'Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray;Who can tread sure on the smooth, slipp'ry way?'
'Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray;Who can tread sure on the smooth, slipp'ry way?'
Miss Flora herself was also very far from being displeased at going on this errand; and as it was not proper for her to dress in the manner she would have done on making a visit to any other person, it cost her some time, before her setting out, to equip herself in such a deshabille as she thought would be most genteel and become her best.
She had the good fortune to find Mr. Goodman at home, and was immediately introduced to him. He was a little surprized at a visit made him by a young lady whom he had never seen before; but not enough to prevent him from receiving her with the utmost complaisance. He saluted her, seated her in a chair, and then asked her what commands she had to favour him with: on which, taking out the letter, and giving it to him, 'This, Sir,' said she, with a deep sigh, 'will inform you of the request that brings me here.'
Mr. Goodman read it hastily over; but, while he was doing so, could not forbear shaking his head several times; yet spoke nothing till after a pause of some minutes. 'Madam,' said he, 'as this is a business which I could not expect to have heard of, I must confess myself altogether unprepared how to proceed in it. If Lady Mellasin,' added he, 'will give herself the trouble to send in three or four days, she may depend on an answer from me.'
The coldness of these words, and the distant air he assumed while speaking them, so widely different from that with which he had accosted this lady on her first entrance, made her presently see she had nothing to hope from this embassy on her own account, and made her also tremble for that of her mother.
As he urged her not to stay, nor even gave the least hint that hewas desirous of her doing so, she rose, and, with a most dejected air, took her leave; telling him, in going out, that she should not fail of acquainting Lady Mellasin with his commands; who, she doubted not, would be punctual in obeying them.
Mr. Goodman was, indeed, too well acquainted with the character of Miss Flora to be capable of receiving any impression from the charms nature had bestowed upon her, even though they had been a thousand times more brilliant than in effect they were, and she had not been the daughter of a woman who had rendered herself so justly hateful to him.
Lady Mellasin was shocked to the very soul at being told the reception her daughter had met with; and could not help looking upon it as a very bad omen of her future success. She doubted but by his saying that he must have time for deliberation, he meant that he would do nothing in this point, without having first consulted his friends; and she had no reason to expect that any of those he conversed with would give counsel in her favour.
To be reduced from a state of opulence and respect to one of poverty, contempt, and wretchedness, is terrible indeed! but much more so when accompanied with a consciousness of having deserved, by our vices and ill conduct, all the misfortunes we complain of.
Lady Mellasin having no pleasing reflection of having done her duty in any one point of life, it would not have been strange if, thus destitute of comfort from within, all succour from without, she had yielded herself to the last despair.
She, nevertheless, amidst all the distraction of her thoughts, still continued to testify a resolution seldom to be found among women of her abandoned principles; never departing from this maxim, that, in the worst of events, nothing was to be neglected. On the third day she sent Mrs. Prinks to wait upon Mr. Goodman for his answer; having experienced the little effect her daughter's presence had produced.
It is a thing well worth the observation of all degrees of people, that the truly generous never keep long in suspense the persons they think proper objects of their bounty. A favour that costs too much pains in obtaining, loses great part of it's value—it palls upon the mind of the receiver, and looks more like being extorted than bestowed.
Mr. Cowley, though a man whose great merit, one would think, should have set him above the necessity of making any request of a pecuniary nature, was certainly obliged, sometimes, to solicitationsthat were very uneasy to him, and drew from him this emphatick exclamation—
'If there's a man, ye gods, I ought to hate,Attendance and dependance be his fate!'
'If there's a man, ye gods, I ought to hate,Attendance and dependance be his fate!'
It soon occurred to Mr. Goodman in what manner it would best become him to act towards this unhappy woman; and also what conditions ought to be stipulated on her part. He had been told, both by the lawyer and the two Mr. Thoughtlesses, that it was his late uncle's intention that she should not be left without a decent provision; and being willing to conform, as much as possible, to all the desires of a person whom he had always esteemed as a parent, he passed by the injury which, since his death, she had attempted to do to himself; and, within the time he had mentioned to Miss Flora, wrote an answer to the request in the following terms.
'To Lady Mellasin Goodman.Madam,Though you cannot but be sensible that your late base attempt to invalidate my dear uncle's will, excludes you from receiving any benefit from it; yet, as I am determined, as far as in my power, to make the example of that excellent man the rule of all my actions, I shall not carry my resentment, for the injustice you have done me, beyond what he expressed for those much greater injuries he sustained by your infidelity and ingratitude. It was not his intention you should starve; nor is it my desire you should do so.I am willing, Madam, to allow you a pension of one hundred pounds per annum, to be quarterly paid into whose hands soever you shall think fit to appoint for that purpose; but it must be on condition that you retire forthwith, and pass the whole remainder of your days in some remote part of the kingdom. The farther you remove from a town where your ill conduct has rendered you so obnoxious, the better.This, Madam, is what I insist upon; and is, indeed, no more than what your own safety demands from you. A very strict search is making after your accomplices; and if they, or any of them, shall happen to be found, it will be in vain for you to flatter yourself with escaping that punishment which the offended laws inflict on crimes of this nature: nor would it be in my power to shield you from that fate which even the meanest and most abject of those concerned withyou must suffer.As I should be extremely sorry to see this, I beg you, for your own sake, to be speedy in your resolution, which, as soon as you inform me, I shall act accordingly. I am, yours, &c.E. Goodman.'
'To Lady Mellasin Goodman.
Madam,
Though you cannot but be sensible that your late base attempt to invalidate my dear uncle's will, excludes you from receiving any benefit from it; yet, as I am determined, as far as in my power, to make the example of that excellent man the rule of all my actions, I shall not carry my resentment, for the injustice you have done me, beyond what he expressed for those much greater injuries he sustained by your infidelity and ingratitude. It was not his intention you should starve; nor is it my desire you should do so.
