THE NEW DISORDERS OF LOVE. A Gallant Novel.  
Written by RICHARD GIBBS, of Norwich, Philo. Medici.  
LONDON: Printed for R. Bentley and S. Magnes, in Russel-street, in Covent-Garden. 1687.   

To his Honoured Friend, RICHARD BERNEY, of Grays-Inn, Esq; Eldest Son to Sir THOMAS BERNEY, Knight and Baronet, of Norfolk.  
SIR,  
NEver till I had the Honour of your Conversation, was I sensible how uneasy Ambition sits upon Mankind. This has made me labour long under the Pride of presenting something to your Patronage; and designed it upon a Graver Subject than what now implores your Protection. But considering the Politeness of your Learning, and that there is nothing in the whole Circle of Sciences, that has escaped the justness and severity of your Censure, I durst not stand the Test of so nice and universal a Critic, in offering any Philosophical Essay to your View. This made me change the Design of putting off some of my imperfect Tracts under the Glory and general Approbation of your Name, in the Commonwealth of Learning, into that of Contributing to your Diversion. A Relaxation of the Mind from more serious Studies, is often necessary to the largest and most vigorous Genius's; and I am sure by furnishing to your Recreation, I gratify all that know you. Besides, Sir, I fancy the fair Sex will justify me in this Address: and there is possibly a World of Ladies of a Noble Gentleman's Acquaintance, whose Hearts, if we consulted, would tell us, with how much Justice the Disorders of Love lay Claim to his Protection. And here, Sir, an infinity of Matter presents its self for Panegyric. And might I expatiate, I could run through a long History of the Glories of your Family; but that the World would tell me, that as the best of Families might pride themselves in your Ancestors, yet your own Virtues are so transcendent, that the most illustrious of your Ancestors, can pride themselves in nothing more than you. And indeed, when the whole Nation was almost tainted, your Loyalty was Ermine-like. And thus you credited Arms, and Letters, and Good Mien. A Plain Dealer, Sir, would tax me here, I am sure, with being wanting in your just Eulogies; but I am sure I shall never be wanting in the Zeal, Respect, and Passion, wherewith I am,  
Sir, Your most Obedient, And most Humble Servant, RICH. GIBBS.   


A Catalogue of some Novels and Plays Printed for R. Bentley and S. Magnes.  

NOVELS.  
1 ZElinda, a famed Romance.  
2 Happy Slave, in three Parts.  
3 Count Brion.  
4 Count Gabales.  
5 Hatige, or, the Amours of the King of Tamaran.  
6 Madam Lavalier, and the King of France.  
7 Madam and the Duke of Guise.  
8 Mad. Colonna's Memoirs.  
9 Queen of Majorca, in two Parts.  
10 Don Sebastian, King of Portugal.  
11 Heroine Musketeer.  
12 Princess of Cleves.  
13 Obliging Mistress.  
14 Fatal Prudence.  
15 Princess of Fez.  
16 Disorders of Love.  
17 Triumph of Love.  
18 Victorious Lovers.  
19 Almanzor and Almanzaida.  
20 Earl of Essex and Qu. Elizabeth.  
21 Neopolitan, or the Defender of his Mistress.  
22 Nicostratis.  
23 Amorous Abbess.  
24 Homais, Queen of Tunis.  
25 Pilgrim, in two parts.  
26 Meroveus, Prince of the Blood-Royal of France.  
27 Life of the Duke of Guise.  
28 Extravagant Poet.  
29 Memoires Gallant.  
30 Instructions for a young Nobleman.  
31 Love-Letters from the Cavalier to the Nun.  
32 Gallant Ladies; or the Mutual Conference: In two parts.  
33 St. Lewis; or, the Politic Conduct of Queen Blanch.   

PLAYS.  
1 Tartuff, or the French Puritan.  
2 Forced Marriage, or the Jealous Bridegroom.  
3 English Monsieur.  
4 All mistaken, or the Mad Couple.  
5 Generous Enemies, or the Ridiculous Lovers.  
6 The Plain-Dealer.  
7 Sertorius, a Tragedy.  
8 Nero, a Tragedy.  
9 Sophonisba, or Hannibal's Overthrow.  
10 Gloriana, or the Court of Augustus Caesar.  
11 Alexander the Great.  
12 Mythridates, King of Pontus.  
13 Oedipus, King of Thebes.  
14 Caesar Borgia.  
15 Theodosius, or the Force of Love.  
16 Madam Fickle, or the Witty False One.  
17 The Fond Husband, or the Plotting-Sisters.  
18 Esquire Old-Sap, or the Night-Adventures.  
19 Fool turned Critic.  
20 Virtuous Wife, or Good Luck at Last.  
21 The Fatal Wager.  
22 Andromache.  
23 Country Wit.  
24 Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph.  
25 Destruction of Jerusalem, in two parts.  
26 Ambitious Satesman, or the Loyal Favourite.  
27 Misery of Civil War.  
28 The Murder of the Duke of Gloucester.  
29 Thyestes, a Tragedy.  
30 Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, a Tragedy.  
31 The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marririage.  
32 The Soldiers Fortune.  
33 Tamerlain the Great.  
34 Mr. Limberham, or the Kind Keeper.  
35 Mistaken Husband.  
36 Notes of Morocco, by the Wits.  
37 Essex and Elizabeth, or the Unhappy Favourite.  
38 Virtue Betrayed, or Anna Bullien.  
39 King Leer.  
40 Abdellazor, or the Moor's Revenge.  
41 Town-Fop, or Sir Tim. Tawdery.  
42 Rare en tovi, a French Comedy.  
43 Moor of Venice.  
44 Country Wife.  
45 City Politics.  
46 Duke of Guise.  
47 Rehearsal.  
48 King, and no King.  
49 Philaster, or Love lies a Bleeding.  
50 Maid's Tragedy.  
51 Grateful Servant.  
52 Strange Discovery.  
53 Atheist, or the Second Part of the Soldiers Fortune.  
54 Wit without Money.  
55 Little Thief.  
56 Valiant Scot  
57 Constantine.  
58 Valentinian.  
59 Amorous Prince.  
60 Dutch Lovers.  
61 Woman Bully.  
62 Reformation.  
63 Hero and Leander.  
64 Love Tricks.  
65 Julius Caesar.  
66 Fatal Jealousy.  
67 Mounsieur Ragou.  
68 Island Queen, or Mary Queen of Scotland.  
69 Empress of Morocco.  
70 Commonwealth of Women.  
71 The Noble Stranger.  
72 Duke of Milan.  
73 The Knave in Grain.  
74 Amends for Ladies.  
75 Manamochy.  
76 The Emperor of the East.  
77 The Wedding.  
78 St. Patrick for Ireland.  
79 Albumazor.  
80 The Tragedy of Albertus.    

Some Books Printed and Sold by R. Bentley and S. Magnes, in Russel-Street in Covent-Garden.  

BEaumont and Fletcher's Plays: in all, 51. in large Fol.  
Mr. Shakespear's Plays: in one large Fol. Volume. Containing 43. Plays.  
Bishop Brownrig's Sermons in Fol.  
Dr. Comber's Companion to the Temple and Altar: In Fol.  
Dr. Alistry's 40. Sermons: In Fol.  
Towerson on the Creed: in Fol.  
Hudebras Complete: In 8vo.  
Present State of England: In 2 Vol. in 12ves.  
Enter into the Closet: in 12ves.  
Mr. Evelin's Calendarium Hortens. in 8vo.  
Rules of Civility: In 12ves.  
Mauger's French-Grammar: the Twelfth Edition: In 8vo.  
French Common-Prayer: In 12.  
French Psalms: in 12.  
French Testament and Psal. in 12.  
Moral Essays, in 4 Vol in 12.  
Plato's Apology of Socrates: in 8vo.  
Natural Hist. of the Passions: in 8vo.  
Dr. Whitby of Idolatry: in 8vo.  
Dr. Whitby of Host-worship: in 8vo.  
Dr. Whitby's Answer to Dr. Cressey: in 8vo.  
Prospect of Humane Misery: in 12.  
Cornelius Agrippa's Vanity of Arts and Sciences: 8vo.  
Bp. Andrew's Devotions: in 12.  
— His Manual for the sick: in 12.  
Persuasives to the Communion. By the Author of Enter into thy Closet: in 12ves.     

THE NEW DISORDERS OF LOVE. A Gallant Novel.  
TWO Persons of Quality in Picardy, being at variance about some Lands, plunged themselves over head and ears in Law; and for a long while persecuted one another. They were near Relations, and of the same Family; both bearing the same Name, and the same Arms. Their Dispute was about the sharing of an Estate, and of such great Consequence, as tended to one or the other's ruin. As they were eminent in their Province, their mutual friends made it their business to procure a Reconciliation, and for that purpose proposed a Match. They had no more Children than one Son and one Daughter; and these friends having made them understand, that the means of removing all their differences, was to marry them together, they accordingly resolved so to do. The Son was not unhandsome, but whymsical in his humour: and as the advantages of the mind are to be preferred to those of the body, he was not in the best Repute imaginable in his Neighbourhood. The Daughter was agreeable, and promised much. She was yet so green in years, as not to know the meaning of an Husband. Thus when they talked of marrying her, she seemed indifferent; but when she knew it to be to her Cousin, she was extremely afflicted. She told a woman that had had care of her Education, that better would it have been for her, that her Father had been cast in his Lawsuit. The woman made her answer, that she wondered to hear her talk in that manner, and that there was nothing to be found fault with in the Person that was proposed to her. As a Dispensation was necessary in this case, they sent to the Court of Rome; and while the Messenger was on his journey, the Marquis de Florange, so was her Suiter's Name, made love to her. He had lived almost altogether in his Country; insomuch that his Deportment could not wipe out the disadvantageous Impression she had entertained of him. On the contrary, the more she saw him, the less she esteemed him; in him finding many bad, and few good Qualities.  
From that time she did nought but weep, foreseeing all the misfortunes wherewith she was threatened. At last, the Dispensation being come, she could not decline marrying him: but he enamoured her never the more after he was her Husband, than he had done when he was her Gallant.  
In a little while after the Wedding, a great Estate fell to Florange: and this enabled him to spend at an high rate. His Wife studying to distance him, told him then, that we lived now in a Reign wherein Martial Men were only valued, and that though the bare thoughts of his absence troubled her extremely, yet could she not but advise him to take upon him some Military Employ: That their Lands lying in the passage of the Forces, the means to preserve them, was to do as Persons of Quality did: That she had heard, how that in the time of his Ancestors a Soldier did not approach 'em but with respect; and should be overjoyed he might again have the same influence.  
The Marquis de Florange was of a Family that had produced brave men; but the Valour of his Ancestors had not reached his Person; insomuch that he had been but one single Campaign in the Army: Nay, and he returned thence two months before the rest, as in no wise delighting in that Profession. Thus finding little satisfaction in his Wife's Discourse, he replied, that her contrivance lay to get him out of the way; but besides the Concerns of his Family, that wedded him to his own house, he was in no wise inclined to give her that satisfaction.  
The Marchioness was picqued by his answer; and as this his carriage spoke his little regard for her, she told him, that it was long since she had begun to take notice of his ill humour; but that it was not fitting he should cloak his Capriciousness with a Pretext that did an injury to others. And she happened to mutter him out a Coward: and as nothing is so offensive as truth, the Marquis fell into an extraordinary rage; and they proceeded to give one another hard words.  
Some days after, Florange being obliged to go thence to Paris, upon a Process of Consequence, was at a plunge, whether he should take his Wife along, or leave her at home. He began to be jealous of her, yet without cause; for as yet she saw no body that either had a design upon her, or on whom she could be accused of having any. But whether that Florange had a secret foreknowledge of his misfortune, or that really he in her found some inclination to Gallantry, ordered one of his Domestics before his departure, to have an eye upon her actions. This Domestic was a middle-aged man, and seemed very discreet. He had been in the Wars in his Youth, where he had learned to live; but this was all the profit he had made by them; for having been reformed upon the Pyrenaean Peace, and being destitute of maintenance, he was forced to accept of the first Employ that was proposed to him; and the Marquis de Florange's Father having offered him his house, he accordingly listed himself in his Family, as his Gentleman of the Horse, and to have an eye upon his Son, who was then very young. The Condition was mean for such a man as he; but necessity made him pass over all things. Yet though his Fortune was low, his heart was not the less: and indeed he had never loved other than women of Quality, and from the time he first saw the Marchioness, he found he was not proof against her Charms. However, Respect kept him silent. But the Marquis his Commission beginning to soothe him, he fancied some Change might happen in his Fortune, and that he might insinuate himself into the Marchioness' good Opinion, he imparted the Order to her he had received from her Husband; and assured her that he was more at her Devotion than at any bodies in the world. The Marchioness was surprised at this Discourse, yet not so much for the knowledge it gave her of her Husband's Jealousy, as for this man's good will. For as he had been a long while with the Marquis de Florange, and his Father, she could not apprehend how he so lightly quitted their Interests, to embrace those of a person he but lately knew. After that this thought had possessed her for sometime, instead of guessing at what thus biased Grand Champ, so was the Name of this Domestck, she imagined that he had perceived her innocence, and had only offered her his service out of compassion.  
