient Time to laugh at 'em with her young Lady.

Her kind Reception of them encourag'd him to that Degree, that within a few Days after, supposing himself secure on her Side, he apply'd himself to the good old Knight, his Patron, for his Consent to a Marriage with her, who very readily comply'd with his Demands, esteeming it a very advantagious Match for _Peregrina_, and withal told him, That he would give him three hundred Pounds with her, besides the first Benefit that should fall in his Gift. But (said he) as I doubt not that you are sufficiently acquainted with her Virtues and other excellent Qualifications, 'tis necessary that you should know the worst that I can tell you of her, which is, that she came to us a meer Stranger, in a very mean, tho' cleanly Habit; and therefore, as she confesseth, we may conclude, of very humble, yet honest Parentage. A! (possibly) her Father might have been, or is, some Husbandman, or somewhat inferiour to that; for we took her up at the Door, begging one Night's Entertainment in the Barn. How, Sir! (cry'd _Prayfast_, starting) have you no better Knowledge of her Birth, than what you are pleas'd to discover now? No better, nor more (reply'd the Knight.) Alas! Sir, then (return'd the proud canonical Sort of a Farmer) she is no Wife for me; I shall dishonour my Family by marrying so basely. Were you never told any Thing of this before? (ask'd the Knight.) You know, Sir, (answer'd the Prelate that would be) that I have not had the Honour to officiate, as your Chaplain, much more than half a Year; in which Time, 'tis true, I have heard that she was receiv'd as a Stranger; but that she came in so low a Capacity I never learn'd 'till now. I find then, Parson, (said the Knight) that you do not like the Author of your Happiness, at least, who might be so, because she comes to you in such an humble Manner; I tell you the _Jews_ are miserable for the same Reason. She cannot be such perfectly to me (return'd t'other) without the Advantage of good Birth.

With that I'm sure she would not, return'd his Patron, and left him to go to _Peregrina_, whom he happily found alone. Child, (said he to her) have you any Obligation to Mr. _Prayfast_? As how, Sir? She ask'd. Do you love him? Have you made him any Promise of Marriage? Or has he any Way engag'd himself to you? Neither, Sir, (she answer'd.) 'Tis true, I love him as my Fellow-Servant, no otherwise. He has indeed been somewhat lavish of his Wit and Rhimes to me, which serv'd well enough to divert my young Lady and me. But of all Mankind, perhaps, he should be the last I would choose for a Husband. I thought (said the good-humour'd old Knight) that he had already obtain'd a Promise from you, since he came but just now to ask my Consent, which I freely gave him at first, upon that Thought; but he is doubtful of your Birth, and fears it may dishonour his Family, if he should marry you. On my Word, Sir, (return'd _Peregrina_, blus.h.i.+ng with Disdain, no doubt) our Families are by no Means equal. What thy Family is, I know not; (said Sir _Christian_) but I am sure thou art infinitely superiour to him in all the natural Embelishments both of Body and Mind. Be just to thy self, and be not hasty to wed: Thou hast more Merit than Wealth alone can purchase. O!

dear Sir, (she return'd) you ruin me with Obligations never to be re-paid, but in Acknowledgment, and that imperfectly too. Here they were interrupted by the young Lady, to whom she repeated the Conference betwixt Sir _Christian_ and _Prayfast_, as soon as ever Sir _Christian_ left the Room.

About a Week after, Sir _Lucius Lovewell_, (a young Gentleman, of a good Presence, Wit, and Learning enough, whose Father, dying near a Twelve-month before, had left him upwards of 3000_l._ a Year, which, too, was an excellent Accomplishment, tho' not the best; for he was admirably good-humour'd) came to visit Sir _Christian Kindly_; and, as some of the Family imagin'd, 'twas with Design to make his Addresses to the young Lady, Sir _Christian's_ Daughter. Whatever his Thoughts were, his Treatment, there, was very generous and kind. He saw the Lady, and lik'd her very well; nay, doubtless, would have admitted a Pa.s.sion for her, had not his Destiny at the same Time shewn him _Peregrina_. She was very beautiful, and he as sensible; and 'tis not to be doubted, but that he immediately took Fire. However, his Application and Courts.h.i.+p, free and unaffected, were chiefly directed to Sir _Christian's_ Daughter: Some little Respects he paid to _Peregrina_, who could not choose but look on him as a very fine, good-humour'd, and well-accomplish'd Gentleman. When the Hour came that he thought fit to retreat, Sir _Christian_ ask'd him, When he would make 'em happy again in his Conversation? To which he return'd, That since he was not above seven or eight Miles from him, and that there were Charms so attractive at Sir _Christian's_, he should take the Liberty to visit him sooner and oftener than he either expected or desir'd. T'other reply'd, That was impossible; and so, without much more Ceremony, he took his Leave of that delightful Company for two or three Days; at the End of which he return'd, with Thoughts much different from those at his first Coming thither, being strongly agitated by his Pa.s.sion for _Peregrina_. He took and made all the Opportunities and Occasions that Chance and his own Fancy could offer and present to talk to her, both before, at, and after Dinner; and his Eyes were so constantly fix'd on her, that he seem'd to observe nothing else; which was so visible to Sir _Christian_, his Lady, and Daughter, that they were convinc'd of their Error, in believing, that he came to make his Court to the young Lady. This late Discovery of the young Knight's Inclinations, was no Way unpleasant to Sir _Christian_ and his Lady; and to the young Lady it was most agreeable and obliging,