I am willing, Madam, to allow you a pension of one hundred pounds per annum, to be quarterly paid into whose hands soever you shall think fit to appoint for that purpose; but it must be on condition that you retire forthwith, and pass the whole remainder of your days in some remote part of the kingdom. The farther you remove from a town where your ill conduct has rendered you so obnoxious, the better.
This, Madam, is what I insist upon; and is, indeed, no more than what your own safety demands from you. A very strict search is making after your accomplices; and if they, or any of them, shall happen to be found, it will be in vain for you to flatter yourself with escaping that punishment which the offended laws inflict on crimes of this nature: nor would it be in my power to shield you from that fate which even the meanest and most abject of those concerned withyou must suffer.
As I should be extremely sorry to see this, I beg you, for your own sake, to be speedy in your resolution, which, as soon as you inform me, I shall act accordingly. I am, yours, &c.
E. Goodman.'
This he ordered to be delivered to any one who should say they came from Lady Mellasin; and Mrs. Prinks accordingly received it.
Lady Mellasin, in the miserable circumstances to which she had reduced herself, was transported to find she should not be entirely without support. As for her being obliged to quit London, she was not in the least shocked at it, as there was no possibility for her even to appear publickly in it; and she was rather desirous, than averse, to be out of a place which could no longer afford her those pleasures and amusements she had once so much indulged herself in the enjoyment of.
But when she considered on her banishment, and ran over in her mind what part of England she should make choice of for her asylum, the whole kingdom appeared a desert to her, when driven from the gaieties of the court and capital: she therefore resolved to go farther, and enter into a new scene of life, which might be more likely to obliterate the memory of the former. She had heard much talk of Jamaica—that it was a rich and opulent place—that the inhabitants thought of little else but how to divert themselves in the best manner the country afforded, and that they were not too strict in their notions either as to honour or religion—that reputation was a thing littler regarded among them: so that, in case the occasion that had brought her thither should happen to be discovered, she would not find herself in the less estimation.
She, therefore, hesitated not to write a second letter to Mr. Goodman, acquainting him with her desire to go to that plantation; and hinting to him that, if it would be giving him too great a trouble to remit the quarterly payments he mentioned, she should take it as a particular favour if he would be pleased to bestow on her such a sum as he should think proper, in lieu of the annuity he had offered.
Mr. Goodman was extremely pleased with this proposal; and several letters having passed between them concerning the conditions, he agreed to give her two hundred pounds in specie, to provide herself with sufficient necessaries for the voyage, and eight hundred more to be deposited in the hands of the captain of the ship, to bepaid on her arrival; with which she appeared very well satisfied, and gave him the most solemn assurances never to trouble him again.
But Miss Flora was all distraction at this event: the thoughts of leaving dear London were equally irksome to her with those of death itself. Fain would she have staid behind; but what could she do? Without reputation—without friends—without money—there was no remedy but to share her mother's fortune. Mrs. Prinks also, who, by living so long with Lady Mellasin, known to be in all her secrets, and agent in her iniquitous proceedings, could have no character to recommend her to any other service, continued with the only person she, indeed, was fit to live with; and they all embarked together on board a ship that was then ready to sail.
All Mr. Goodman's friends congratulated him on the service he had done his country, in ridding it of three persons who, by perverting the talents Heaven had bestowed upon them, to the most vile purpose, were capable of doing the greatest mischiefs to the more innocent and unwary. It was on this occasion that he made the invitation before-mentioned.
There were present at the entertainment made by Mr. Goodman, several other of his friends, besides Sir Ralph and Lady Trusty, the two Mr. Thoughtlesses, and Mrs. Munden. The husband of that lady had also received an invitation to be one of the guests; but he pretended a previous engagement would not permit him to accept the favour intended him.
He made his excuse, however, in terms so polite, and seemingly sincere, that none of the company, excepting those who were in the secret of the disagreement between him and his wife, had any apprehensions that his absence was occasioned by any other motive that what his message had expressed.
Sir Ralph Trusty and his lady, who were the only persons who had the least suspicion of the truth of this affair, could not help being a good deal concerned at it; but they forbore taking any notice, till the latter, perceiving Mrs. Munden had retired to a window at the farther end of the room, in order to give herself a little air, stept hastily towards her, and, in a low voice, accosted her in these terms.
'I see plainly, my dear,' said she, 'through the excuse your husband has made for not complying with Mr. Goodman's invitation; and am heartily sorry to find this fresh proof of the disunion between you. It is high time something should be attempted to put things on a better footing. I will desire Sir Ralph to send for Mr. Munden to-morrow, and we will try what can be done.'
'Your ladyship is extremely good,' replied the other; 'and I shall be always ready to submit to whatever you shall think proper for me: butI am determined to be entirely passive in this affair, and shall continue to live with Mr. Munden in the same manner I do at present, till a very great alteration in his behaviour shall oblige me to think I ought, in gratitude, to make some change in mine.'
Lady Trusty would not prolong the conversation, for fear of being observed; and they both rejoined the company. After this, there passed nothing of sufficient moment to acquaint the reader with; so that I shall only say, that, after a day, and great part of the ensuing night, spent in feasting, merriment and all that could exhilarate the spirits and excite good-humour, every one retired to their respective dwellings, highly satisfied with the manner in which they had been entertained by the younger merchant.
Lady Trusty was far from being forgetful of the promise she had made to her fair friend; and, after a serious consultation with Sir Ralph in what manner it was most proper to proceed, prevailed upon that gentleman, who was little less zealous than herself in doing good offices, to write the following billet to Mr. Munden.