In the mean while, if her Husband had not seemed over-amiable to her before this, she then thought him altogether horrible, and at his return from Paris, she had all the pain imaginable to endure him. He came back at length towards the end of Summer, which was very bad that year, by reason of the continual Rains. The succeeding Autumn was still more unpleasant, insomuch that all the People of Quality in the Country, seeing the bad weather, talked of repairing into the Cities. The greater part went to Paris; but the Marquis did not think it convenient to carry his Wife thither, he thinking her of too Modish an humour. He knew the Husbands were not in safety there; especially those that are not over-amiable, and have very lovely Wives. The Marchioness expected to spend the Winter in that Town, he having promised she should in the beginning of the Summer; but seeing he changed his mind, this still helped to make her hate him the more. Nevertheless, as he himself did not overmuch delight in a Countryhouse, he resolved to go into some small City, where the influence was not so malign for married people as it might be at Paris. His Estate lay about Soissons; and this was the place he chose in which to recreate himself during the bad weather. This Town is so pretty, insomuch that the Marchioness loved it however better than her Village. No sooner were they got thither, but that the King's Army in Flanders had Orders to separate, and march away to their Winter-Quarters. Many Officers in their Road to Paris, passed through Soissons, and one among the rest, of an extraordinary merit, and of a very eminent Quality; his Regiment had encamped the year afore near the Walls of the Town, with five or six others, that had stayed there for fifteen days, insomuch that he had spent that time in making his Court to a Citizen's Wife; and he came purposely to see her again, she having not used him severely.  
After he had seen her, knowing Florange to be at Soissons with his Lady, he paid him a Visit. They had made acquaintance at Paris two years before, but had never seen the Marchioness, though he had heard her highly extolled. He found her Fame was still short of her Beauty and Merit, insomuch that he could not forbear telling Florange what he thought of his Choice. The Marquis; though of a temper to be easily jealous, was not alarmed at the praises he conferred upon his Wife, as knowing Courtiers to be prodigal of them.  
The Marchioness, on her side, liked the Colonel extremely, and was as much charmed with his good Mien as his Reputation; for he had performed Actions in War that had made him very conspicuous.  
The Marquis de Florange asked him what brought him to Soissons, because that was not the direct way to go to Court; and as young people have commonly more Vanity than Discretion, the Marquis de Mainville, so was this Officer called, owned ingenuously the love he had for the Citizen's Wife, and that she was the cause of his little journey. After this secret, Florange did not wonder to see him stay some time in the City, and the more because that people began already to talk of his Intrigue. As soon as the Rumour of it came to the Marchionesses ears, she perceived herself vexed at the Choice he had made, as if she had already interessed herself in him. She must needs see the Woman that had made so fine a Conquest; but she saw her not, save with the Eyes of a Rival; for though she was passably beautiful, she found her altogether unworthy of the thoughts of a man of Honour. Mainville knew not what passed in his favour in the Marchionesses bosom; but without penetrating into her sentiments, he had such for her, as came very near those she had for him. He found her infinitely lovely, and her Husband, on the contrary, seemed to him unworthy of possessing her.  
He had been told, that he was the most jealous of all men, insomuch that he pitied her, being fallen into the hands of a Person, who so little knew how to relish the happiness he had in possessing so beauteous a Woman. However, though this thought possessed him wholly, he endeavoured to conceal it as much as he could from all the World, for fear of creating Suspicions in the Marquis de Florange's Breast, who after that, would not fail of forbidding him to come to his house, or of carrying his Wife back into the Country. Thus he resolved to use so much Mystery in his Love, that no body should have the least inkling of it, save the Marchioness, bounding all his cares to tell her in private what she had kindled in his heart. Thus he for nothing reckoned the constraint he lived in, being well enough satisfied, provided he gave no jealousy to her Husband. He hoped hereby to render himself agreeable to the Marchioness, as knowing that Women, above all things, prise Discretion. But the Sympathy they had entertained for one another at their first interview, had already produced so much effect upon her, that there was no need of this addition of Civility, to insinuate him into her good Opinion. And indeed whatever her Virtue could dictate to her, to stifle certain agreeable motions she was sensible of in herself, upon thinking on him, she could not overcome them. Thus she perceived, that if she meant to preserve her Innocence, she must distance herself from a place where she could not stay, without running the risk of being ruined. But much ado had she to come to this Resolution, because nothing is so difficult to reject, as agreeable thoughts; but considering it to be the only means to ward off the afflictions with which she was threatened, she desired the Marquis de Florange, that he would go to his Countryhouse; if not, that he would suffer her to go thither without him.  
He asked her, what could be the cause of so great a change; and her answer was, that the Air of the Town injured her, and that that of the Country would be much better for her. Yet as she looked well, he thought this to be only a Pretext, and was not overhasty to grant her her request. Besides, he himself hated, as I have said, the Country, insomuch, that for fear of being obliged of returning thither, he desired the Marquis de Mainville to prevail with her to spend the Winter at Soissons, telling him, that she would ever contribute towards his Diversion, in case he made any stay in that Town. Mainville, who had hitherto in vain waited for an occasion to speak to the Marchioness in private, was over joyed at this which Fortune sent him. He went at the same time into her Chamber, and surprised her extremely by his manner of coming thither; for he was quite out of countenance, and as a man newly labouring under some great trouble. She asked him, what put him upon coming to see her, he that had not been to see her since he came to Town: and this obliging reproach affording him matter of entering into Discourse, he made her answer, that it would be easy for him to satisfy her upon that point, if she would take the trouble of hearing him. Thereupon he acquainted her how passionately he had loved her from the first moment he saw her; but that having perceived the jealous humour of her Husband, he had kept that strict hand upon himself, that he believed neither he nor she had taken notice of his Passion. That Florange sent him thither to discourse her upon business; but being unable to live any longer without knowing after what manner she would receive the offers of his service, he took that time to ask her, whether she would render him unhappy, that he had blazed about his design to lie upon another; but that the person he had pretended to love, served only for a Cover to his real inclinations, since he was uncapable of loving any other than her.  
Mainville's Discourse seemed to be extremely grateful to the Marchioness, since she was as fervently loved by him as she loved him; nevertheless she fell a weeping, as if he had informed her of the Death of all her Friends. So extraordinary a procedure put Mainville into an extraordinary surprise. He asked her, why she grieved so very much; but the more he pressed her to answer him, the more her grief seemed to augment. He then fell to eyeing her from head to foot, fearing she was not over-wise. This thought had been capable of curing him; but the Marchioness breaking silence, told him, he would not wonder at her tears after what she had to acquaint him withal: That she loved him as much at least as he could love her; and that this her weakness made her fearful: That her Design was to maintain her Virtue; but that it was difficult to answer for it, when one had such an inclination for a person, as she had for him. She then informed him of the request she had made to her Husband, of carrying her back to their Countryhouse, that she might have the means of shunning his sight; and Mainville knew well enough that she spoke the truth, since he himself was encharged to divert her from her Resolution.  
As it is natural to flatter one's self, Mainville, instead of being alarmed at her Virtue, thought only to thank her for her kind thoughts of him; but the Marchioness interrupting him in the midst of his Discourse, told him roundly, that he was not yet got where he imagined, and that the more she was sensible of her weakness, the more efforts she was going to use never to see him again. It is easy to imagine, that he attempted to inspire her with other Sentiments, and exercised his utmost Wit for that purpose; but the Marchioness was a Woman of Courage, insomuch that after having left him, she sent for Grand-Champ, to desire a great service of him. That he had great Credit in her Husband's good Opinion, and wished he would employ it so, in obtaining his permission for her to return into the Country. Grand-Champ was surprised at this Discourse, as knowing the aversion the Marchioness had for a solitary life. Thus his answer was, that she thought not on what she said; and turning her Discourse into Raillery, he assured her he should ever be so careful of her content, as not to procure her a thing as would so much accrue to her dissatisfaction. Then was the Marchioness obliged to put on her most serious looks, to let him know that she spoke in good earnest; and at length she did so thoroughly represent to him, that it would be the doing her a kindness, that he promised her to do all he could with Florange, to content her in her desires. The Marchioness in discoursing Grand-Champ, was as free in her speech with him, as she might be with a man whose Conversation could not be of any Consequence, insomuch that she chanced to say, that she should be as happy with him in a Village, as if she was in the best City in the world. This man did not want a good Opinion of himself, insomuch, that interpreting these words at the foot of the Letter, he thought he was happier than he had imagined. He had ever cloaked his Love with the appearances of Civility and Respect; he then imagined, that without being too vain, he might give it less narrow bounds. Thus he resolved on the first occasion, to bemoan himself for the Sentiments he had so long entertained for her, not doubting but that the success would be answerable to his hopes.  
The Marchioness did from day to day wait for her Husband's answer, when Grand-Champ, to cut off what was least necessary, told her, that he found it difficult to obtain what she desired; but that he would not desist however. In the space between the Marchionesses request, and Grand-Champ's answer, she saw the Marquis de Mainville again; and his Visits did not help to cure her of her Passion. On the contrary, she became so sensible, that she was afraid, that if these Interviews lasted any long time, she should have much a do at length to reject his persecutions; for he was too urging. Wherefore she told Grand-Champ, that she had a secret to trust him withal, but that being of the utmost moment to her, to confide it only in the hands of a man, on whose discretion she might rely; she would have him first swear, that he would never speak of it to any body. Grand-Champ was prepossessed, as I have said, with a great Opinion of himself; and this discourse fully persuading him of his good fortune, he made a thousand Oaths of Fidelity to the Marchioness, to induce her to declare her secret to him. She thereupon told him, that though it was not handsome for a Lady to own her weakness, she could not however conceal it any longer, without rendering it remediless. That she had an inconceivable confusion for it; but that he ought rather to pity than blame her; and so much the more, as that she used her utmost endeavours, as that she might have nothing to reproach herself withal: That she was going to unbosom to him, to the very secret motions of her heart, that it would be for him to condemn her after this, if he found her culpable.  
Hitherto the Marchioness had said nothing but what entertained Grand-Champ in his foolish hopes; but when she had declared to him the Passion she had for Mainville, and that he had for her, he was, for all the world, in as great confusion, as if he had been caught in doing some ill action. How Madam, cried he, after some moments of silence, You love the Marquis de Mainville! the Marquis de Mainville, who is over head and ears in love with a Citizen's Wife, and who out of Courtship to her, has abandoned the Care of his Fortune? Yes, I love him, the Marchioness replied faintly, and my desiring to distance myself from hence, is only for that I am afraid of loving him too much. Many Women in my place, would perhaps contrive the means of seeing him on all occasions; but for my part, I mean to avoid him, because he has a secret Charm, against which I cannot defend myself. Ah Madam! Grand-Champ replied, to whom all these words were as so many stabs into his heart; seek an other Confident than me; I find not myself proper to render you the service you require of me, and I should deceive you if I had promised you. At these words he went his way, all transported with anger, without vouchsafing to hear her farther. The Marchioness did what she could to detain him, being very willing to clear all his scruples; but she took her time ill, since the rage he was in to see himself fallen from his hopes, put him into an inconceivable Despair.  
As he had manifested a great deal of Passion in the reproaches he had made her, it was no difficult matter for the Marchioness to know, that he was Mainville's Rival. She called to mind a world of actions that Love had made him commit, which she had not minded before; but which then confirmed her in the thought she had of him, insomuch that she was extremely vexed that she had made him her Confident. However, as there was now no Remedy, she fell to contriving how to appease him, and fancied she might do it, had he any reason left. For she represented to herself, that not being Mistress of her own heart, he ought to be satisfied with the efforts she made to stifle her Passion, and with the Resolution she had taken to withdraw into the Country. Said she likewise to herself, that if he loved her, he would help her to obtain her Husband's leave for that purpose, which she passionately desired, so to root out a Love, which all agreeable as it was, yet made her labour under great apprehensions.  
While she was expecting this from Grand-Champ's jealousy, Mainville being alarmed at the instances she made to Florange, that she might leave the City, did slily inculcate suspicions in the mind of that credulous Husband; sometimes telling him, after a drolling manner, that his Wife was in love with some or other in his Neighbourhood. But Florange, who far from being tractable upon that matter, was susceptible of the least thing, conceived such disadvantageous impressions of her Conduct, that when she spoke to him again, of returning to their Countryhouse, he not only denied her, but did it after such a disobliging manner, that she was nettled to the very heart. At first she had recourse to her fears; but Grief having made room for Resentment, it came into her head, to revenge herself that way he most apprehended. For some time she found a certain pleasure in entertaining herself, with this thought; but her Virtue having got the ascendant, she blushed for having been capable of conceiving a thing to her so disadvantageous.  
In a few days after, Grand Champ entered her Room with a wild, staring look, and such as suited very much with the state of his Soul. He told her, that he came to take his leave of her, and that he had at that time such concerns upon his hands, as obliged him to be gone. His Compliments surprised the Marchioness. She endeavoured to divert him from his Resolution, rightly guessing at the occasion; but he made her answer, that he could not stay any longer in a place where he should have daily before his Eyes, a Rack a thousand times more cruel than Death itself. That after what she had told him, as he knew the effects of Love, he did not doubt but that the passion she had for the Marquis de Mainville, would rather augment than diminish; that he foresaw strange Consequences, not that he suspected her of being ever wanting to her Virtue, but out of the knowledge he had of her Husband's jealous humour, who would be over joyed to find a Pretext to use her ill.  
