She waited not long, all things concurring to her desire; for
_Katteriena_ falling sick, she had the good luck, as she call’d it then,
to entertain _Henault_ at the _Grate_ oftentimes alone; the first moment
she did so, she entertain’d him with the good News, and told him, She
had at last vanquish’d her Heart in favour of him, and loving him above
all things, Honour, her Vow or Reputation, had resolv’d to abandon her
self wholly to him, to give her self up to love and serve him, and that
she had no other Consideration in the World; but _Henault_, instead of
returning her an Answer, all Joy and Satisfaction, held down his Eyes,
and Sighing, with a dejected Look, he cry’d, ‘Ah, Madam! Pity a Man so
wretched and undone, as not to be sensible of this Blessing as I ought.’
She grew pale at this Reply, and trembling, expected he would proceed:
‘’Tis not (continued he) that I want Love, tenderest Passion, and all
the desire Youth and Love can inspire; But, Oh, Madam! when I consider,
(for raving mad in Love as I am for your sake, I do consider) that if I
should take you from this Repose, Nobly Born and Educated, as you are;
and, for that Act, should find a rigid Father deprive me of all that
ought to support you, and afford your Birth, Beauty, and Merits, their
due, what would you say? How would you Reproach me?’ He sighing,
expected her Answer, when Blushes overspreading her Face, she reply’d,
in a Tone all haughty and angry, ‘Ah, _Henault_! Am I then refus’d,
after having abandon’d all things for you? Is it thus, you reward my
Sacrific’d Honour, Vows, and Virtue? Cannot you hazard the loss of
Fortune to possess _Isabella_, who loses all for you!’ Then bursting
into Tears, at her misfortune of Loving, she suffer’d him to say, ‘Oh,
Charming fair one! how industrious is your Cruelty, to find out new
Torments for an Heart, already press’d down with the Severities of Love?
Is it possible, you can make so unhappy a Construction of the tenderest
part of my Passion? And can you imagin it want of Love in me, to
consider, how I shall preserve and merit the vast Blessing Heaven has
given me? Is my Care a Crime? And would not the most deserving Beauty of
the World hate me, if I should, to preserve my Life, and satisfy the
Passion of my fond Heart, reduce her to the Extremities of Want and
Misery? And is there any thing, in what I have said, but what you ought
to take for the greatest Respect and tenderness!’ ‘Alas! (reply’d
_Isabella_ sighing) young as I am, all unskilful in Love I find, but
what I feel, that Discretion is no part of it; and Consideration,
inconsistent with the Nobler Passion, who will subsist of its own
Nature, and Love unmixed with any other Sentiment? And ’tis not pure, if
it be otherwise: I know, had I mix’d Discretion with mine, my Love must
have been less, I never thought of living, but my Love; and, if I
consider’d at all, it was, that Grandure and Magnificence were useless
Trifles to Lovers, wholly needless and troublesom.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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