'To George Munden, Esq.Sir,A business which, I am perfectly well assured, is of the utmost consequence both to your present and future happiness, obliges me to intreat the favour of seeing you this morning at my house; it not being so proper (for reasons I shall hereafter inform you of) for me to wait on you at yours.As I have no other interest in what I have to impart, than merely the pleasure I shall take in doing you a service, and discharging what I think the duty of every honest man, I flatter myself you will not fail of complying immediately with my request; and, at the same time, believe me to be, what I am, with the greatest sincerity, Sir, your well-wisher, and most humble and most obedient servant,Ralph Trusty.'
'To George Munden, Esq.
Sir,
A business which, I am perfectly well assured, is of the utmost consequence both to your present and future happiness, obliges me to intreat the favour of seeing you this morning at my house; it not being so proper (for reasons I shall hereafter inform you of) for me to wait on you at yours.
As I have no other interest in what I have to impart, than merely the pleasure I shall take in doing you a service, and discharging what I think the duty of every honest man, I flatter myself you will not fail of complying immediately with my request; and, at the same time, believe me to be, what I am, with the greatest sincerity, Sir, your well-wisher, and most humble and most obedient servant,
Ralph Trusty.'
This letter being sent pretty early in the morning, Mr. Munden was but just out of bed when he received it—a breakfast much less pleasing to him than his chocolate. He doubted not but his wife had made Lady Trusty acquainted with the whole secret of his family-affairs; and therefore easily guessed on what score he was sent for in this pressing manner by Sir Ralph; and, as it was highly disagreeable to him to enter into any discussions on that head, it was some timebefore he could resolve within himself what answer he should send.
But whatever deficiencies there might be in this gentleman, none, excepting those of his own family, to whom he did not think it worth his while to be complaisant, could ever accuse him of want of politeness—a character so dear to him, that, perhaps he would not have forfeited it, even for the attainment of any other of the more shining and valuable virtues of his sex.
Perplexing, therefore, as he knew this interview must necessarily be to him, he could not think of behaving in an uncourtly manner to a gentleman of Sir Ralph Trusty's rank and fortune; and having ordered that the servant who brought the letter should come up, desired him, in the most affable terms, to acquaint his master that nothing should deprive him of the honour of attending him the moment he was dressed.
Sir Ralph Trusty, in his younger years, had lived very much in London, had kept the best company in it; and though he was perfectly sincere in his nature, and had a thorough contempt for all those idle superfluous ceremonies, which some people look upon as the height of good-breeding, and value themselves so much upon, yet he knew how to put them in practice when ever he found they would facilitate any point he had to gain; and as Mr. Munden was altogether the courtier in his behaviour, he thought it best to address him in his own way, and receive him rather in a manner as if he was about to praise him for some laudable action he had done, than make any remonstrances to him on a conduct which he wanted to convince him required some amendment.
After having said a great many obliging things to him, in order to bring him into a humour proper for his purpose, the politick old baronet began in these terms to open the business on which he had desired to speak with him.
'I have not words to make you sensible,' continued he, 'how much your absence was regretted yesterday by all the company at Mr. Goodman's, especially by the two Mr. Thoughtlesses, who, indeed, on all occasions, express the highest esteem and regard for you, both as a friend and brother; but I was more particularly affected, when, on coming home, my wife acquainted me with what she imagined the real cause that deprived us of you.
'She told me,' added he, 'that having the other day surprized Mrs. Munden in tears and great confusion, she would not leave her until she wrested from her a secret, which I am equally ashamed and sorryto repeat; but which you can be at no loss to guess at.'
Though Mr. Munden had foreseen on what account he was sent for, and had prepared himself for it, yet he could to forbear testifying some confusion; but, recovering himself from it as soon as he could, 'Yes, Sir Ralph, I easily perceive,' answered he, 'that my wife has been making some complaints against me to your lady, which, doubtless, have laid me under her displeasure, as I know the accuser has the advantage of the accused, in the opinion of those to whom they appeal.'
'Not at all,' cried Sir Ralph hastily; 'I dare answer that my wife is no less concerned for your sake, than for that of Mrs. Munden, at the unfortunate disagreement that has happened between you.'
As he was speaking these words, Lady Trusty, either by design or accident, passed by the door of the room where they were sitting. 'Come in, my dear,' said Sir Ralph to her, 'and justify yourself from being swayed against right reason, by any partial affection to your fair friend.'
'If you mean in the case of Mrs. Munden, as I suppose you do,' replied she, 'I can acquit myself with very great ease from any imputation on that score; and am ready, even before her husband, to give it as my judgment, that, in all disputes between persons who are married to each other, especially when carried to any height, neither of them are wholly faultless; for, though one may be the first aggressor, the other seldom, if ever, behaves so as not to incur some part of the blame.'
'Your ladyship is all goodness,' said Mr. Munden, very respectfully; 'and, in what you have said, discover not only a penetration, but also a love of justice, which can never be too much admired and applauded. What your ladyship has observed between me and Mrs. Munden, is exactly the thing; it is certain, that both of us have been to blame; I have, perhaps, acted in a manner somewhat too abruptly towards her, and she in one too resentful, and too imperious, towards me; and though I am willing to allow my dear Betsy all the merit of those good qualities she is possessed of, yet I cannot help giving her some part of the character Mr. Congreve ascribes to Zara in his Mourning Bride, and saying—
"That she has passion, which outstrips the winds,And roots her reason up."
"That she has passion, which outstrips the winds,And roots her reason up."
Lady Trusty, who, for the sake of Mrs. Munden's reputation, wasso eager to patch up a reconciliation at any rate between her and her husband, would not seem to defend her behaviour as a wife, while she gently accused him of having too far exerted the authority of a husband.