Thus did Grand-Champ, under fine appearances, conceal the real Cause of his discontent: for it was only Jealousy that induced him to desire to be gone. In the mean while he put a thousand fears into the Marchionesses head, by the misfortunes with which he threatened her: and if the love she had for Mainville, had not already been very violent, his Discourse had been capable of clearing her heart of it entirely. She could have wished it had been in her power so to have done. And indeed that she might have a person to sustain her staggering Virtue, she conjured Grand-Champ not to abandon her in her present Condition, promising him to do all things imaginable to overcome her weakness. You'll see, said she to him, that the love I have for Mainville, is not an effect of my inclination; and that one's Star may be rectified, when it would hurry us into the precipice against our wills. And indeed to what use would our reason be, if we cannot put it in practice when we have need of it? and without this, what difference would there be between Men and Beasts?  
Grand-Champ was so troubled, that he could hardly understand one bare word of what the Marchioness said; but seeing she pressed him a new to give her answer: What would ye have me tell you, Madam, he replied to her, and will you force me, willy nilly, to own my Crime t' ye? I am as culpable as unfortunate; I know what I am, and what you are; and the knowledge I have of both, has not hindered me from loving you. I adore you, since I must needs tell you so, and you adore the Marquis de Mainville. After this, the only course for me, is to distance myself from hence; and though you should pardon me the excess of my temerity, I could not pardon myself for it, and for having dared to love you, without being capable of exciting the same flames in you as you have excited in me. An other inspires you with those agreeable movements, which I would make you sensible of at the cost of my life. Thus it is no longer pleasant to me, since I have nothing more to hope. At these words he would have gone his ways, without staying for an answer; but the Marchioness recalling him, made him turn his Head against his will; and he observed an inconceivable grief in her face. What would ye have of me, Madam, he then retorted, with an air wherein Love and Despair did equally appear? Would ye have me suffer here all that is most cruel for man to suffer? That I see every day before me the most lovely Lady living, without daring to lift up my Eyes to her: Thus I contemplate the love I have for the Marquis de Mainville, and that insensible to the one or other, I lead out the most languishing life in the world: No, Madam, you ought not to oblige me to this: you yourself would be a loser, in suffering such a Wretch as I am, to dare to tell you, that he loves you; and though you could bear with it, yet it would not ease me; I should have ever before my Eyes the Marquis de Mainville 's happiness; and perhaps that believing myself as worthy of being beloved as he, notwithstanding the difference there is between our Fortune, I should tell you things as might displease you. It is better for me all at once to distance myself from the most amiable person breathing; and though it cost me my Life, Death will be more pleasant to me than a sight that will make me die every moment. At these words he would again have been going, but the Marchioness holding him by the arm, told him, that if he was minded to oblige her, he would still stay with her Husband: That she bore him not so much ill will for his temerity, as she might have done at an other time, because she herself knew the power of Love. That as to the rest, she was willing to forget all things, provided he promised her never to speak to her of his Passion. That Reason must govern him, as she promised him to let it govern her herself: That she would have him to be a Witness of the efforts she was going to make, to drive Mainville out of her heart; and that if she could not effect that, he would, at least, be with her to mind her of her Virtue.  
In fine, as it is impossible to resist what one loves, Grand-Champ could not decline obeying the Marchioness, and continued to stay with Florange. Nevertheless if she had so much indulgence for him, it was not without very powerful reasons. She considered, that the excess of his Dispair might prompt him to reveal her secret, and that it would be better for her to constrain herself, than be exposed to the anger of a Lover, who had just occasion to complain. On the other side, as her design was to be virtuous, she imagined that Grand-Champ's presence would be capable of keeping her in, and that narrowly watching her actions, she should be ashamed after what she had told him, of manifesting any Weakness.  
Thus while she was studying all possible means for her security, Mainville omitted nothing of what might give a happy success to his Love. He from time to time found the means of discoursing the Marchioness; and his Conversation ruin'd that Lady's Projects. She daily discovered some new Quality in him, as rendered the Vice less hideous to her, insomuch that she was no longer so very desirous to return into the Country.  
Florange, all jealous as he was, perceived nothing as yet; but the Citizen's Wife, whom Mainville had courted before, finding him more faint than ordinary, examined the Cause of it, and was not long without detecting it. Her Rage, upon this, was extreme; and she was upon the point of letting her jealousy break out, without considering she should injure herself as much as the Marchioness. However, still fearing to be deceived, she would have new Proofs of her Lover's Infidelity, before she proceeded to Reproaches against him, and to Invectives against her Rival.  
This Citt, though not of Quality, did nevertheless make some Figure in the Town, as being very rich, and passably handsome. She was one in all the Merry-meetings of that place; and the season of the Carnival then requiring people to be in Disguise, as is the Custom, Florange desired her to make one in a Masquerade, which Mainville, and his Wife were to be of. And that they might be the finer, they sent for  from Paris, six for Men, and six for Women. They were all alike, and suited well enough with an Entry. They meant to dance at the Wedding of a very pretty Maid, that was to be very suddenly married. That Day being accordingly come, they procured the admiration of all the Company, who were not wont to see people that danced so well as did Mainville and the Marchioness de Florange. After they had danced, these Lovers placed themselves by one another, and Mainville, on whom the Citt had her Eyes fixed, having caressed the Marchioness a little too much, it is difficult to express her vexation on that account. Being transported with anger, she went instantly to make a thousand Reproaches to that perfidious man; but having met in the way a female friend of hers, that stopped her, she neither found Mainville, nor the Marchioness, who had left their places to take others. She endeavoured to find them out in the Crowd, and the Resemblance of  deceiving her, she said to Florange, whom she took for Mainville, You betray me, Marquis, but I'll be revenged on Madam de Florange, though I were to die a moment after Florange knew the Citts' voice again, and her Discourse making an impression upon his Mind, that was but too susceptible of jealousy, he made way into the Crowd, without giving her one word of answer. The Citizen's Wife's Rage was inconceivable in this occasion; She imagined herself absolutely slighted, by the manner of his leaving her, and wished she could extinguish her passion in a moment; but not being able to effect that, she turned all her thoughts to revenge.  
In the mean while Mainville and the Marchioness being ignorant of what passed, did in a Corner enjoy one another's Conversation, without dreaming, that love was preparing them any trouble. Florange sought 'em over all, and finding them stepped aside, he perceived his Fury to redouble. He had opened his Mouth to ask them what they did there; but considering that the Bustle he might make, would retort upon himself, he made semblance of being ill, that he might have a pretence to go home. When he was come to his house, he bid his Wife prepare to leave Soissons on the morrow morning. She asked him the reason; but without vouchsafing to specify any thing, he contented himself with letting her know, that he was not satisfied with her Conduct. She did not close her Eyes all the Night long, making however less reflection on Florange's anger, than on Mainville's cruel separation, she beginning to love him more than her own Life. She lay contriving the means to bid him adieu; but not knowing how to do that, she resolved to write to him as soon as it was day. In effect, she was already thinking of having Pen and Paper, when a new Disquiet did utterly confound her Repose. She knew not with whom to trust her Letter, and thereby plainly saw, that it would be to no purpose for her to write. The day being come, she began to slumber, when her Husband told her, that for a person that was to take a journey, it became her not to sleep so late. Whereupon he made her get out of Bed; after which he went into her Closet, and took thence her Ink and Paper, saying, that he must rifle her of her Courtship, and deprive her of the means of letting her Lover hear from her.  
The Marchioness looked upon him then after a scornful manner, without making him any reply; but she lost all her firmness when she was to take Coach; then did she revolve Mainville's Despondency in her Mind, when he came to know of her Departure; and her Lover's Affliction affected her more than her own Grief. However, as Love becomes the stronger by persecution, she quickly perceived that she loved him more than she had ever yet loved any body. After she was come to their Country house, her Husband suspecting that she would not rest so contented, if the Love she had for Mainville was in any wise strong, he left her neither Ink nor Paper, besides forbidding his people to give her any, though she asked for it.  
While all this passed in this manner, Mainville dreaming of nothing less than of what had happened, sent a How d' ye to Florange's Lodgings. The man he had encharged with this Message being returned thence, and having brought him back word, that he was gone that morning with his Wife, to return to his own house, surprised him extremely. He would believe nothing of it at first, but it having been confirmed to him from another hand, he presently judged, that so sudden a departure was the effect of Florange's Jealousy. He likewise fancied, that there was only himself in the Town that he could six it upon. Thus he rejected his first thoughts, which suggested to him to run after his Mistress. Then seeing that it would be to no purpose for him to stay any longer at Soissons, he resolved to be gone to Paris, whence he had a design to send a man on purpose to the Marchioness. As he was just ready to take Horse, the Citizen's Wife came to his Lodgings, all transported with Fury; for she had newly been told, that he was just a going, without so much as bidding her farewell. She upbraided him with what she had done for him, and his little acknowledgement for all, and forgot not to speak of what had passed the Evening before, accusing him of being the most ungrateful of all men, in not vouchsafing so much as to take the pains to undeceive her. Mainville being surprised at this reproach, which he did not think he had incurred, caused the thing to be explained to him at length; and seeing that the Citts mistake had occasioned Florange's Jealousy, he made her no great reparation for his Coldness; and on the contrary, treated her with sufficient Contempt. After having dismissed her, he departed the Town, on the Road thinking only of the Marchioness, who on her side was only taken up with his remembrance. For without otherwise minding her Husband's rigours, who treated her with sufficient indignity, and who had her watched by five or six persons, to whom he had not been ashamed to discover his Weakness; she wished for nothing else than to know what was become of Mainville. Thus all her thoughts only tending that way, she took a Resolution difficult to form, but which was a strong Proof of her Love. For forgetting all the alarms she had had by having confided her secret in Grand-Champ, she conceived a design to make use of him to be the Go-between of her and Mainville, and to let him hear from her. She knew not however what course to take to exact this Service from him, after what she had said to him; for she dreaded his Reproaches. At length Love being stronger in her than any other Consideration, she conjured him, with Tears in her Eyes, to free her out of pain, and carry a Letter to her Lover. You love me, Grand-Champ, said she to him, and I shall be glad to know it in this Occasion. You'll make me die of Grief, if you refuse me: whereas you'll restore me to Life by doing me this Service. It will cost me mine, Madam, answered Grand-Champ immediately, and you have the cruelty, to desire that I should die the most cruel Death imaginable. But no matter, since this must oblige you, it is for me to obey you without reply.  
After she had thus got his consent, she asked him for Paper and Ink; which he was obliged to furnish her withal accordingly. When she had writ her Letter, she gave it him, begging him to make dispatch, that so Mainville might receive it before he arrived at Paris, whither she suspected him to be going. Grand-Champ, all pierced with Grief, took it from her hands, and pretending some business, that he might get Florange's leave, he mounted on Horseback, and overtook Mainville half way. Mainville, whom the Marchioness had made the Confident of Grand-Champ's Love, trembled at her rashness in trusting him with a matter of this consequence; but at the same time admiring the fidelity of this Domestic, he would needs embrace him, and speak the sense he had of so generous an action. But Grand-Champ retiring two steps back, to avoid his Caresses, told him, that far from assuring him, that he was his Servant, he would frankly tell him, that there was not a man in the World, that he hated more than him; that he was well enough acquainted with the reason; and that if he had stooped so far as to deliver him a Letter from the Marchioness, he thought him possessed of so much delicacy, as not to confound the Character of a passionate Lover, with that of an Unfortunate Rival: That he might judge of his Love by the instance he had newly given of it, and the more this Love was violent, the more the effects of it were to be feared.  
Mainville took no notice that he heard his Menaces: and indeed far from showing any resentment, he did what he could to gain so generous a man, offering him a World of fine things, as of advancing him in War, and serving him with all his Credit. But all these Promises did not work upon Grand-Champ, to do any thing that was low, maintaining his generosity to the last. After this Mainville made answer to the Marchioness, and put his Letter into the hands of this Domestic. She had sent him Word in hers, of what had been the Occasion of her Departure, and how out of the desire she had to see him again, she would rather feign some illness, that she might go to the Waters of Bourbon. She was overjoyed to hear, that Mainville would on his side be there; for so he assured her by his Letter, insomuch that she only discoursed Grand-Champ of her impatience till the season of the Waters was come. The time betwixt this and that, said she to him, will last me a thousand years, and out of the fondness I am under, of seeing him again, there will not be a day but will seem longer than whole years to me. I own that hopes will in some manner ease my pain; but whatever Blessing I expect from so dear a sight, I shall purchase it dearly by the uneasinesses I am going to be under, for fear he should fail his Word. Grand-Champ, continued she, May not the King march to his Conquests in the time of Waters, and dost thou think that Mainville can dispense himself from following him? Honour is a thing very nice in the Soul of a Man of Quality, and I am undone, if Mainville prefers it before his Love.  
