of the face, the fetched a scream, and fell upon the body in a fwoon. Her fervants concluding it to be fome one fhe was much concerned for, carried them both into the unnery, where the lady foon came to herself, and the count also began to shew signs of life, his Spirits being agitated by the motion. He was immediately put to bed, and a furgeon fent for, who declared his wounds to be dangerous, but not mortal. While they continued uncertain of his cure, the lady who brought him into the nunnery waited conftantly day and night at his bedfide, and nurfed him with a care that would not yield to a moment of repofe. As her face was always covered with a veil, he took her to be one of the nuns, and was aftonished at a charity fo officious. When he grew better, his curiofity increased, and he ardently preffed her to let him know to whom he owed fuch great obligations. · Are you a nun, Madam?' faid he. I hope you are not; for it would afflictine infinitely if I was ⚫ never to fee you more, after leaving a house where you have done me fo many favours. The lady for whom you fought,' answered the, will make you foon forget the loss of me; and,termined fhall be ever separated frota though I am not a nun, you will never you, I have had too many proofs of fee me out of the limits of thefe walls. your inconftancy to hope that my obligations can engage you; you never be faithful to ne alone, difdain to share you with another. It is happiness enough for me it have been the inftrument of preferving your life, though you .ifqued it for the fake of another woman; and all the return I afk of you is, to think of 'me fometimes with kindness, but never to attempt to fe me more!' but when he heard that his ftrength was quite returned, the came to him one morning, and spoke thus If you will know who fhe is that was fo afflicted when your life was in dangers that nurfed you so carefully in your illness; and is refolved to quit you for ever when you are well; think of your former gallantries at Madrid, of your prefen paffion for a mistress that defpifes you, and your ingratitude to a wife that always loved you; think of all this, and you will not wonder any longer at my actions. or my words. Yes, Aguilar, I am that wife, whofe fate it is to be ac quainted with all your infidelities, and to fmart for all your follies!" As the faid this, he lifted up her veil, and fhewed the aftonished Count a well known face, which he little expected to have feen in Flanders. All the paffions that can agitate the heart of man, thame, remorse, love, gratitude, invaded his in that moment. He threw himself at her feet, and with many tears implored her to forgive him. How, Madam!' faid he, was you ⚫ not out of them when you found me ⚫ on the ground, and faved my life?' Yes, replied the; I was returning from a visit to a convent in the town: ⚫ but I will take care not to stir from hence while you are at Bruffels, becaufe you are the only man in the world I would avoid.' This fpeech fo furprized him, that for fome time he was not able to make her any answer. At laft he told her, that her actions and her words entirely difagreed, and that he could not think himself fo hateful to her as fhe faid, when he reflected how kindly the had ufed him. Thefe riddles fhall be cleared to ⚫ you,' answered the, when you are ⚫ perfectly recovered: till then content yourself with knowing that I cannot hate you, but am as much determined to avoid you as if I could.' Thus ended a converfation which left the Count in a perplexity not to be defcribed. He faw her no more for a few days; She railed him, and affured him of her pardon; nay more, of her affection, But my perion,' faid the, I am de d Aguilar was on the rack to hear her talk in fo refolute a ftile; but he flattered himself it was owing to her jealousy of Mademoiselle Dalincourt. Being impa tient to make her easy on that head, he dispatched one of his fervants with Jetter to acquaint that lady with his res covery. He begged her earneftly to come to him at the nunnery; and, if poffible, to bring her lover with her. Polydore had abfconded a few days, till he heard that the Count was out of danger; after which he continued very publickly his addreffes to Dalincourt. While the messenger was bringing them to the nunnery, Aguilar demanded of Thefe afflictions made Madrid fo uneafy to me, that I could not bear to stay in it any longer. Luckily, about that time I received a letter from my coufin Eugenia Donna de Montalegre, a religious of this houfe, to inform 'me of her being elected abbefs; it inftantly occurred to me that no place could be more proper for my retreat than a monaftery, of which the was the head: fo, as foon as I could fettle my affairs, I left Spain, and put myself into a penfion under the government of Donna Eugenia; in which • manner I have lived ever since.' She had fearce finished this account, when they were interrupted by the arrival of Polydore and Dalincourt. Madame d' Augilar changed colour at the fight of her; but her husband embracing Polydore, affured him that he no longer looked upon him as a rival, but was glad