In a word, both Sir Ralph and his lady managed in so artful a manner, still blending cajolings with remonstrances, that, when they came to enter into a discussion on this affair, Mr. Munden, whatever he thought in his heart, could not forbear seeming to yield to the justice of their reasonings.
He consented, though not without some scruples, and a much greater share of inward reluctance than his complaisance would permit him to make shew of, to add one guinea per week to his allowance for the expences of his table. As to the rest, he readily enough agreed to meet his wife half way towards a reconciliation; assured them, that he was far from requiring any other submission on her part, than what he would set her the example of in himself, and that he wished nothing more than to exchange forgiveness with her.
On this, Lady Trusty dispatched a servant directly to Mrs. Munden, to let her know she must needs speak with her immediately, which summons was no sooner delivered than complied with.
This prudent lady having cast about in her mind all that was proper to be done, in order to accomplish the good work she laboured for, and had so much at heart, would not leave it in the power of chance to disappoint what she had so happily begun; and having prevailed over the ill-nature and sourness of the husband, thought it equally necessary to prevent the resentment, or inadvertency, of the wife from frustrating her endeavours.
On being told that Mrs. Munden was come, she ran down stairs to receive her, led her into a parlour, and informed her, as briefly as she could, all that part which she thought would be most satisfactory to her, of the conversation which had passed between them and Mr. Munden on her score.
Finding what she said was received by the other more coolly than she wished, she took that privilege which her rank, her age, and the friendship she had always shewn to her, might justly claim, to remonstrate to her, that it did not become her situation and character to stand too much upon punctilios at this time; when all that either was, or ought to be, dear to womankind, depended on a speedy accommodation with her husband: 'The unhappy brulée,' said she, 'has lasted too long—your servants must certainly know it—youcannot be assured of their secrecy—the whole affair, perhaps, with large additions to it, will soon become the talk of the town—every one will be descanting upon it; and how much soever Mr. Munden may be in fault, you cannot hope to escape your share in the censure.'
Poor Mrs. Munden, who looked upon this lady as a second mother, would not attempt to offer any thing in opposition to the arguments she used; and, besides, could not forbear avowing, within herself, the justice of them. 'Well, Madam,' answered she, with a deep sigh, 'I shall endeavour to follow your ladyship's advice; and, since I am a wife, will do my best to make the yoke I have submitted to, sit as lightly upon me as possible.'
Lady Trusty perceiving her spirits were very much depressed, omitted nothing, that the shortness of time would allow, to persuade her to believe, that her condition was not so unhappy, in reality, as she at present imagined it to be; and having brought her to somewhat of a more chearful temper, conducted her into the room where Sir Ralph and Mr. Munden were still discoursing on the matter in question.
'Welcome, my fair charge,' cried the former, taking her by the hand, and drawing her towards Mr. Munden; 'I have once already had the honour of giving you to this gentleman—permit me to do so a second time; I hope with the same satisfaction, on both sides, as at first.'
'On mine, by Heaven, it is!' replied Mr. Munden, flying hastily to embrace her, as she moved slowly forward; 'if my dearest Betsy will promise to forget what is past, the pains I have suffered, during this interruption of my happiness, will be a sufficient security for her, that I shall be very careful for the future to avoid doing any thing that may again subject me to the like misfortune.'
These words, and the tender air which he assumed in speaking them, were so much beyond what Mrs. Munden could have expected from him, after his late treatment of her, that all her pride, her anger, and even her indifference, subsided at that instant, and gave place to sentiments of the most gentle nature.
'You must believe,' answered she, with an infinity of sweetness in her voice and eyes, 'that I have also had my share of anguish: but whatever inquietudes you have sustained on my account must be forgotten on your part, as it shall be mine to make atonement for them by every thing in my power, which can flatter me with the hopes of doing so.'
Insensible and morose as Mr. Munden was, he could not avoid, on this obliging behaviour in his fair wife, being touched in reality with some soft emotions, which he so well knew how to magnify the appearance of, that not only herself, but the bye-standers, imagined he was the most transported man alive.
Impossible it is to express how much Sir Ralph, and his good lady, rejoiced to see this happy event: they entertained them very elegantly at dinner, in the afternoon they went all together to take the air in Kensington Gardens; and a great deal of company coming in the evening to visit Lady Trusty, every thing contributed to keep up the spirit and good-humour of the newly re-united pair.
Though this reconciliation was not altogether sincere on the side of Mr. Munden, yet being made in the presence of Sir Ralph and Lady Trusty, it kept him from giving any flagrant remonstrations, at present, that it was not so; and he continued to live with his amiable wife in the most seeming good harmony for some time.
She, on her part, performed with the utmost exactitude all she had promised to him; and though she could not be said to feel for him all that warmth of affection which renders the discharge of our duty so great a pleasure to ourselves, yet her good-nature and good-sense well supplied that deficiency, and left him no room to accuse her of the least failure in what might be expected from the best of wives.
During this interval of tranquillity, she lost the society of two persons, the tenderness of whose friendship for her she had experienced in a thousand instances: Mr. Francis Thoughtless, who had stayed so long in town, merely through the indulgence of his commanding officer, was now obliged to repair to his regiment, then quartered at Leeds in Yorkshire; and Sir Ralph Trusty, having finished his affairs in town, his lady returned with him to their country-seat.
Thus was she almost at once deprived of the only two persons to whom she could impart her mind without reserve, or on whose advice she could depend in any exigence whatever; for, as to her elder brother, he was too eager in the pursuit of his pleasures, and too much absorbed in them, to be truly solicitous for any thing that didnot immediately relate to them; she saw him but seldom, and, when she did so, there was a certain distance in his behaviour towards her which would not permit her to talk to him with that freedom she could have wished to do.