Grand-Champ harkened to all this with a Countenance wherein Despair and Rage seemed to triumph over his Passion. Nay, and sometimes was he just ready to load her with Reproaches, if by a return very usual with Lovers, he had not been more afraid of vexing her than of any thing else. However being no longer able to stay in the presence of a Woman that set him a raving mad, he went his ways without saying a word to her. But she was so possessed with her Reflections, that she did not so much as take notice of what was become of him.  
When it was at length the season of drinking the Waters, she asked her Husband leave to go thither, and he could not handsomely refuse her, because she had pretended to be sick, having besides slily engaged the Physicians to say that she stood in need of them for her recovery. Nevertheless Florange being resolved not to leave her one step, made semblance on his side, that the Waters would be good for him, and went along with her. The Marchionesses spite was extraordinary in this Occasion, and if she had durst, she had let it fly out to strange Extremities. She than fell to thinking how to break off this Journey; but making reflection, that so doing would but too clearly manifest her Intrigue, she resolved to advertise Mainville of what occurred, that he might take his measures for his seeing her on the Road.  
Grand-Champ was again encharged to carry him this News; and having accordingly done it with the same fidelity he had exerted the time before, Mainville took Horse for Montargis, and stayed in the best Inn, where the Marchioness had writ him word she was to lodge. Nevertheless he had no other Train than a Valet de Chambre; and for the obviating all suspicion, in case he stayed there any time, he pretended to be sick, that he might at freedom wait the Marchionesses coming. Two days after, she arrived there with her Husband; and no sooner was she alighted, but that she gave Grand-Champ order to acquaint Mainville, that she was desirous to see him. Mainville told Grand-Champ, that could not be till after her Husband was gone to Bed; and as the Marchioness did not lie with him, they would have all sort of leisure of conversing together. When Grand-Champ had given this account to the Marchioness, Ah my God cried she, That's impossible: How see me by Night? That's seeking his own ruin, and the ruining of myself. What would Florange say if he came to know it? and would there after that be any mercy for me? What say you, Grand-Champ? give me good advice in this matter. Grand-Champ, being enraged at what he did, and what he was still obliged to hear, answered not a word; but seeing that she pressed him to tell her his Opinion; How, Madam, he replied to her, Ought you not to be satisfied with what I here do, but you must needs constrain me to discourse you upon a thing of this nature? And to what purpose would it be for me to dissuade you from seeing the Marquis de Mainville, since you will not follow my advice? Why will I not follow it, the Marchioness answered; and should I not be glad, that you would let me see that it was impossible to afford him this satisfaction. No, Madam, it is not impossible, replied Grand-Champ, since that you doubt of it, and you will infallibly see him in your Chamber, since you only deliberate to know whether the thing be feasible or not. I thought you would have declined it out of fear of wounding your honour; but the happy Marquis triumphs over your Scruples. You at first told me, you meant to shun him, with such a World of Precaution; and now you are no longer afraid of singling him out to a private Rendezvous. Ah, Grand-Champ, you are mistaken, the Marchioness answered, and if he comes into my Chamber, I mean not, that you shall go one step from me, that so you yourself may be a Witness, that nothing shall there pass, but what's honest; and that though I be wanting to Decency, I at least am not wanting to Virtue. No, 'tis you that are mistaken, Madam, cried Grand-Champ, if you believe you can be wanting to Decorum, without being wanting to Virtue; for there is such a connexion between them two, that a person can no longer be said to be innocent, when she has once failed in her Conduct, It is for you to make reflection thereupon; and if it proves my misfortune, that my Remonstrances will nothing avail, you need only say what you desire of me: I will still bring, if you order me, this happy Lover, into your very Chamber; but do not oblige me to be present at a Conversation that would make me mad.  
As soon as Grand-Champ had made her these offers, she took him at his Word, conjuring him to pay her this Service. She no longer insisted for him to be present in the Room with Mainville; and this Circumstance cast him into the utmost Despondency; for he framed such things in his imagination as she did not in the least dream of; and which his Jealousy nevertheless made him think to be real. The Marchionesses Chamber was at the end of a Gallery; and there was a kind of Antichamber, where Grand-Champ had Orders to lie. The Marquis de Florange having commanded him to watch his Wife's Conduct so narrowly, as that he might be able to give an exact account of it. Thus it lay in his power to let in whom he pleased; and the excess of his love requiring him to pay this Service to his Rival, he introduced him into the Marchionesses Chamber, and shut the door upon them. While Mainville was there, an Adventure happened in the Inn, that made them both more than a little uneasy. One of the Servants being in Love with the Maid, and fancying he had perceived some Bowels of kindness in her towards him, he stole softly into her Chamber, and made her start out of her sleep. This Wench being honest, beyond what is ordinary in those of her stamp, being to the highest degree surprised at his insolence, gave then a great Scream, which put all the house into alarm. The Marquis de Florange awaked at this noise, as well as the rest, and having heard how the case stood, he was heard to cry out aloud, kill him, kill him. For he had a natural aversion for all those that endeavoured to debauch other men's Wives; fearing, that if he appeared indulgent upon the Article, it might give some Gallant the Boldness to sparkle it to his. His Voice immediately struck Mainville's and the Marchionesses Ears; and Mainville thinking it was him he meant, drew his Sword at the same time, telling the Marchioness, that it would not be so easy a matter as was imagined, to take away his Life. At these Words he broke out of her Arms, that grasped him tenderly, as if she meant to bid him a last farewell, and rushing out of the Chamber, he ran towards the place where he heard Florange a talking. When he was got to the end of the Gallery, he perceived him in his Nightgown, by the Light of a Candle, which a Lackey held before him. This Lackquey no sooner saw Mainville's Sword glitter, but that he let fall the Candle out of fear, at the same time giving a dismal Schriek. Florange, for his part made haste into his Chamber, having likewise perceived the Sword; insomuch that Mainville finding no body to dispute the passage with him, he entered his own Room, without Florange's being able to say, who had put him to so great a fright.  
In the mean while the Marchioness being under a most doleful disquiet for what would happen to Mainville, went out into the Gallery to listen; but coming to know, that the noise that had been made in the Inn, had been occasioned by the Man and Maids Adventure; and hearing no talk of her Lover, she dispersed her fears. After this Grand-Champ advised her to go to Bed, that if her Husband should by chance come into her Chamber, he might not ask why she had sat up so late. Hardly was she undrefsed, but that Florange, who had had time to call all his People to his succours, came, and knocked at her Door, with such a noise, that a body would have said, he meant to break it open. Grand-Champ went and opened it; and the first thing Florange asked him, was, if a man did not go out of his Chamber with his Sword in his hand. He made him answer, that no body could go out there, since the Door had been always shut, and that if he had not heard his Voice, he would not have opened it. After this, Florange knocked at his Wife's Chamber-door; and there she made him wait for some time, to make him believe that she was in a deep sleep. At last she made semblance of awaking her Woman, that was a Confident of her Intrigue, and who had been present all the while Mainville stayed with her. Florange taxed 'em both with their sleeping so fast, after they had assured him, they heard not the least of all the noise that had been made in the Inn.  
As soon as Florange had left his Wife, he made reflection upon the Vision he had had of the Sword, and relying upon what Grand-Champ had said to him, he fancied the man to have come out of some of the next Chambers to that of the Marchioness. Thus all was appeased in the Inn; after which all fell asleep again, as if nothing had happened. There was only Mainville, the Marchioness, and Grand-Champ, that could not be of those that tasted of Rest; for their Amour furnished them with sufficient matter of anxiety. As for Grand-Champ, it is easy to judge he was overwhelmed with grief, and that he could not think of his cruel Destiny, without believing himself the most unfortunate of all men. As to Mainville and the Marchioness, though they ought to be so satisfied, being sure of one another's Love, yet they had great cause of vexation. They had hoped to have enjoyed one another's Company for a whole Night together, and an unhappy Adventure of a Man and a Maid, had disappointed their hopes. Besides, they knew not when they might see one another again; for as they had not had the leisure to take their measures together, Mainville was upon the point of returning to the Army, and the danger he was going to run, did extraordinarily alarm his Mistress.  
The Day being come, Florange and his Wife continued their way; and being arrived at Bourbon, they took the Waters, of which they had no great need. But as it is not the same thing with those Waters, as with the Water of the Seine, which one may drink of, without fear of injuring one's self, they spoiled their Stomaches, either that they had already a Disposition thereunto, or that God thought fitting to punish them for feigning to be sick. Their Indisposition began with a great Indigestion, which at first hindered them from sleeping, and a Fever coming thereupon, it was feared this Malady might have ill Consequences. Thus for prevention, they had recourse to the most able Physicians; but they exhausted their whole Knowledge, without giving any ease to their Patients. This occasioned their Friends to begin to despair of their Health. The Marquis de Mainville was then at the Army, whither he went after the adventure of Monturgis. The Marchioness, thinking herself at the Extremity, signified to him the state she was in; and he had no sooner learned this ill News, but that he resolved to go see her, let what would come on't. There was no room for his desiring leave. The King granted none: Wherefore he pretended himself sick, that he might have a pretence to be carried into a Neighbouring Town. As soon as he was there arrived, he won the heart of his Landlord, and of a Physician, and prevailed with them to give out, that he was in great danger; insomuch, that when any one came to pay him a Visit, they said, he was not to be seen, by reason of the Violence of his Distemper. His Servants had also Order to remain bareheaded in his Room, and when any Persons came to inquire after his Health, they made them answer softly at the Door, as if they had been afraid of disturbing his Head. In the mean while Mainville having taken his measures thus well, went away Post in the dusk of the Evening, and repaired to Paris, where the Marchioness de Florange was sick. He saw her by Grand Champ's means, and found her in better Health than he expected. For her Distemper, when just upon the point of tumbling her into her Grave, was diminished all on the sudden; and but that her looks spoke her to have been ill, a man would hardly have believed it, so well was she recovered. The Marchionesses joy was great, to see so signal an instance of her Lover's Passion. She embraced him with an extraordinary tenderness, and by insatiable Caresses, testified she could never sufficiently express her acknowledgement.  
Mainville, who was as foolish as are all people that are in Love, was charmed with her affection, and neglected his Duty; insomuch that he was now but little afraid of his Cheat coming to be detected. Thus giving all his Thoughts, and all his Cares to his Mistress, his contrivance lay only how to be daily with her; in which he found nevertheless some difficulty, because that Grand-Champ was to departed that very Evening, to go into Picardy, whither he was sent by Florange. Nevertheless, to return after having seen her but once, was a thing he could not resolve on, finding he had hazarded too much to have such scanty satisfaction. In fine, after having one while listened to his Reason, which advised him to return to the Army, and another while his Passion, that thwarted those Intentions, this latter got the Ascendant, and he studied the means of getting to speak, at least once again with his Mistress, For that purpose he dressed himself up as a Physician, and under that Habit he had free admittance into her Chamber, without needing any body to introduce him. Though that his Features were too deeply engraved in the Marchionesses mind, for her to mistake him, yet the surprise of that Lady was extreme, when he took her by the Arm, to feel her Pulse. She immediately dimiss'd all the Servants out of the Room, except her Woman, whom she did not suspect. Then giving Mainville a strong Reprimand, for exposing himself and her too to such a danger, she forbidden him to venture so again, telling him, that he ought; at least, to advertise her of his Disguise, to prevent her first surprise. Mainville excused himself the best he could, rejecting all upon his Love, and upon his not having known that Grand-Champ was to be gone till after he had left her. After this Conversation, they began an other, extremely tender; and as they were going to engage deeply into amorous softnesses, the Marchionesses usual Physician came in, who was strangely surprised to find an other Physician at the sick Beauty's Beds-head. His Cheeks glowed for mere anger, thinking that he was slighted. He asked Mainville, by whose Order he came thither, he whom he did not know to be of the Faculty of Paris. Mainville was strangely non plused at his Question, seeing how furious he was upon the matter: But making a Virtue of Necessity, he replied, that he went no where without being sent for: That though he was not of the Faculty of Paris, yet he was not the less expert; and that the Physicians of Montpelier did in nothing come short of all the Physicians of the Kingdom.  
There is a certain Antipathy between the Physicians of Paris, and those of Montpelier, insomuch that this Discourse still augmented the usual Physician's Resentment. He took fire at the same time, and after having discharged his Choler against this new Doctor, he told the Marchioness, that since she put so much Confidence in an ignorant Fellow, she might make use of him, and that it was the last time he would visit her. Nevertheless, upon his going away, he went to Florange's Chamber, where his heart being full of what had befallen him, he complained of the Affront that was done him. Florange was still very sick, being nothing so near his recovery as his Wife was to hers. For he had still daily Transports in his Brain, that made him rave; but being the most jealous of all men, he immediately disinherited the Montplier Physician, and to see if he was not mistaken, he at the same time took his Nightgown, and went into his Wife's Chamber. On the way he told the Doctor, that it was for his sake that he took this pains, as being willing to conceal his Jealousy. The Doctor was so transported with Anger, that he made not any effort to hinder him; and though he knew well enough in his mind, that stirring out of his Bed did not befit his present Circumstances, yet he was overjoyed that he had this satisfaction given him. He'll be your Death, said he to him as they went along, if you make use of him. He is but a mere Quack, and that you'll presently perceive by his Mien. As he entertained him with such like Discourses, to animate him the more, they entered the Marchionesses Chamber; and Florange's surprise was extraordinary, when he found that the Physician of Montpelier, and the Marquis de Mainville, were but one and the same thing. How, cried he at the same time, the Marquis de Mainville is turned Doctor! How can that be, and since when is this Metamorphosis? I must be revenged, and offer up to my resentment a Friend that ruins me, and triumphs over my Honour. At this Name of Mainville, which was universally known, the true Physician remained as much confounded as Florange: for he then plainly saw he had committed a great mistake, in discovering what but for him had been concealed. He trembled for fear, knowing how dangerous it was to incur the Indignation of a man of that Consequence, Wherefore he would have given all he had to have retrieved the Blunder he had made.  