to refign his mistress to a friend who fo well deferved her. Then he related to him the manner in which his wife had tended and preferved him; and expreffed fo much gratitude, so much love, that if any thing could have fhaken her refolution, this would certainly have done it. Mademoiselle Dalincourt feemed much affected at this relation, and told the countess fhe was infinitely concerned that he had been the innocent cause of her husband's danger; but that fhe hoped this accident would be a means of making them happy for the future, and put an end to his infidelities, and her refentment. My happiness too,' added the, 'is now at stake; and I have need of your friendship to fupport me in a difcovery which I tremble to Begin, but which, in justice to my honour, I am obliged to delay no longer.' At thefe words fhe knelt down, and taking hold of Polydore's hand-Be⚫ hold,' faid she, my dear husband, in that Dalincourt, whom you have fworn to love eternally; behold your wife Emilia, that Emilia whom you left a bride and a virgin at fixteen; whom you imagined dead, and who will not live a moment if you refuse to ac'knowledge and receive her! You cannot now complain that I am a wife impofed upon you: you chufe me freely out of pure inclination; our parents had nothing to do in it; love only engaged us; and from ♦ love alone I ́ defire to poffefs you. This is my claim; and if you are willing to allow it, I am bleffed to the height of all my wishes.' Polydore gazed on her with a filent admiration; he examined every feature over and over; then throwing his arms round her neck, and almost stifling her with kiffes Are you really Emilia?' cried he; and have I confirmed my former marriage by a new choice, by a choice which I never will depart from, and which makes me the happiest of 'men? O my angel, what wonders do you tell me! How is it poffible that I 'find you here at Bruffels, when I thought you in your grave? Explain all this to me; and let me know how much I wronged you formerly, that I may try to repair it all by my future conduct.' Count Aguilar and his lady joining with him in a defire to know her hiftory, the related it as follows. THE HISTORY OF POLYDORE AND EMILIA. you may remember, Polydore, that as foon as we were parted, I went to live in the country with my father, being afhamed to appear in publick af ter the affront your capricious averfion had put upon me. My pride was deeply wounded, but, with fhame I own it, my love was the paffion that fuffered moit. I was bred up to confider you as my husband; I had learned to love you from a child; and your perfon was fo wonderfully agreeable, that I could not look upon you with indifference. Nay, fuch was my partiality in your favour, that I could not help admiring you for your fpirit in afferting the freedom of your choice; and juftified you in my heart for a proceeding which openly I was obliged F to difapprove. In this wretched state of mind I remained fome years, till the unfortunate event of the civil war deprived my father of his eftate, and drove him out to feek refuge in a foreign country. We fettled at Paris, where, with three or four thousand pounds, which we found means to carry off, part in money, and the reft of it in jewels, we maintained ourselves well enough in a private way, which pleated my melancholy better than any other. In this etreat, where we faw no company, but two or three French women that lodged in the houfe with us, I amufed myself with learning the French tongue, which I had fome knowledge of before I came to France; and by fpeaking nothing elfe for three or four years, I became fo very perfe in it, that it was difficult to difcover by my accent that I was not born at Paris. I mention this, because it has fince been of ule to me, in making me pafs more eafily upon you for the French woman I perfonated. The third year of our residence at Paris, my father became acquainted with a widow-lady, the true Madame Dalincourt, whole name has fince made me full amends for many injuries I have to charge her with in the fequel of my story. This woman was a native of Brabant, but married a French gentleman, who dying young, left her in very narrow circumstances. She had a fifter much younger than herfelf, but not fo handfome, who had lived with her at Paris. My father was at that time near threefcore, and the widow turned of forty; yet her charms were ftill powerful enough to engage him in a paffion for her, which nothing but dotage could excufe. It went fo far, that the drew him in to marry her, and to settle upon her three thousand pounds, leaving me no more than the worth of my own jewels, which fcarce amounted to a thousand. But her avarice was not fatisfied with all this. There was a French nobleman who had long courted me for a mistress, and not finding me fo complying as he wifhed, thought the best way was to buy me of my mother-in-law, whom he knew to be capable of fuch a bargain. He offered her a prefent of two thoufand crowns to introduce him by night to my apartment. The wicked creature accepted of his bribe; and, taking her opportunity when my