admir’d Quality: Quality alone had the Power to attach her entirely; yet
not to one Man, but that Virtue was still admir’d by her in all:
Where-ever she found that, she lov’d, or at least acted the Lover with
such Art, that (deceiving well) she fail’d not to compleat her Conquest;
and yet she never durst trust her fickle Humour with Marriage. She knew
the Strength of her own Heart, and that it could not suffer itself to be
confin’d to one Man, and wisely avoided those Inquietudes, and that
Uneasiness of Life she was sure to find in that married State, which
would, against her Nature, oblige her to the Embraces of one, whose
Humour was, to love all the Young and the Gay. But Love, who had
hitherto only play’d with her Heart, and given it nought but pleasing
wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains, resolv’d,
either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon’d, and who had
sigh’d so long in vain, or to try what Power he had upon so fickle a
Heart, to send an Arrow dipp’d in the most tormenting Flames that rage
in Hearts most sensible. He struck it home and deep, with all the Malice
of an angry God.
There was a Church belonging to the _Cordeliers_, whither _Miranda_
often repair’d to her Devotion; and being there one Day, accompany’d
with a young Sister of the Order, after the Mass was ended, as ’tis the
Custom, some one of the Fathers goes about the Church with a Box for
Contribution, or Charity-Money: It happen’d that Day, that a young
Father, newly initiated, carried the Box about, which, in his Turn, he
brought to _Miranda_. She had no sooner cast her Eyes on this young
Friar, but her Face was overspread with Blushes of Surprize: She beheld
him stedfastly, and saw in his Face all the Charms of Youth, Wit, and
Beauty; he wanted no one Grace that could form him for Love, he appear’d
all that is adorable to the Fair Sex, nor could the mis-shapen Habit
hide from her the lovely Shape it endeavour’d to cover, nor those
delicate Hands that approach’d her too near with the Box. Besides the
Beauty of his Face and Shape, he had an Air altogether great, in spite
of his profess’d Poverty, it betray’d the Man of Quality; and that
Thought weigh’d greatly with _Miranda_. But Love, who did not design she
should now feel any sort of those easy Flames, with which she had
heretofore burnt, made her soon lay all those Considerations aside,
which us’d to invite her to love, and now lov’d she knew not why.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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