On the other side, Mainville and his Mistress were no less afraid than the Doctor; but Love, which was the first cause of this Disorder, since it was it that had induced Mainville to put himself into a Disguise, suggested a thing to Mainville, that freed them both out of perplexity. He began to seize upon the Marquis de Florange, crying, that his Frenzy took him; and that if they did not carry him back to Bed, it was capable of being his Death. He at the same time trod upon the Physician's Foot; and he understanding what this meant, joined with him to make the poor Florange believe, that he was very ill. Good Lord! what a furious transport, cried the Doctor at the same time, to take a Physician for a Marquis, and to suspect him also of attempting upon his Honour. My Lord, you must drink a refreshing Ptisanne, or else you are a lost man. Florange was terribly enraged at this Discourse, as not over-well knowing whether he raved or not. However, the two Physicians, his Wife, and her Woman, ceased not dragging of him into his own Room, and putting him to Bed again in spite of his teeth. Then had he a real Frenzy, holding a thousand extravagant Discourses. The Physician of Montpelier took that time to bid the Company farewel; and the Marchioness saw him departed with less regret; judging, that after what had happened, it would be putting him into too evident a danger, and herself too for to detain him.  
When Mainville was gone away, he went to his House who writes the Gazet; where in consideration of some money, he had inserted, that he was extreme sick in the Town where he was thought to be, and that there was no longer any hopes of his Life. From thence he went to Florange's Physician, to whom he said, that he pardoned him for having hampered him in so unlucky a business, provided he would maintain to the very last, what he had so well began. He thereupon acquainted him with what he had newly done, that so he might disabuse Florange, if he continued to affirm, that he was paulmed upon by his Wife. He told him, that the Gazet was to be vended the next day throughout the City, and that this fell out very pat for their purpose. After this, he went his ways for the Army, where there was not the least suspicion of all the Pranks he came from playing. Florange's Fit went away, having lasted full Fourteen Hours. He sent for a Kinsman of his Wives, to whom he made his Complaints upon what had befallen him the Evening before, telling him, that he could not keep her after this. This man, who by chance, had read the Gazet in the morning, and knew besides that Florange had raved all the Night, imagined at his hearing him talk of Mainville, that he was still in his raving Fit. Thus without answering to his Discourse, he told him, that he was only to be fed with good Broths, that so he might be brought to his right Senses, and his Head settled. But Florange bursting out into anger; My Head, said he to him, is too sick ever to be settled; and I wonder that you, who are my Relation, as well as Madam de Florange's, would make me believe, that I am a Visionary fellow. You are so in truth, if there ever was one, this Kinsman answered, to conceive a jealousy of a man, who at this hour is not perhaps alive. Mainville has been sick a long time, and the state he is in, does with a Vengeance hinder him from thinking of 〈◊〉 Wife. Take my Word, Cou●…, if you mean to fall out with her, use at least a more probable pretext than this; for you'll have no body on your side, as long as you have this only to say against her. Thereupon the wont Physician entered, who had provided himself with a Gazet; and Florange going to take him for Witness, that he affirmed nothing but what was true, had the confusion to see himself still accused of raving. You think not of what you say, My Lord, said this Physician to him; 'tis the Remains of your Distemper that make you talk in this manner: The Marquis de Mainville lies at the utmost extremity; and if he dies, it will be a great loss to his Family. Thereupon he took the Gazet out of his Pocket, and read aloud the Article concerning this Marquis. After this he highly extolled his Noble Actions; adding, that he might have pushed on his Fortune much farther, but 〈◊〉 hasty a Death. Florange's con●…on was great, after reading of the Gazet. He began to believe, that the violence of his Malady was the occasion of his Suspicions; and after having more and more confirmed himself in this Opinion, because that his Kinsman, and the Physician, still continued to tell him the same thing, at length he was so well persuaded, that he ask d the former pardon for the Complaints he had made to him.  
The Marchioness had been thitherto under extraordinary fear; but being informed by her Physician, that her Husband began to repent of his having taxed her, she quickly dismissed her apprehensions. The rest of the Summer was spent without furnishing her with any other Adventure; and her Husband being quite out of danger, she went along with him to their Countryhouse. About the beginning of Autumn they took a journey to our Lady of Liesse, in acknowledgement of their Recovery; and Devotion having spirited Mainville to go thither at his return from the Campaign, he accidentally met them as they were in the Church. Mainville made no scruple of accosting Florange, twitting him with his going from Soissons without bidding him adieu. Florange was in a rage, that he was obliged to suffer his Conversation: Thus he received him coldly: but Mainville having perceived it, made as if he had urgent Business; insomuch that he himself freed him out of perplexity, by remounting on Horse back. By this means he had not time to discourse the Marchioness; but his eyes finding her more beauteous than ever, they explained to her in one moment all that he had to say to her. After he was gone, Florange recalling all his Ideas into his memory, took it ill, that he should meet 'em so pat at our Lady of Liesse. He imagined, that this could not fall out without his being advertized; and in his heart he accused the Marchioness of it. After having performed his Devotions in that Church, he returned to his own home, and on the Road spoke not so much as one Word to his Wife; so spighted was he at this Adventure. When he was come thither, he entertained Grand-Champ with the Encounter he had had, and declared to him his Suspicions. Grand-Champ jumped with him in his Opinion; but yet endeavoured to undeceive him, that he might not expose the Marchioness to vexatious Reproaches. He was still over Head and Ears in Love with her; insomuch, that this Lady coming on her side to tell him, how Chance had brought Mainville and her to an Interview, when she least expected it. That was no hard matter, Madam, said he to her; and when one is of intelligence with chance, things still more surprising happen out. The Marchioness being amazed at the freedom he took of making her Reproaches, told him after a disdainful manner, that it became indeed such a man as he to intermeddle in her concerns: That now she plainly perceived her mistake, when she thought him an honest man; and that all Servants returned sooner or later to their Character. It is impossible to express how dismally the amorous Grand-Champ was mortified with this word Servant. He had hitherto imagined he might one day come to touch the Marchioness, if she once came to make reflection of all he did for her: But losing all hopes after this last instance of her Contempt, he left her with his heart full of rage. No, she does not deserve, said he to himself, the esteem of a worthy man: She's a mere Coquet, that's won by a gaudy outside; and I ought to indulge my Revenge, unless I mean to pass for the most faint-hearted of all Lovers. I serve a Rival, to please him; I rack myself to death, as a body may say, to serve the man in the World I most hate; I espouse the interests of that ungrateful Woman, to make her Husband believe, that he has a Wife extreme discreet; yet for my reward she calls me Servant.— No, I cannot think on't without bursting into a Fury; and either I have no power over my mind, or I shall quickly forget her.  
As Grand-Champ was entertaining himself with this Discourse, and much other stuff of the like Nature, that expressed the excess of his Resentment, word was brought him, that a man enquired for him; and going to see who it was, it was found to be a Person from Mainville.  
This Marquis had made a stop at Villers-Cotterets, whence he had written to his Mistress. His Messenger having presented his Letter to Grand-Champ, besought him to make an answer as soon as possible to his Master. Grand-Champ returned a moment after, and told the Messenger, that Mainville might come about midnight, and that he should find the Park-door open: That the Marchioness had not had time to write to him; but that this was sufficient. This man made haste to return; and when half way, he met Mainville, who was so impatient to know if the Marchioness would accept of a Rendezvous, that he required of her by his Letter, that he was mounted on Horseback, to avail himself of it the sooner. This Messenger gave him an account of what Grand-Champ had said to him; but at the same time advised him to turn back, saying, that he seemed to be in a strange Concern when he gave him his Answer; and that either he was mistaken, or that it was not safe to trust to his Word. Mainville made a mock of his fear, and continued on his way. But this Messenger was not so much mistaken as Mainville imagined. For indeed Grand-Champ finding that this occasion was favourable to revenge himself of the Marchionesses slights, had carried Mainville's Letter to Florange, in the first Heat of his Resentment, letting him by that see that his Suspicions were not over-ill grounded. Nevertheless, he was cautious of telling him, that he was the Party that had carried on the Intrigues of these Lovers to the point it was at. Far from this, he made him believe, that this Letter was fallen by chance into his hands; and that he had no sooner seen what it contained, but that he had delivered it to him.  
Florange being ascertained of his Dishonour, or at least, that he was robbed of his Wife's Heart, did not hesitate one moment, as to being revenged. He, with Grand-Champ, resolved to surprise Mainville in his Wife's Chamber, and sacrifice them both to his Resentment. In the mean time Mainville still advanced, not in the least dreaming of what was brewing against him. He found the Park-door open, as Grand-Champ had sent him word, and slipping between a Palisade, he got to the House-door, which was half open. Grand-Champ, the better to make him fall into the Trap that was laid for him, had not only described the House to the Messenger, but had likewise promised to stand behind this last Door, whence he was to convey Mainville into the Marchionesses Room. He had likewise told this Lady, that Mainville was to come to her, that she might leave her Door open. Her eagerness to see him again, had made her fall into the Snare, without requiring other assurance than Grand-Champ's Word. When Mainville was come to the House-door, he really found this Domestic, who conducted him as far as the Marchionesses Room, whose Door he found. Grand-Champ, after that, withdrew; but by a surprising Recollection, he, who only breathed Revenge, since the Marchioness had treated him ill, found himself moved with Compassion, revolving in his mind the unhappy Condition to which she was going to be reduced. In short, his Love got the upperhand in a moment. His Eyes were all bathed in Tears, out of Grief for having been the Cause of so lovely a Person's Death; and in a word, if nothing was to do, but to give her the very last Drop of his Blood, to repair what he had done, he would willingly have given it.  
In the mean while he was to give an Answer to Florange, who had planted himself behind a Palisade of Maple to see Mainville pass. This Husband had heard him as he slipped by between the Trees: Nay, and had seen him; insomuch, that growing weary of staying any longer in that place, since it was time to come to slashing, he went his way, to know what detained Grand-Champ from coming to give him notice. He found this Unfortunate Domestic Twenty Paces from his Ambuscade; and having asked him, whether he had conducted Mainville above Stairs, he made answer, No; and that he must needs have failed the Assignation. Prithee, why that upon me, replied Florange in anger; for I saw him pass by where I was. At these words he would have gone up into the Marchionesses Chamber; but Grand-Champ stopping him by the Arm, told him, that his going might cause him to miss his aim; that it was convenient for him to go up first, to see if Mainville was there; that he would come and give him an account at the bottom of the Stairs; and that afterwards it would be for him not to lose the occasion of being revenged. Florange, notwithstanding the greatness of the Offence, could not yet put off a certain I ear that was natural to him. Thus being willing that any other than himself should make the first Paces, he complied with all Grand-Champ proposed, and stayed for him at the bottom of the Stairs. Grand-Champ seeing this, mounted above, without losing of time; and having caused the Door to be opened, he extremely surprised these Lovers, when he told them all was ruined. Being seized with Fear, they asked him what had fallen out: But Grand-Champ, more undone than they, made answer, that it was not a time to hold long Discourses, and that Mainville must be gone at the very instant, if he meant to be alive a Quarter of an Hour after. That he would find Florange at the bottom of the Staircase; and that to pass safely, he must counterfeit his Voice, and tell him, that now is the time for you to be revenged. That he could say nothing more to him at present, and that another time he would unravel this mystery unto him.  