father was gone into the country, brought him late one night into my chamber, where the imagined he would find me fast asleep. But it happened that I and Mademoiselle du Frefne, the fifter of Dalincourt, had been engaged in reading a romance, which kept us up beyond our ufual hour; and as her room was on the other fide of the boufe, not to disturb the fa mily in paffing through, the went to bed to me. The romance ran fo ftrongly in my head, that I could not fleep for thinking of it; and, perceiving that the moon thone very brightly, I got up, flipped on a night gown, and went out to take a walk in a little garden that lay contigu. ous to my chamber. I had not been there above half an hour, before I heard Du Frefne call out for help; and, coming in to her affiftance, faw my lover ftruggling with her at fuch advantage, that I was almoft afraid I came too late. I joined my cries to her's, and the noise we made fo alarmed the marquis, that he thought it best to retire as foon as poffible; efpecially when he difcovered his mistake, and that my infamous mother-in-law had put him to bed to her own ugly fifter inftead of me. But, to be revenged of her for what he took to be a defign of imposing upon him, h revealed to us the part the had in this affair; and bid me tell her, that he did not think the enjoyment of Mademoiselle Du Frefne worth a quarter of the money he had given her. After making this confeffion, he went off; and was hardly got fafe out of the house, when two or three of our fervants came in to us, to know what was the matter. The story foon reached my father's ears; and I was fo angry at my ftep-mother for her intention against my honour, that in the heat of my paffion I told him all that the marquis had revealed; and Du Frefne confirmed it; which impru dence we had both reafon to repent of. My father was fo fhocked and afflicted at it, that it threw him into a fever which proved inortal. He was no fooner dead, but his loving widow turned her fifter and me out of doors, and it was with great difficulty that I carried off my money and neceffary apparel. In this diftrefs, which was the greatest I ever knew, Du Frefne proposed to me to go with her to Bruffels, where the had an old aunt whom the expected fomething from, and that would be willing to receive us. I gladly accepted her propofal, my spirit being too high to re turn to England in the condition I was reduced to. When we came to Bruffels, we found that her aunt was dead, but had left her the best part of what the had, which amounted to a reasonable fubfiftence. We agreed that I fhould board with her under the name of Mademoiselle Dalincourt, and pretend I was a relation of her former brother-inlaw; he not caring to fay any thing of the laft alliance, which had been attended with such ill confequences to us both. Upon this foot I lived with her very quietly, till the Count d' Aguilar found me out; and, by corrupting my mercenary friend, obtained more frequent accefs to me than I defired. You remember the diforder I was in when he brought you first to fee me: I knew you instantly; for my love had traced your image too ftrongly in my mind to be effaced by any length of time; whereas your indifference quickly made you lofe all memory of me, and the alteration of almost fifteen years had changed my perfon entirely from what it was when you faw me laft. I thought I fhould have died with the furprize; and was going, as foon as I could fpeak, to difcover myself to you; but perceiv ing that you did not remember me, I checked myself, and invented a pretence to cover my confufion. It struck me, that I might poffibly make some advantage of the difguife in which you faw me; at least, I was fure of the fatisfaction of converfing with you freely, and knowing what had happened to you fince our parting. When you came to me again as the confidant of the Count d'Aguilar, it was no fmall revenge and pleasure to me, to fee you ignorantly helping another man to debauch your own wife; and I could have found in my heart to have let you fucceed in your friendly mediation, as a punishment for the injuries you had done me: but my virtue foon rejected that temptation, and I thought of nothing but how to gain your esteem. When you brought me the base propofal of Count Aguilar, it appeared to me fuch a mark of your contempt, that I fully refolved not to fee you any more. But when you exprefled a repentance of that fault, and declared a respectful paffion for me, even to the offering me marriage, I yielded to the dictates of my love, and admitted you to all freedoms but one; that I told you your future conduct might obtain; and Í believe (faid the blushing) you will hardly now have the fame reluctance to accept it as you had formerly. But though I had thus engaged you by your promife, and still more by your inclination, my happiness was far from being fixed. While the name of Emilia was concealed, I could not tell how the knowledge of it might affect you. It was still in your power to make me miferable, by being angry with my innocent deceit; but fince you have been fo good to approve it, and