She had not, however, any fresh motive to regret their departure on this account; Mr. Munden continued to behave to her in much the same manner as he had done since the breach had been made up between them: he was, indeed, very much abroad; but as she was far from being passionately fond of him, and only desired he would treat her with civility when with her, the little she enjoyed of his company was no manner of affliction to her.
She still retained some part of that gaiety, and love of a variety of conversation, which had always been a predominant propensity in her nature; and though in all her excursions, and the liberties she took, she carefully avoided every thing that might taint her virtue, or even cast a blemish on her reputation, yet were they such, as a husband who had loved with more ardency, would not, perhaps, have been very easy under: on his part, also, the late hours he came home at—the messages and letters which were daily brought to him by porters, might have given much disquiet to a wife, not defended from jealousy by so great a share of indifference: but in this they were perfectly agreed—neither offered to interfere with the amusements of the other, nor even pretended to enquire into the nature of them.
Though this was a mode of living together, which was far from being capable of producing that happiness for which the state of marriage was ordained, yet was it perfectly easy to persons who had so little real affection for each other; and, however blameable in the eyes of the truly discreet, escaped the censure of the generality of mankind, by it's being so frequently practised.
But I shall not expatiate on their present manner of behaviour to each other, since it was not of any long continuance, but proceed to the recital of a little adventure, which, though it may seem trifling to the reader in the repetition, will hereafter be found of some consequence.
It was a mighty custom with Lady Mellasin and Miss Flora, when they had nothing of more consequence to entertain them, to go among the shops, and amuse themselves with enquiring after new fashions, and looking over that variety of merchandize which is daily brought to this great mart of vanity and luxury.
Mrs. Munden, while in a virgin state, and a boarder at Mr.Goodman's, used frequently to accompany those ladies when bent on such sort of rambles; and she still was fond enough of satisfying her curiosity this way, at such times as she found nothing else to do, or was not in a humour to give or receive visits.
Happening one day to pass by the well-furnished shop of an eminent mercer, and seeing several silks lie spread upon the counter, she was tempted to step in, and examine them more nearly. A great number of others were also taken from the shelves, and laid before her; but she not seeming to approve any of them, the mercer told her he had some curious pieces out of the loom that morning of a quite new pattern, which he had sent his man with to a lady of quality, and expected he would be back in a few minutes, so intreated she would be pleased either to stay a little, or give him directions where she might be waited upon.
Mrs. Munden complied with the former of these requests; and the rather, because, while they were talking, she heard from a parlour, behind the shop, a harpsichord very finely touched, accompanied with a female voice which sung, in the most harmonious accents, part of this air, composed by the celebrated Signior Bononcini—
'M'insegna l'amor l'inganno,Mi togl'al cor, l'assanno,Mi da l'ardir amor,Mi da l'ardir amor.'
'M'insegna l'amor l'inganno,Mi togl'al cor, l'assanno,Mi da l'ardir amor,Mi da l'ardir amor.'
The attention Mrs. Munden gave to the musick, preventing her from speaking, the mercer said he was sorry she was obliged to wait so long: 'I rather ought to thank you, Sir, for detaining me, since I have an entertainment more elegant than I could have expected elsewhere.'
'The lady sings and plays well indeed, Madam,' said he: 'she is a customer of mine, and sometimes does my wife the favour of passing an hour with her.'
The lady still continued playing; and Mrs. Munden expressing a more than ordinary pleasure in hearing her, the complaisant mercer asked her to walk into the parlour; to which she replied, she would gladly accept his offer, provided it would be no intrusion: he assured her it would not be accounted so in the least; and with these words conducted her into the room.
A few words served to introduce her to his wife, who being a very genteel, pretty sort of woman, received her with great civility: but thefair musician was no sooner told the effects her accents had produced on Mrs. Munden, than, though she was a foreigner, and spoke very broken English, she returned the compliment made her by that lady on the occasion, in a manner so perfectly free, and withal so noble, as discovered her to have been bred among, and accustomed to converse with, persons in the highest stations in life.
Vain as Mrs. Munden was of her perfections, she was always ready to acknowledge and admire those she found in others of her sex. There was something in this lady, that attracted her in a peculiar manner; she took as much delight in hearing her talk, as she had done in hearing her sing; she longed to be of the number of her acquaintance, and made her several overtures that way; which the other either did not, or would not, seem to understand.
The mercer's man returning with the silks his master had mentioned, Mrs. Munden thought, after the obliging entertainment she had received, she could do no less than become a purchaser of something: accordingly she bought a piece of silk for a night-gown; though at the time she had not the least occasion for it, nor, on her coming into the shop, had any intention to increase her wardrobe.
Having now no longer a pretence to stay, she gave the mercer directions where to send home the silk, and then took her leave: but could not do it without telling the lady, that she should think herself extremely happy in having the opportunity of a much longer conversation with her.
On her speaking in this manner, the other appeared in very great confusion; but having, after a pretty long pause, a little recovered herself, 'It is an honour, Madam,' said she, 'I would be extremely ambitious of; and had certainly taken the liberty to request it of you, if there were not a cruel peculiarity in my fate, which deprives me of all hopes of that, and many other blessings, I could wish to enjoy.'
Mrs. Munden was so much surprized at these words, that she could only reply, she was sorry a lady, who appeared so deserving, should be denied any thing she thought worthy of desiring.
It might well, indeed, seem a little strange that a lady so young, beautiful, and accomplished, should have any motive to induce her to speak in the terms she had done. Mrs. Munden had a good deal of curiosity in her composition; she thought there was something extraordinarily mysterious in the circumstances of this stranger; and was very desirous of penetrating into the secret.