At these words he took Mainville by the Arm, to shove him out, conjuring him to make his escape, and at the same time to save the Marchionesses Honour and Life. As this Discourse was too pressing to lose time in deliberation, he did not stand upon much entreaty: Down stole he as softly as he could, holding by the Rails, and finding Florange at the bottom, who stopped him, he whispered in his Ear what Grand-Champ had said to him. Florange heard those words distinctly, but did not know his Voice; insomuch, that thinking to find Mainville above, he mounted hastily, breathing nothing but Revenge. Mainville had left the Marchionesses Chamber-Door open, and Florange entering therein, with a Pistol in one Hand, and a Sword in the other, he sought for Mainville, as the first Victim he ought to offer up to his Resentment. He was much amazed to see only Grand-Champ, leaning against a Table, and the Marchioness on the other side, not having the power to support herself. Where am I, cried he at this sight, and what's become of Mainville? Speak Grand-Champ: did you not tell me he was here, and coming up after me, how came you to be in this Chamber? Grand Champ being prepared for all that Florange could say to him, and resolved to save the Marchionesses Life at the expense of his own, looked upon him fixedly, and addressing his Speech to him: Kill me, my Lord, said he to him, since I have deserved Death: I am the greatest Cheat of all men, in having falsely accused my Lady. I have made you conceive a false Opinion of her Virtue, by forging to you a Letter from Mainville, to induce you to use her ill: And what is still beyond all this, is, that Love is the occasion of all these Crimes. There is not any other man, save I, continued he, that had any intentions to seduce her: And if I had brought them about, I should not have been so enraged, to undertake to make you shed a Blood that ought to be so dear to you. I now perceive my fault; and to punish me for it, you need only to pierce my Bosom. At the same time he presented himself before him, offering himself to a voluntary Death: But Florange not being able to reconcile these Words with what had been told him at the bottom of the Staircase; Do you kill me, said he to him, or free me out of pain, by acquainting me, how you came hither before me, and what is become of him that spoke to me before that I came up. No body can have spoke to you, replied Grand-Champ faintly; and through a prepossession of your Passion, you imagined you heard what no body can have said to you. The sincere confession I have made t' ye of my fault, aught to convince you of it: for I would not expose myself to your Resentment for an other. It is I alone that am culpable; and Madam de Florange, and the Marquis de Mainville are innocent.  
The Marchioness at first could not imagine the meaning of all this; but beginning to apprehend something, she broke silence, to complain of her Husband's Suspicions, as if he had really been mightily in the wrong, to doubt of her Virtue. So as that poor Florange being in Despondency at so extraordinary an Adventure, withdrew into his own Apartment, without having the power to take any Resolution. After this Grand-Champ made the Marchioness a sincere Confession of his fault; and as he was penetrated with regret, he would in her presence have run himself through with his Sword; telling her, that he could no longer live, after having so mortally offended her. But the Marchioness leaping upon him, hindered him from executing his fatal Resolution, and promised him never to call his Crime to mind. I shall have it in mind, Madam, answered he, all my life long; but now it shall not be so long, so as I may weary myself much in the World. At these words he went out of her Chamber after a desperate sort of manner, and without considering that it was Night, he took the first way he found, and did not stop till it was day. The Marquis de Mainville had taken exactly the same Road, and Fortune would have it, that they should both alight in the same Inn. Mainville had newly dispatched away a man to Florange's Castle, to know what had occurred there after his departure; but seeing that Grand-Champ could inform him the best of any body, he desired him, that he would free him out of pain, and tell him all he did not know. Grand-Champ, to satisfy his Curiosity, gave him a long account of the Marchionesses slight, and of the revenge he designed upon her: and continuing the rest of his Story, he acquainted him how when upon the point of sacrificing them both, his Love for the Marchioness had saved them. Alas! then cried Mainville, I should never have suspected you of Treachery. On the contrary, I had so much confidence in you, that I have just now sent a Letter to you for the Marchioness. Unhappy that I am; I have perhaps destroyed your labour: You had set her Husband's mind to rights by your Address; or at least, you had left him in an uncertainty of his misfortune; and my imprudence has spoiled All.  
Grand-Champ had told his Story after so unconcerned a manner, that he seemed now a Party indifferent; but hearing to what danger Mainville had exposed the Marchioness, he seemed to recover new Sentiments. You are really very unhappy, said he to him, in causing so much trouble to a Lady, who would ever have been innocent, had she never known you. I ought nevertheless to be glad, that she has occasion to complain of you, that so she may forget you: But as in this occasion her All is at stake, I shall here wait for the return of your man, that so if he has put your Letter into any other hands than hers, I may still render her a piece of Service. He had no sooner spoke these words, but in came that man, being a Peasant that Mainville had been forced to employ, as having none of his own Servants with him, to whom he could give this Commission. They asked him both at the same time, what was become of the Letter; and the Bumpkin answered them, that he had given it to Grand-Champ. What sort of man is he, cried Mainville immediately, all in Despair at his mistake? He is tall, replied the Peasant, well made, and very neat. He then gave an account of the Person to whom he had delivered his Letter; and Mainville and Grand-Champ, knew plainly by his Portrait of him, that it was fallen into Florange's Hands. Thereupon Grand-Champ entreated Mainville to lend him his Horse; for he was come afoot; telling him, that he was going to pay the Marchioness the last Service he should pay her as long as he lived. Mainville gave him his Horse; and Grand-Champ using dispatch, repaired to the House of a Peasant of Florange's Village, and there wrote a Letter. He then encharged the Peasant with it, with order to put it into the Marchionesses own Hands, as a thing of the highest Consequence. This Peasant did dexterously acquit himself of his Commission; so as that the Marchioness was advertized of the fault Mainville had committed, and to make timely Provision for herself.  
She received this Advice just in the nick: for her Husband designing to convict her of her Intrigue from her own writing, had newly caused Mainville's Letter to be delivered to her under hand, not doubting but that she would make an Answer to it. And indeed she had already Ink and Paper to do it, when that Grand-Champ's Letter made her change her stile. Instead of writing to Mainville, as she was going to do, she writ to her Husband; and leaving the Letter upon her Table, she went to find out Grand-Champ, whom she entreated to accompany her to one of her Relations, whither she had a Design to withdraw. Grand Champ did not stick to grant her the Crupper of his Horse, and convoyed her till such time as that he had put her into a place of safety.  
In the mean while Florange was as impatient to hear of his Wife's Commerce, as if it had been some good news he was to receive. Thus seeing that she delayed her Answer too long, he sent her the Fellow he had caused to deliver Mainville's Letter to her, to inform her, that she was to make more haste. This man found her Chamber-door open; and having seen upon the Table the Letter she had left there, he carried it to Florange, as thinking it to be the same he expected. Florange opened it hastily. But what a wonderful amazement, when instead of what he expected to find therein, he met with a thousand Reproaches. She accused him among other things, of having himself contrived the Letter she had received from Mainville; and he could not convict her of the contrary, because he knew not this Marquis his Hand. She also acquainted him whither she was gone, adding, that she would no longer live with a man that used her rather like a Tyrant than a Husband.  
Though Florange knew himself innocent, and that far from being disabused of his Wife's Intrigue, he every day thought her more criminal, yet could he not hear of her Departure without grief. He suspected that she was gone to tax his Carriage, and that having no Proofs to convict her, her Complaints would prevail in the Minds of her Relations o'er those he might make of her ill Conduct.  
Thus seeing that he had taken his measures ill, he did not waver to go seek her out, and took Coach in that Design with his Wife's. Woman, whom he little suspected of being privy to her Concerns: For she was a Gossip, that under the Oloak of Devotion knew admirably well how to play her Part. He questioned her however on the Road, whether she knew any thing of the matters in agitation; But she affected a false Hypocrisy, meaning to persuade him of the Marchionesses Honesty: and that besides, she was not a Girl to be concerned in an Intrigue. When they were Two Leagues from the place they came, a Horse of his lost his shoes, and they were forced to halt, to have him shooed again. Florange was also a little sickish, which obliged him to go into an Inn to drink a little Wine. While this passed, the Waiting-Gentlewoman, who had alighted out of the Coach, saw a Company of People flocking together at the end of the Village; and being naturally curious, as all Women commonly are, she went on that waywards, to inquire into the matter. When she was come thither, she was told a thing somewhat extraordinary; namely, that a man after having alighted at an Inn, had sent back his Horse four Leagues thence, to a person of whom he had borrowed it; that afterwards he had put himself to Bed, pretending he was sick, and had sent for a Chirurgeon, who had let him Blood; but that this Chirurgeon was no sooner gone, but that he had himself untied his Arm; and that in short, he had shed so great a quantity of Blood, that there were no more hopes of his Life.  
The Novelty of the thing redoubled this Woman's Curiosity; and so much the more, as knowing that Grand-Champ had conducted her Lady upon the Crupper of Mainville's Horse, she had great Suspicions it might be him all this Discourse was of. Thus she resolved herself to see whether she was not mistaken, that so she might afterwards give the Marchioness a faithful account. As soon as she had cast her eyes upon that Wretch, she really knew him to be the wretched Grand-Champ, who was in a very bad Condition. He on his side was not wanting to know her again immediately; and desiring the People to withdraw, as being to discourse her in private. I die, he said to her, the most contented of all men, since that Fortune, which hitherto had been against me, now favours me with your Company, when that I lest expected it, to be the Witness of my last Words. You may tell Madam de Florange, that I have myself advanced my Death, as after her slights not being able to survive. Perhaps that one day she will regret so faithful a Lover. Be it as it will, I only wish her happiness. At these Words a Convulsion Fit seized him; and the Damsel being willing that he should die in other Hands than hers, called for the People again into his Room; and while they were busy in contemplating this Unfortunate Lover, she made away through the Crowd, without notice being taken of what was become of her.  
Florange's fainting Fit had kept all his Servants about him, and hindered them from knowing what passed, which their Lady's Woman was not sorry for, because that it was to be feared, that if Grand-Champ's Adventure had come to his Master's knowledge, he would have gone and discoursed him, and that Grand-Champ would have told him all, for the discharge of his Conscience. In fine, after that Florange had re-collected his Spirits, he took Coach again with her, and they came to the Place of the Marchionesses Retreat. Florange made great Complaints to their Kinsman, that his Wife went so away without saying a word to him: But the Kinsman being prepossessed with what the Marchioness had told him in her Vindication, answered him, that being of such an Humour, he ought not to marry, since there was nothing that madded a Virtuous Woman more, than when her Husband doubted her Virtue. For my part, added he, I shall never advise her to return with you, at least, unless you express a mighty regret for what is passed. Florange seeing himself baffled in this manner, would have spoke of two Letters he had received; but his Kinsman replied upon him, that if that was all he had to allege against her, he might be gone as he came, and that all his own Relations would espouse the Defence of his Wife. Thus was Florange forced to ask his Wife's Pardon, though in his Soul he knew that the fault lay not at his door.  
Madam de Florange having need of the Protection of this Relation in many things, and particularly in this occasion, wherein it was requisite to justify her Conduct, of which it was impossible to hinder Discourse in the World, after what had newly happened, did after this easily comply with the Counsel he gave her, of coming to a Reconciliation with her Husband. They stayed the rest of the Day at his House, and all the next; and Florange being gone out for a moment, the Waiting-Gentlewoman took the time of his absence to entertain her Lady with the sad Adventure of the Unfortunate Grand-Champ. The Marchioness could not retain her Tears at so piteous a Relation, and joining some Regrets to the Tears she had shed, she told her Woman, that he merited a better Fortune. This Discourse surprised that Maid, as knowing how much she had despised him as long as he lived, insomuch that she could not hid her amazement from her. But the Marchioness interrupting her, accused her of having an ill Opinion of her, since that after all the Instances of Love that Grand-Champ had given her, she could not, at least, without being the most ungrateful person in the World, hear that any ill was befallen him without being grieved. This is a tardy gratitude, Madam, the Damsel than cried, and you would have obliged him much more, if you had shown it while he was well. I have ever had a sense for him, replied the Marchioness, but could not then show it without hampering myself in troubles. Mainville would have been jealous, and perhaps that thinking me in love with Grand-Champ, he would have sought out a Consolation for my inconstancy, in the choice of an other Mistress. That is to say, Madam, the Damsel answered, that you loved poor Grand-Champ, but did not love him so well as Mainville. How dissembling are Women! I thought you as nice as any person living in your Love: Nevertheless by what I perceive, you prefer Number before Delicacy. It is very seldom known that a Woman dare talk in such a manner to her Lady; but see what a Confident may do: and I fancy, that if this Maid had been less informed of her Concerns, she would have been more cautious in her words. Be it as it will, Madam de Florange imagining she might suffer, should she leave her in these Sentiments, You mistake me in what I have said, answered she, and you grossly confound Love and Acknowledgement. There is nevertheless a great deal of difference between the One and the Other. The Motions of Love are tender and passionate Motions, excited by Sympathy: whereas those of Gratitude are only ordinary Movements, that are wont to arise from some Benefit that one has received. But, Madam, replied the Damsel, if those Motions which Gratitude excites, are so common as you say, they ought not, methinks, to occasion the shedding of so many tears; and yet this is what you do. Tell me, I beseech you, how this comes to pass: for I fancied, that People afflicted themselves in such manner only when they were lively affected. This you are mistaken in, replied the Marchioness, as you were but a moment ago, when you confounded Gratitude and Love. A great grief never appears so much outwardly as does a mean one: and one would have a bad Opinion of the sensibility of a Person, that should shed tears at the newness of a great misfortune. One must remain seized till that time diminishing the strength of the grief, leaves to man his wont Functions. Then it is that the Eyes distil themselves into Water, as a mark of his Affliction. If I do not make myself well understood, added the Marchioness, I am going to give thee a very familiar Comparison: Thou knowst that Cold, when it is extreme, closes all things, and principally Rivers, whose course remains concealed by reason of the Ice that appears upon the Surface of the Waters. It is even the same thing with a great Grief in the Heart of Man. His Tears are stopped; and as the Current of Rivers only appears when the Cold is diminished, so his Eyes only shed Tears when the Affliction is no longer so strong.  