acknowledge me for your wife, I fhall make it my whole study and ambition to deferve that title, and never think of my paft misfortunes, but to enhance my prefent happiness. Thus Emilia ended her narration; and received the compliments of Count Aguilar and his lady, who both expreffed the higheft joy at her good fortune. Polydore, on his fide, endeavoured to perfuade the countefs to follow the example of Emilia, and be reconciled to her husband. She answered him coldly, That he had too much experience of the temper of the count to trust to a sudden fit of fondness, which would wear itself out in a few months. That he was neither fo young, nor fo handfome now, as before their feparation; how then could the flatter herself, that he would like her better when she was really lefs amiable; that what she had done for him might fecure her his efteem, but she had received abundant proof that his esteem could but ill secure his love. 'I know,' faid the, the weakness of my heart: were I to live with him again, I fhould be jealous of him, even though he did not give me 'caufe; and that would certainly make us both unhappy. It is better for me to leave him to his pleafures, and endeavour to fecure my own tranquillity, by retiring from a world which I am unfit for.' Polydore finding it in vain to argue with her, and admiring the greatness of her mind, took his leave of the count, and returned to Bruffels, where his marriage with Emilia was confummated almost twenty years after it was contraded! LETTER I LETTER XXXII. SELIM, TO MIRZA AT ISPAHAN. Went yesterday with one of my acquaintance to fee a friend of his who has a houfe about twenty miles from London. He had formerly been a citizen and tradesman, but growing rich on a fudden by fome lucky hit in the more profitable trade of stock-jobbing, he as fuddenly fet up for a judge in architecture, painting, and all the arts which men of quality would be thought to underftand, and built this houfe as a fpecimen of his learning. When we came in, though it was in the midst of winter, we were carried into a room without a fire-place; and which looked, if poffible, ftill colder than it felt. I fuppofe, faid I, this ftone vault that we are in is defigned to be the burying place of the family: but I should be glad to fee the rooms in which they live, for the chilnels of these walls is infupportable to a Perfian constitution." I fee,' faid my companion, that you have no tafte, or elfe you could not be cold in a faloon lo beautiful as this.' Before I had time to make him any anfwer, the master of the houfe came in; but, inftead of carrying us to a fire, as I hoped he would, he walked us about all his valt apartments, then down into the offices under ground, and last into a garden, where a north-east wind, that blew very keen from off a beath to which it was laid open, finished what the faloon had begun, and gave me a cold, which took away my voice in the very inftant that I was going to complain of what he made me juffer. At length we ended our obfervations, and fat down to dinner in a room where, by good fortune, the rules of architecture allowed us to be warm: but when the meat was ferved, I was in great confufion not to know how to ask for any dith of all I faw before me; for it feems the gentleman ate in the French way, and nothing came up to his table in it's natural form: my uneafinefs was still greater when, upon tafting five or fix different compofitions, I found they were all mixed with the flesh of larded hogs, which I could not touch without pollution. After lofing my dinner in this man FROM LONDON. ner, I was entertained all the evening with a converfation between the gentleman of the house and another man, (who they told me was an architect) so stuffed with hard words and terms of art, that I could not understand one part in five of it. They talked much of certain men called virtuofi, whom, by the near relation their title bore to virtue, I took at first to be a fett of rigid moralifts: but, upon enquiry, I difcovered that they were a company of fiddlers, eunuchs, painters, builders, gardeners, and, above all, gentlemen that had travelled into Italy, who immediately came home perfect virtuofi, though they went out the dulleft fellows in the world. This order of men, which is pretty numerous, (as I could collect from the discourse of these two adepts) affume a fort of legislative authority over the body of their countrymen; they bid one man pull down his houfe, and build another, which he can neither pay for nor inhabit; they take a diflike to the furniture of a fecond, and command him to change it for a different one mɔre ex, penfive and lefs commodious; they order a third to go and languish at an opera, when he had rather be hallooing in a bear-garden: it is even feared they will take upon them to decide what fort of woman every man shall be in love with, and prefcribe a particular colour of eyes and hair for the only object of univerfal inclination. I defired to be informed whether this jurifdiction had been ancient in this kingdom, having met with no traces of it in hiftory. |