About an hour after she came home, the mercer's man brought thesilk: she enquired of him the name, condition, and place of abode, of the young lady she had seen at his master's; but received not the least information from him as to any of the questions she had put to him. He told her, that though she often bought things at their shop, yet his master always carried them home himself, and he was entirely ignorant of every thing relating to her.
This a little vexed her, because she doubted not but that, if she once found out her name, quality, and where she lived, her invention would supply her with the means of making a more particular discovery. She resolved, therefore, on going again to the shop, under the pretence of buying something, and asking the mercer himself, who she could not imagine would have any interest in concealing what she desired to know.
Some company coming in, prevented her from going that afternoon; but she went the next morning after breakfast. The mercer not happening to be at home, she was more than once tempted by her impatience to ask for his wife, and as often restrained by the reflection that such a thing might be looked upon as a piece of impertinence in a person so much a stranger: she therefore left the house without speaking to any body but the man she had seen the day before.
Her curiosity, however, would not, perhaps, have suffered her to stop here, if something of more moment had not fallen out to engage her attention, and put the other out of her head for the present.
The nobleman on whom Mr. Munden depended for the gift so often mentioned in this history, had been a long time out of town, and was but lately returned. He had heard in the country that Mr. Munden was married, and that his wife was very beautiful and accomplished.
On Mr. Munden's going to pay his compliments to him on his arrival, 'I congratulate you,' said he; 'I am told you are married, and have got one of the prettiest and most amiable women in London for a wife.'
'As to beauty, my lord,' replied he, 'there is no certain standard for it; and I am entirely of the poet's mind, that—
"'Tis in no face, but in the lover's eye."
"'Tis in no face, but in the lover's eye."
'But whatever she is,' continued he, 'I am afraid she would be too vain if she knew the honour your lordship does her, in making this favourable mention of her.'
'Not at all,' rejoined the peer; 'but I shall not take her character from common fame—you must give me leave to be a judge of the perfections I have heard so much talk of: besides,' pursued he, 'I have a mind to see what sort of a house you keep; I think I will come some day, and take a dinner with you.'
It is not to be doubted but that Mr. Munden omitted nothing that might assure his lordship, that it was an honour which he was extremely ambitious of, and should be equally proud of receiving, though he durst not have presumed to have asked it.
The very next day being appointed for this grand visit, he went home to his wife, transported with the gracious behaviour of his patron towards him. He threw a large parcel of guineas into her lap; and charged her to spare nothing that might entertain their noble guest in a manner befitting his high rank, and the favours he expected one day to receive from him.
Mr. Munden could not have given any commands that would be more pleasing to his fair wife: feasting and grand company were her delight. She set about making the necessary preparations with the greatest alacrity imaginable; and it must be acknowledged that, considering the shortness of the time, she had sufficient to have employed the most able and experienced housewife.
It might be justly reckoned a piece of impertinence to take up the reader's time with a repetition of the bill of fare of the entertainment made on the above occasion; it will be sufficient to say that every thing was extremely elegant; that it was composed of the best chosen dishes, which were all served up in the greatest order; and that there was as great a variety of them as consisted with the table of a private gentleman, without incurring the censure of profuseness.
Such as it was, however, the noble lord seemed highly delighted with it; he praised every thing that came before him, almost to a degree of flattery; and took all opportunities of being yet more lavish in his encomiums on the beauty, wit, and elegance of the fair provider.
Mr. Munden was transported within himself at the satisfaction his patron expressed; and his wife also felt a secret joy on hearing the fine things said of her, which sparkled in her eyes, and gave an additional lustre to all her charms.
This nobleman, though past what is called the prime of life, was far from having arrived at those years which bring on decay; he was, besides, of a sanguine, vigorous complexion—had a very graceful person—a fine address—a great affluence of wit—and something so soft and engaging in his manner of behaviour to the ladies, as rendered him still a prodigious favourite with them.
He was too good a judge of what is amiable in womankind, not to discover immediately the many perfections Mrs. Munden was mistress of: he felt the whole force of her charms; and as he lovedbeauty more for his own sake than for that of the possessor, and never liked without desiring to enjoy, his eyes told her, at every glance, that he languished for an opportunity of declaring in a different manner the sentiments he had for her.
Mrs. Munden perfectly understood the language in which she found herself addressed: but, had she been less learned in it, an explanation soon presented itself.
Her husband, stepping to the head of the stair-case to give some orders to a servant, the peer took hold of one of her hands, and kissing it with the utmost raptures, 'Divine creature,' cried he, 'how unjust is fortune! that a face and person so formed for universal admiration, is not placed in a higher and more conspicuous sphere of life!'
She had not time to make any reply—Mr. Munden returned that moment—nor had the noble lord the least opportunity, while he staid, of speaking one word to her that was improper for a husband to be witness of.
He prolonged the time of his departure to a greater length than could have been expected from a person whose high office in the state permitted him much fewer hours of leisure than those in middling stations of life are happy enough to enjoy: when he went away, he assured both the husband and the wife that he quitted them with the utmost reluctance, and that he had never passed a day more agreeably in his whole life.
Mr. Munden was now in such high good-humour, that he no sooner found himself alone with his fair wife, than he took her in his arms, and kissed her very heartily—a favour not common with him since the first week of their marriage. He told her, moreover, she had behaved like an angel—that nothing could be more elegant than the dinner she had prepared—and that he could not have expected such a variety of covers, and so fine a dessert, for the money he gave her for that purpose.
'I think myself very happy,' answered she, 'that you approve so well of my management: but I fancy,' continued she with a smile, 'you will have some better opinion of my œconomy when I tell you that it cost less than you imagine.'