These are the Reasons the Marchioness gave her Woman, to make her apprehend, that she might bewail: Grand-Champ's misfortunes, without loving him. Nevertheless, she bid her inquire after him, when that they passed by where she had left him. That she needed only to feign some need to alight out of the Coach, and that she might take that time to do what she bid her. The Morning being come, they all set forwards on their Journey, and the Damsel having performed her Commission, she was told, that Grand-Champ was dead but a moment before. She acquainted her Lady with it when they were arrived; and these Tidings renewed her grief.  
During these Occurrences, the Marchioness had an Affliction which much more affected her than Grand-Champ's Death. Mainville remained Two Months without writing to her; and she did not doubt after such great marks of his forgetfulness, but that he had got some new Mistress. She daily complained to her Woman of her misfortune, and of men's Inconstancy. They are all ungrateful, said she to her, and the Ladies are fools for loving them. Their flames lact only just so long as they find satisfaction therein; and as fondness only increases by desires, as soon as these desires are fulfilled, these fondnesses quickly become little or nothing. They never see you afterwards, but out of a lukewarmness: nay, nor would they see you at all, were they not afraid of being taxed with ill-breeding. I leave thee to judge what a Lady can say after this; and if being wont, as she is, to the Movements of a tender and a passionate Love, she rests satisfied with these Civility-Visits. Mainville, the ungrateful Mainville, continued she, is not exempt from these weaknesses; and thou seest after all that I have done for him, what his ingratitude is.  
Though Mainville paid the Damsel well for being in his Interests, she most commonly durst not take his part, finding herself, that he was mightily to blame in that he did not write to her. However, being unwilling utterly to abandon him, she endeavoured to give her Lady still some hopes, telling her one while, that his Letters might miscarry, another, that he was sick, and that otherwise she would have heard of him. But the Marchioness did not suffer herself to be so easily imposed on: She knew that a Man of Mainville's Quality sent a Messenger on purpose, when Two Posts had failed him; and that let a Man be never so sick, he never forgets his Mistress.  
About that time Fame, which carries throughout the whole Earth the Actions of Great Men, blazed about, that Mainville had signalised himself above all others in a Battle. At these News the Marchioness, who was as sensible to Honour as any Woman in the World, found her tenderness to revive. The Resentment she had of her Lover's forgetfulness, had made her discontinue writing to him: She than took Pen and Ink, to express to him the satisfaction she had in his Heroic Performances. Nevertheless she mingled soft and tender Reproaches with the Praises she bestowed upon his fine Actions; insomuch, that one might say, that her Letter was both a Letter of Love and of Civility. Mainville was exactly of the Humour of those People the Marchioness had described to her Woman; too easy Conquests became flat to him, and he had been for some time disgusted because she had done too much for him. But Two months' Absence making him look upon her then as a New Mistress, he renewed writing to her in very passionate Terms, seeking sorry Excuses to colour the little Consideration he had shown for her. The Weakness of People in Love, is so extraordinary, that the Marchioness was satisfied with his Reasons, as if they had been good. Thus their Intrigue was renewed as before, and all as much charmed with one another as they had ever been; they let not a Post slip without interchanging of Letters.  
This Commerce lasted during the rest of the Campaign; and being ready to end, Florange being at Paris upon a Lawsuit, and suspecting that Mainville writ to his Wife, repaired to his own Home, to hinder him from seeing her at his return from the Army. His Precaution was somewhat necessary, because that Mainville was really resolved to see her on his way. Yet was it in vain: for though Mainville knew him to be at home, as he would have been sorry to have come so near to no purpose, he disguised himself, as a Miller's Boy, to see his Wife. This being done, he mounted upon a Mule, with several Sacks under him; and in this Equipage came to the Court of the Castle one day that he knew him out a hunting.  
He was informed, that it was the Marchionesses Woman that caused the Corn to be measured before her, and who received the Meal; so as that he fancied it would be no hard matter to make himself known. But this Nymph little dreaming, that the Marquis de Mainville was become a Miller's Boy, began, without looking him much in the Face, to rattle him, for that his Master had not the time before restored all the Meal he ought to deliver: That is to say, in plain English, that she accused him of being a little Thievish. Mainville laughed hearty in himself at her mistake; but referring till an other time to rally her for it, he got up to her to press her Hand, thinking, that after that she would no longer take him for a Miller. But the Damsel, far from guessing what that meant, called him insolent Rascal; which made all the People flock about him, beginning to threaten him. Then the Damsel viewing him more earnestly, and perceiving the fault she had committed, she was at a very great loss how to repair it: for now was it a little too late, all People flocking to see the Miller. The Marchioness accidentally returned from walking, and having enquired why all her People ran that waywards, she was told the occasion, and going that way herself, her surprise was extreme, when she knew Mainville. Nevertheless, without making any thing known of her amazement, she said, that he ought to be shut up, and that when her Husband was returned from hunting, he should order what he deemed fitting for his Punishment. Her presence of Mind was admirable in this occasion; for she freed him by these means out of her Servants Hands, some of whom might otherwise have known him.  
Thus was he led into a Tower appointed for Criminals; but he was no sooner there, than that the Damsel came to fetch him thence, to convey him to her Lady's Feet. He there forgot the Fright he had been in, when he saw himself surrounded with all Florange's Domestics. These Two Lovers upbraided one another tenderly, for having been so long without writing to each other; and Love largely rewarded them for the pains it had made them suffer. However, after several softnesses it became Mainville to think of being gone; for Florange was every moment expected, and it was necessary to shun his Presence. The Marchioness was the first to mind him of it, and he was so charmed with her Presence, that it was quite out of his thoughts. But considering his Dress, his getting off was difficult: for a Servant might see him go out, and he would not have failed of stopping him, thinking he did a fine Job. The Marchionesses Woman seeing their perplexity, offered to give him a Suit of her , saying, that since she had done all the mischief, it was but Justice that she should bring a Remedy. Mainville willingly received her Offers; and knowing that he should find his Mule at the Park-Gate, he took leave of his Mistress, after having assured her of a Love-Proof against all things.  
He took his way along a Wood, that reaches from the Park of Florange's Castle, to a small Village, but half a League thence. So far went he without any ill Encounter. But when he was beyond it, he met with Florange, who was unhappily returning from hunting. The other Hunters had taken through an other way, and Florange was all alone, either in meditating on the Pleasure he had that day taken in hunting, or perchance in thinking on something else that was not so agreeable. No sooner did Mainville perceive him, but that he sought to get out of his way; but Florange having by chance cast his Eyes on that side, fancied him, by his Garb, to be his Wife's Woman, and in that Opinion he ran full speed to him. As soon as he had overtaken him, he asked him, whither she was a going: for Mainville being masked, he still took it to be the same Person. Mainville made him answer, that he was mistaken, and that not knowing him, she did not think herself obliged to give him an account of her actions. If you do not know me, then Florange replied, you are certainly a Thief, since that this Rigging belongs to my Wife's Woman. I took you at first for her, but I now perceive that I am mistaken. I am neither the one nor the other, Mainville replied, and you are mistaken in the  as well as in the Person. Be advised by me, pursue your way, without insulting me any longer; otherwise you may pay for your intrusion. I am content, replied Florange; but first unmask yourself, that I may judge by your face, whether I am mistaken or not. Mainville was far from doing it; insomuch, that Florange, who never was civil in his Life, seeing that he excused it, set himself to snatch off his Mask.  
Mainville went not to his Amorous Expedition without good Pistols, that in case of Accident, he might be in a posture of defending his Life. Thus seeing himself pressed, he drew out one of them from under his Petticoats, which stopped Florange's Rage: for naturally he had a great respect for all sorts of Fire Arms, running, at least, as fast in his Retreat, as he had done when he came to accost Mainville. When he was in the Village I lately mentioned, he began then to breathe, and sounding an Horn, he called all his Hunters, that could not be far distant. They forthwith ranged themselves about him, and Florange having related his Adventure to them, exhorted them to run after the Unknown, saying, that he must needs be a High-way-man.  
Mainville hearing the Call, did very much suspect that he was going to be pursued; thus being very willing to escape further trouble, if he could, he spurred on. But his Mule not going so fast as Horses, the Huntsmen overtook him before he could get to a Wood he thought to have betaken himself to. They called out immediately to him, to yield himself up; but choosing rather to die, than expose himself to the Discretion of his Enemy, he took his Two Pistols in his Hands, and cried out to the first that advanced, that it should cost him his Life, if he pretended to do any Violence to him.  
In this nick of time there happened Officers to come by, that were returning from the Army; and they seeing so many Men attack a simple Woman, they sided with her, assuring her, that no hurt should be done her, unless they were all first killed. After they had thus offered their Services to Mainville, they asked Florange, and all his Company, what that Lady had done to them, that they used her with so little Civility; And as Florange had only spoke to them of his Suspicions, they carried away Mainville in spite of Florange, and promised to guard him whither he pleased. When he was gone a League from thence, Gentlemen, said he to them, you have taken a great deal of pains, and I hope one day to return the Civility: for though you know not who I am, yet do I know you. In the mean while; if you are minded that the Obligation I have to you, should be complete, you will suffer me now to go, without having the Curiosity of knowing who the Person is whose Defence you have undertaken. At these words they all made him answer, out of a persuasion that he was a Woman, that they would not forsake her till they had brought her to her own Home; and Mainville seeing their Obstinacy, unmasked himself, surprising them very much in making himself known.  
The Command he had in the Army, afforded him a great Authority. Besides, he was of so considerable a Family, that many people were bound to have a respect for him. Thus these Officers asked his Pardon for having obliged him to make himself known against his will, as suspecting that he had put himself into a Disguise upon some occasion that he was not willing should be known publicly. Mainville being a well-bred Gentleman, told them, that after the Service they had done him, it was easy for him to excuse their Curiosity. However that he begged of them, not to make the least mention of his Adventure, because that there were people who delighted in making the worst of all things. He embraced them all after this; and thus having got himself off from this bad Business, he went to find out his Servants, who were not far distant.  
Florange, who was in Despondency, for that these Officers had made him miss of his aim, making reflection of what had newly befallen him, fancied there must be some Mystery underneath All, and returned to his own House with his Soul full of Suspicion. At his arrival he asked his Wife's Woman, whom she had lent her  to; and this Question having puzzled her, she blushed, insomuch that Florange having observed some Change in her Countenance, he pressed her still more to tell him what she had done with them. She then stuttered, saying one while, she had lent no body any , another, that she had quite forgot to whom it was. Florange judging by her Confusion, that something had passed which it was not thought fitting he should know of, went directly to his Wife's Chamber; to whom he put an Hundred Questions, that so he might get from her some light into this matter. The Marchioness had newly been told what was befallen Mainville and her Husband, and how the former had got out of the other's Hands. Thus having nothing to fear on that side, she made him answer, that he made a great deal of noise for a Garment, or so; and that she did not inquire so much as he, with what her Woman did with her things. During these Transactions, the Miller of the House arrived, and finding all the Doors open, he mounted into the very Chamber where Florange was. My Lord, said he to him, without first enquiring, whether he was in an Humour to hear him, I come to assure you, that it was none of my Lads that was saucy to my Lady's Woman: they are all at the Mill; and I neither challenge him nor his Mule, which you may make what Example you please of. It is some Rogue or other, that says he belongs to me, that so he may do me an injury; but good my Lord, let me beseech your Worship, to protect me in this occasion, since you have the Knave in your hands, and that you can by the force of torments, draw the Confession of his Crimes from him.  
What this man said, was Hebrew to Florange, who knew not what passed; but being told the Adventure of the Miller's Man, he gave order for the fetching him out of Prison, and that he should be brought to him that very moment. Those that were officious to obey him, ran immediately to the Tower where he had been shut up; but they found the Door of it open, and the Bird flown. Thus they returned much amazed, to tell Florange, that some body had let the Prisoner escape, and that they knew not who it was. At these words his Suspicions re-doubled, so much the more as that he then remembered that the Damsel he perceived had a Mule, and that there was great probability of her being the Miller's Man.  
He sent the Miller away very much satisfied, by telling him, that he meant him no harm; but seeking to dive into this mystery, he asked his Wife, what was become of the Prisoner, and by whose order he had been put out of Prison. He must needs, the Marchioness replied, have found the Secret of making his Escape himself, and I know no body here that would have been so bold as to have done it without your Orders. The People that have been concerned in't, Madam, Florange repartyed, are more submissive to your Ladyship's order than to mine; and however you defend yourself, yet do I smell out your Contrivance.  
