with such an one, as should (tho’ he perish’d with it) be conformable to her Commands; and as he spoke, the Tears stream’d down his dying Eyes, that beheld her with all the tender Regard that ever Lover was capable of; she recover’d a little, and turn’d her too beautiful Face to him, and pierc’d him with a Look, that darted a thousand Joys and Flames into his Heart, with Eyes, that told him her Heart was burning and dying for him; for which Assurances, he made Ten thousand Asseverations of his never-dying Passion, and expressing as many Raptures and Excesses of Joy, to find her Eyes and Looks confess, he was not odious to her, and that the knowledge he was her Lover, did not make her hate him: In fine, he spoke so many things all soft and moving, and so well convinc’d her of his Passion, that she at last was compell’d by a mighty force, absolutely irresistible, to speak. ‘Sir, (said she) perhaps you will wonder, where I, a Maid, brought up in the simplicity of Virtue, should learn the Confidence, not only to hear of Love from you, but to confess I am sensible of the most violent of its Pain my self; and I wonder, and am amazed at my own Daring, that I should have the Courage, rather to speak, than dye, and bury it in silence; but such is my Fate. Hurried by an unknown Force, which I have endeavoured always, in vain, to resist, I am compell’d to tell you, I love you, and have done so from the first moment I saw you; and you are the only Man born to give me Life or Death, to make me Happy or Blest; perhaps, had I not been confin’d, and, as it were, utterly forbid by my Vow, as well as my Modesty, to tell you this, I should not have been so miserable to have fallen thus low, as to have confess’d my Shame; but our Opportunities of Speaking are so few, and Letters so impossible to be sent without discovery, that perhaps this is the only time I shall ever have to speak with you alone.’ And, at that word the Tears flow’d abundantly from her Eyes, and gave _Henault_ leave to speak. ‘Ah Madam! (said he) do not, as soon as you have rais’d me to the greatest Happiness in the World, throw me with one word beneath your Scorn, much easier ’tis to dye, and know I am lov’d, than never, never, hope to hear that blessed sound again from that beautiful Mouth: Ah, Madam! rather let me make use of this one opportunity our happy Luck has given us, and contrive how we may for ever see, and speak, to each other; let us assure one another, there are a thousand ways to escape a place so rigid, as denies us that Happiness; and denies the fairest Maid in the World, the privilege of her Creation, and the end to which she was form’d so Angelical.’ And seeing _Isabella_ was going to speak, lest she should say something, that might dissuade from an Attempt so dangerous and wicked, he persu’d to tell her, it might be indeed the last moment Heaven would give ’em, and besought her to answer him what he implor’d, whether she would fly with him from the _Monastery_? At