'Is it possible!' cried he, in a pleasing surprize: 'I rather thought you had been kind enough to have added somewhat out of your own pocket, to render the entertainment so perfectly compleat.'
'No, I assure you,' resumed she; 'there remains no less than thesethree guineas of the sum you allowed me for this day's expence.' With these words, she laid the pieces she had mentioned on the table, which he was so ungenerous as to take immediately up and put it into his own pocket.
'Nay, Mr. Munden,' said she, while he was putting up the money, 'this is not dealing altogether so fairly by me as I have done by you: I expected that the trouble I have been at, deserved, at least, to be rewarded with what I have saved by my frugality.'
'Take care, my dear,' said he, laughing, 'how you lessen the merit of what you have done; I am willing to take it as an obligation to me; and, sure, you value an obligation to me at a much higher rate than three pieces.'
Though all this passed on both sides in a jocose way, yet, as it served to shew the niggardliness of Mr. Munden's temper, cannot be supposed to have increased either the love or respect his wife had for him.
She made, however, no other answer to what he had last said, than to tell him she found he was fashionable enough to suffer virtue to be it's own reward; and then turned the conversation, and continued in the same chearful humour as before any mention had been made of the three guineas. Mr. Munden did not go abroad the whole evening: but whether he chose to sup at home for the pleasure of enjoying his wife's company, or for the sake of partaking of the remainder of those dainties which had been so highly praised at dinner, is a point which, perhaps, might admit of some dispute.
It is certain, indeed, the yet unsubdued vanity of this young lady made her feel so much innate satisfaction in the admiration their noble visitor had expressed of her person and accomplishments, as gave a double sprightliness to her conversation that whole evening; and might, perhaps, render her more than ordinarily lovely in the eyes of her husband.
It is very far from being an improbability that some people may be apt to imagine she built a little too much on the veracity of the praises bestowed upon her by that nobleman: but those who think this way, will be convinced of their error when they shall presently find how far her conjectures were justified in this point.
She was sitting the next morning in a careless posture at one of the windows that looked into the street, ruminating sometimes on one thing, and sometimes on another, when she could not help observing a fellow on the other side of the way, who kept walkingbackwards and forwards, before the house, which, though he frequently passed thirty or forty paces, yet he took care never to lose sight of.
This seemed a little odd to her, as she sat there a considerable time, and the man still continued on his post: she doubted not but that he wanted to speak with some one or other of her family, but had not the least notion his business was with herself.
Being told breakfast waited for her, she went into her dressing-room, where she usually took it, and thought no farther of the man till Mr. Munden was dressed and gone out; but in less than a minute after he was so, she received intelligence from her footman, that there was a person had a letter for her, and said he would deliver it into no hands but her own.
On this she ran immediately down stairs; and found, to her great surprize, that he was no other than the fellow that she had seen loitering so long about the house. 'I am ordered, Madam,' said he, 'to give you this;' and at the same time presented her with a letter. 'From whom does it come?' demanded she. 'I am ignorant,' answered he, 'both of the person who sent it, and the business it contains: my orders were only to deliver it into your own hands;' and with these words went away with all the speed he could.
It must be confessed, a married woman ought not to have received a letter brought her in this manner, and without knowing whence it came: but curiosity prevailed above discretion; and she, hastily opening it, found it contained these lines.
'To Mrs. Munden.Loveliest of your sex,As not to adore you would be the greatest proof of insensibility, so not to wish, and even attempt every thing consistent with the character of a man of honour, for the obtaining some reward for that adoration, would be the most stupid piece of self-denial, becoming only of a stoick, or one more dead to all the joys of life. The force of your charms has made the conquest of a heart which only waits a favourable opportunity of throwing itself at your feet, not altogether without hope, in spite of the circumstances you are in, of being, in some measure, acceptable to you; at least it shall be so, if the most ardent and perfect passion that ever was, joined with the power of rendering you all manner of services, can give it merit in your eyes.A very short time, I flatter myself, will explain to you what atpresent may seem a mystery: benignant Love will furnish the most faithful of his votaries with the means of declaring himself at full; and the flame with which he is inspired, instruct him also to give you such testimonies of his everlasting attachment, as the good understanding you are mistress of you will not permit you to reject; till when, I only beseech you to think, with some share of tenderness, on your concealed adorer.'
'To Mrs. Munden.
Loveliest of your sex,
As not to adore you would be the greatest proof of insensibility, so not to wish, and even attempt every thing consistent with the character of a man of honour, for the obtaining some reward for that adoration, would be the most stupid piece of self-denial, becoming only of a stoick, or one more dead to all the joys of life. The force of your charms has made the conquest of a heart which only waits a favourable opportunity of throwing itself at your feet, not altogether without hope, in spite of the circumstances you are in, of being, in some measure, acceptable to you; at least it shall be so, if the most ardent and perfect passion that ever was, joined with the power of rendering you all manner of services, can give it merit in your eyes.
A very short time, I flatter myself, will explain to you what atpresent may seem a mystery: benignant Love will furnish the most faithful of his votaries with the means of declaring himself at full; and the flame with which he is inspired, instruct him also to give you such testimonies of his everlasting attachment, as the good understanding you are mistress of you will not permit you to reject; till when, I only beseech you to think, with some share of tenderness, on your concealed adorer.'
Utterly impossible is it to describe the situation of Mrs. Munden's mind, after having several times read over this epistle, and well examined the purport of it: she doubted not, one moment, but that it was dictated by the noble lord she had seen the day before, and whose behaviour to her had, in some degree, corresponded with the sentiments contained in it. If her vanity was delighted with the conquest she had made, her pride was shocked at that assurance which the daring lover seemed to flatter himself with of gaining her; and her virtue much more alarmed at the attempts which his rank and fortune might embolden him to make for that end.
