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 Hell shall snatch you from me_, drawing his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pass 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.