At first she was resolved to shew the letter to her husband the moment he came home, and acquaint him with her sentiments on the matter, that he might take proper precautions to prevent her from being exposed to any future attacks from this dangerous nobleman.
But, on more mature deliberation, her mind changed: Mr. Munden was, at present, in tolerable good humour with her—she was willing, if possible, to preserve it in him; and, as she could not but think an information of this kind would give him a great deal of uneasiness, so she had also reason to apprehend the effects of it might, in some measure, innocent as she was, fall upon herself.
He had never yet discovered the least emotions of jealousy; and she knew not what suspicions her having received such a letter from one person might raise in him in relation to others. 'He may, possibly,' said she to herself, 'look upon every man that visits me as an invader of his right; and, consequently, I shall be debarred from all conversation with the sex.
'Besides,' continued she, 'I am not certain that this letter was sent me by the noble lord, or that he has in reality entertained any designs to the prejudice of my virtue; there is, indeed, a strong probability of it, even by his behaviour towards me yesterday: yet it may not be so; appearances often deceive us; and I might take that for the effect of love which proceeded only from complaisance; but, whatever hisintentions are, it would certainly be the extremest folly and madness in me to inflame Mr. Munden against a person on whom his interest so much depends.
'It is no matter, therefore,' went she still on, 'whether it be the noble lord in question, or any other person who presumes to think so meanly of me as to address me in this audacious manner; it is, doubtless, in my power to keep out of the way of receiving any farther insults from him; and I am sufficiently capable myself of being guardian of my own honour, without disturbing a husband's peace about it.'
Thus ended the debate she had with herself on this occasion: she committed her letter to the flames; and resolved, that if ever the author was hardy enough to discover himself, to treat him with all the contempt due to him from affronted virtue.
Some of my readers will, doubtless, think Mrs. Munden entirely justified in making a secret of the above-mentioned letter to her husband, as she did so in regard to his peace; but others, again, who maintain that there ought to be no reserve between persons so closely united, will condemn her for it: I shall forbear to give my vote upon the matter; and only say, that if she had not acted with less prudence soon after, she might saved herself a very great shock, and her husband much vexation.
It was no more than three days after the great man had dined there, that Mr. Munden received a billet from him, which contained as follows.
'To George Munden, Esq.Dear Munden,I have so few days that I can call my own, that I am willing to make those few as happy as I can; and on that motive desire yours and your amiable wife's company to dinner with me to-morrow: I leave you to make both my request and compliments acceptable to her; and am, with all sincerity, dear Munden, yours, &c. &c.——P.S. I shall have a female relation with me, who will rejoice in an opportunity of becoming acquainted with Mrs. Munden.'
'To George Munden, Esq.
Dear Munden,
I have so few days that I can call my own, that I am willing to make those few as happy as I can; and on that motive desire yours and your amiable wife's company to dinner with me to-morrow: I leave you to make both my request and compliments acceptable to her; and am, with all sincerity, dear Munden, yours, &c. &c.
——
P.S. I shall have a female relation with me, who will rejoice in an opportunity of becoming acquainted with Mrs. Munden.'
Mr. Munden desired the servant who brought this, to give his own and wife's most humble duty to his lord, and assure his lordship theywould not fail to attend his commands.
Some friends being with him when this invitation was brought, hindered him from saying any thing of it at that time to his wife; but they were no sooner gone, than, with an air and voice elated even to an excess, he told her of the high favour conferred upon them by his right honourable patron.
Mrs. Munden was now more than ever convinced of the base designs Lord —— had upon her, and that the letter she had received was sent by him: she therefore immediately determined within herself to let him see, by her not complying with this invitation, that she was neither ignorant what his intentions were, nor would do any thing that might give him the least encouragement to prosecute them.
But as she still judged it was wholly improper to acquaint Mr. Munden with any thing of the affair, she could form no other contrivance to avoid accompanying him in this visit, than by pretending herself seized with a sudden indisposition; which she resolved to do some few hours before the arrival of that wherein they should set out.
If she had persisted in this mind, it would have been highly laudable indeed: but, alas! the next morning inspired her with very different sentiments; vanity, that sly subverter of our best resolutions, suggested to her that there was no necessity for her behaving in the manner she had designed.
'What should I fear?' said she to herself; 'what danger threatens either my virtue or my reputation? A wife may certainly go any where with her husband: besides, a lady will be there, a relation of his lordship's; he can communicate nothing to me in their presence that I should blush to hear; and it would be rather ridiculous prudery, than discretion in me, to deny myself the satisfaction of such good company.'
It must be acknowledged, (for it but too plainly appears from every circumstances of this lady's conduct, both before and after marriage) that the unhappy propensity in her nature for attracting universal admiration, rendered her little regardful either of the guilt or the disquiets to which her beauty was accessary: if she was admired and loved, she cared not to what end; in short, it made her, perfectly uncorrupted and pure as her own inclinations were, rather triumph in, than regret, the power she had of inspiring the most inordinate and vicious ones in others.
Thus, more delighted than alarmed, she equipped herself with allthe arts and laboured industry of female pride, for securing the conquest she had gained: safe as she imagined herself from all the encroachments of presumptuous love, she pleased herself with the thoughts of being looked upon by the adoring peer as Adam did upon the forbidden fruit—longing, wishing, but not daring to approach.
She had but just finished her embellishments, and was looking in the great glass to see if all was right, when Mr. Munden sent up stairs to know if she was ready, and to tell her his noble patron had sent his own chariot to fetch them: on hearing this she immediately tripped down stairs, singing, as she went, this part of an old song—