This Conversation was upon the point of being keen on both sides, when the same Relation that had reconciled them, came in. You come very seasonably, said Florange to him, to do me Justice. You accused me of being whymsical and jealous; but I do not think you would harbour that Opinion, after what I have to tell you. He thereupon acquainted him with what had newly happened, and did firmly believe, that he was going to take his part, when the other called him Visionary more than ever. You rave Cousin, said he to him, and I am very sorry I must tell you, that you serve for a Laughingstock to all our Country. I should make a Mock of you as well as the rest, were I not your Kinsman; but I must at length come to that, as no longer finding any means of excusing you in the World. I am not so mad, Cousin, replied Florange to him, as you would fain make me believe: and if the like thing befell you, you would oblige me, in acquainting me what you yourself would say of it. I should say, his Kinsman repartyed, that a real, or a false Miller was come to my house, and that seeing himself confined, he had forced his Prison. As to the Habit, which you make the principal Cause of your Disquiets, I would still say, that my Wife's Woman had lent it to some friend; that I had met with this friend on the way; that she would not make herself known, and without tormenting my head, to dive into the reason, I would let all people be at quiet at home, which would let me be so. That is to say, replied Florange, that you would be a very convenient contented Husband. So convenient, the Cousin answered, that I would never think ill of my Wife, unless I saw it with my own Eyes. Besides, to what purpose, continued he, d' ye so much shrift into a thing which can only afford us matter of trouble? And should I not rather choose to live as all well-bred People do, than live as you do. These Words vexed Florange, insomuch, that he was going to say some disobliging things to his Relation, when that this latter, to avoid his ill Humour, went his ways, without taking leave of him.  
Some days after a Letter came from Paris to Florange, by which he had notice, that his Lawsuit was ready to come to a Trial, and that his Presence there was requisite. I intimated a while ago, that he had laid aside the Care of this Lawsuit, to hinder Mainville from seeing his Wife. His Jealousy having then rather augmented than diminished, he resolved to take her along with him, that he might be the better secured of her Conduct. After that he was got to Town, a person that pretended to be a Friend of his, but meant to banter him, as knowing his Weakness, told him, that if he was so much concerned to know whether his Wife was honest, he would furnish him with a good contrivance. That he knew a famous Female Fortune-teller, to whom nothing was unknown, and that if he would consult her, she would acquaint him with such things as would surprise him. Florange did not want Wit, so as that knowing out of what motive this man discoursed him in this manner, he thanked him coldly for his offers; adding, that it did not belong to all People to concern themselves in the Affairs of a Husband and Wife. Nevertheless Florange considered in himself of what he had said to him, and being silly enough as to imagine, that a Fortune teller could convict his Wife of the Intrigue she had with Mainville, he enquired, under hand, where those sort of People dwelled, and was not long without being informed of the Lodgings of a Woman that pretended that way. None but Fools went to her House, or Persons extremely credulous. Yet not one came thence without being undeceived: for it was by Chance, if she spoke one Truth among a thousand Lies. Florange repaired thither one Morning without any Retinue, and desired this Woman to conceal nothing from him, of whatever consequence the things were that she should find out, either by his Hand or Physiogmony. The Fortune-teller, by his words, guessing at his Ingenuity, began with making him pay beforehand; then discoursed him with what she was wont to say to all those that were so silly as to come and consult her. Florange knowing then how much he was in the wrong, to hope for any thing in her, told her, that it was Pains and Money thrown away, as to come and see her; and as she endeavoured to save herself by a World of silly Stories, with which she lured the most credulous, there came a Man into the Room, habited after a capricious manner, and that would have Bugbeared little Children. His Habit was Black, all done with streams of Fire; insomuch that one would have said, that he had been a Devil that was returned from Hell, or at least, a Man that had borrowed the form of one. He had a Mask that represented a Face to the Life; but so dismal, that a body trembled to look upon it. This Mask was not made of Pasteboard, as all others are, and you would have taken it for real Flesh. The rest of his Habillement suited exactly with the Mask. He had Buskins on, and instead of a Lion's Skin, a Grotesque, representing the Furies, and to his very Shoes one would have said, that they had been the Scales of a Serpent, so well had Art imitated Nature. This Counterfeit-Monster held a Wand in his Hand, with which he struck thrice upon Florange's Head. This poor Marquis needed not this Over-plus of terror, having been sufficiently frighted at the sight of the Monster. He was more dead than alive; insomuch that he would willingly have given the half of his Estate to have been from thence. But his Fright was quite an other thing, when the false Devil spoke to him in this manner; Since that thou believest that the Fortune-teller is not capable of telling thee thy Life, I am come myself to inform thee of all thou wouldst know: Thy Wife is more discreet than thou deservest; and though there be some Appearances against her, these Appearances are less strong than truth. Mainville is neither in love with her, nor she with him, and thou must only accuse thy own Jealousy, if any one has been so spiteful as to take a delight in alaruming thee. The Letters thou hast received are forged Letters, and if thou continuest to be jealous, a great many more will be paulmed upon thee. Such as thou seest me, my Business is to make the living mad, and I shall neither spare my Contrivances nor my Pains, to disturb thy Quiet, unless thou avail'st thyself of my advice.  
It is hard to say which of the two, Florange, or the Fortune-teller, remained the most amazed at these words: for she could not apprehend who it was that played this part. True indeed, that she was not unacquainted with the false Devils Habillement, having herself caused it to be made, to fright such as were fearful. But she knew not who could take it so in the nick, as to ●ay such particular things to Florange. However to render the Adventure still the more extraordinary, Mainville, and the Marchioness, being egged on by the like Curiosity, came to the same place, and finding the House-door open they mounted into the very Fortune tellers Chamber, without meeting with any body to ask them their Business. The false Devil had not shut the Door, so as that Mainville and the Marchioness entered therein, not in the least expecting the People they there met withal. Florange's Fright was extreme at the sight of them, imagining, that the Devil had made them come without their consent. But that of Mainville and the Marchioness was no less, seeing Florange; for than they thought themselves lost without Remedy. He that acted the Magician, or the Devil, as you shall please to call him, seemed quite unhinged and nonplused, remaining for some time without speaking ● word. But all on the sudden recovering his speech: Admire my Pours said he to Florange: Here are 〈◊〉 two Persons that occasion thy Disquiet, whom I have caused to come hither on purpose to tell thee what familiarity passes between them two: Thou wilt learn their innocency from their own Mouths, if thou dost not put confidence enough in what I have told thee. Florange fell into a Swoon at these words; and the false Devil seeing him in that Condition, repulsed Mainville and the Marchioness with his Wand, telling them they had nothing more to do there. They did not stay to be told it twice; and the Marchioness having with much  got again to her Coach, in she stepped, with a Horror more easy to imagine than describe.  
Florange continued still some time in his Swoon, while that the false Devil took the Fortune teller into an other Room, to tell her, that having had the folly; as well as others, to come and see her, he had found that Chamber-door open, wherein he entered. That meeting with no body there, and hearing loud talking in the next Room, he had listened, and perceived Florange's Voice. And having perceived at the same time upon the Bed, that Habit he had upon his Body, he had put it on, to tell him his Fortune, as being informed to every little circumstance of his Life. That she had seen the success of it, and that it was her part now to maintain the Fame such an Adventure was going to gain her in the World.  
The Fortune-teller was very glad that Chance had so well seconded her Cheats: and all haughty upon this Event, she gave Florange a Check when he came to his Senses again, for that he would not give Credit to the Wonders of her Art Florange would doubtless have asked her Pardon, if he had had the power but to speak but one bare word; but he was still so much afraid, that all that he could do, was to get to a Hackney-Coach that waited for him at the Door. When he was got in he began to breathe, as thinking that the Devil had not so much power over him there. He then promised never to see, as long as he lived, any Fortune-teller: and being got home, he used his Wife quite otherwise than he had done of a long while, as apprehending, that if he should use her ill, the Devil would rise up in her defence, as he had threatened to do.  
After this, Florange stayed still some time at Paris, and having met with Mainville in a Company, he spoke to him as if he had never born him any grudge. Nay, he asked him what was the Cause they did not see one another now; insomuch, that Mainville would have been in a strange Maze, had he been ignorant of the Fortune-teller's Adventure. But knowing what passed at her House, and how much Florange was of a fearful Humour, he knew to what to attribute his Change.  
In the mean while Mainville and the Marchioness were not able to comprehend whom they had the Obligation to of what was fallen out; for no body had ever known any thing of their Concerns, save Grand-Champ and the Damsel I have mentioned: and they knew very well, that neither of them two had revealed their Secret. For the Marchioness had left her Woman at home; and as for Grand-Champ, they could not suspect him, as knowing him long since dead. But whoever it was, they were indebted to, they looked upon it as a great piece of Service: for they began again to see one another, and that too without Florange's finding fault. Mainville was not however wanting to have some Precaution, when he was with the Marchioness, as knowing there is nothing so easy to kindle anew as the Suspicions of a jealous Person.  
Thus they lived in some sort of repose for a time: But as Prudence is very rare in strong Passions, these Lovers forgot that Florange was naturally prone to Jealousy, and that the least thing was capable of giving him Umbrage. They were ever by one another, not being able to remain a moment without interchanging of Words: and when Chance separated them, one might in their Faces read a certain Grief, as made those judge that had the least Concern in it, that they were not in ill Terms with one another. Florange began also to doubt that the false Devil had told him a Lie, when he assured him, that his Wife was honest. The Devils, said he in himself, are Liars, and a Man must be as simple as I to put trust to their Words. Besides there is something in this matter that I do not apprehend: for their business being to molest Mankind, how comes this, if he be a real Devil, to endeavour to cure me of my suspicions? Thou art abused, Florange, added he, and like a fool, fallest into the Trap. Are not thy Eyes surer than all that can be said to thee? And what hast thou to do with the testimony of an Other, when thou thyself dost but too clearly see thy dishonour?  
Thus confirming himself daily more and more in the Opinion, that he had been imposed on, he took somewhat extraordinary measures to shrift into Mainville's and his Wife's Intrigue. He pretended not to take any notice of their fondnesses, but resolved to surprise them, when they least expected it, and to put them so many Questions in one another's Presence, that they should be nonplused. He knew that the motions of the Countenance commonly discover what lies most hid in the Heart: and when one does not find one's Conscience clear, it is an hard matter to keep one's Judgement. Whereupon he one day asked them, when they were in a deep Chat, whether there was not a great deal of Pleasure, in entertaining one's self thus aside with what one loves, adding that they must needs taste this happiness often, since it was but a few days ago that they had thus been together alone. It is easy to imagine the Confusion these Lovers were under at this Discourse; they were in such a Maze they could not give him one bare word of answer. But Florange judging by the state they were in, that his Suspicions were but too well grounded. To what purpose, renewed he, is it for you to use fineness with me? and am not I so clear-sighted, as to know what I ought to believe of it? You love tenderly one another, and I should have but little regard for both, should I oppose so fine an Amity. The coolness he affected in uttering these Words, did so to all intents disorder Mainville and the Marchioness, that they did nothing but gaze upon one another, as if they had complemented one another, who should answer him first. At last, Mainville being confused to the highest degree, endeavoured to undeceive Florange, endeavouring to persuade him, that being so much his Friend, as he was, he could not, without an extreme ingratitude, cast his Eyes upon his Wife. Let's leave our friendship there, answered Florange coldly, and I should be very much too blame, were I contented with your Reasons, since, All dear as I am to you, as you say, my Wife must needs he dearer to you than I am. She has Charms for Men which I have not, and made as she is, she would have reason eo complain, if under the Pretext of our Acquaintance, you refused to love her. And indeed, you cannot put it out of my head, but that you do her Justice. Mainville being no longer able to endure a Conversation that madded him, used then his utmost efforts to insinuate into him, that he had never had any thoughts of the Marchioness: But Florange turning towards her, And Madam, said he to her, will you be as insincere as he, and will you maintain it to my face, that you have been able to be so long exposed to the Cajollaries of a well-bred man, without suffering yourself to be affected. The Marchioness made him answer, that he did her the highest injury, to put such a Question to her: That her Duty did sufficiently inform her, that she ought to love him only, and that he ought not to doubt but that she did all that her Duty directed her. A mere Resvery, Madam, he replied to her, is that same Duty with which your Ladyship pretends to entertain me; and a thousand Women, that are no less honest than your Ladyship, tread it daily under foot; But since you assure me, that it is strong enough, as to hinder you from paying to my Lord of Mainville 's merit what you own it, and that on the other side he vows, that the friendship he has for me, hinders him from paying you what he owes you, you will both do well never to see one another more. And indeed, it would be laying your Reputation too much at stake, Madam, added he, any longer to suffer the Visits of a Man that has not the sense to know your worth. And you, my Lord, said he, addressing his Speech to Mainville, you would do me a kindness, never to set foot more in my house: for I esteem my Wife, and do not love people that slight her so much, or are so insensible, that thus they can resist so many Charms. At the same time he scraped Mainville a long Leg, as much as to say, that it was time for him to be gone, and showing him the Door, he made him apprehend thereby, that he was not of a Humour so easily to be paulmed upon in his Beleif.  
I shall in no wise go about to represent to you in this place, neither Mainville's Amazement, nor the Marchionesse's Confusion. They could hardly imagine what they heard; but however loath they were to obey Florange's Command, they must submit; nay, and without reply. When Mainville was gone, the Marchioness stomacking what had newly happened, and being unable to bear with a separation from her Lover, she began to discharge her Anger upon her Husband. She told him, that his Capriciousness was beyond Example, and that she needed only to blaze about his Carriage, to put him out of repute with all the World. Florange could have answered her, that as he had been out of repute a long while, he had nothing more to manage upon that Point, but continuing in the same manner he began, he made her answer, with a mighty serious look, that he perceived the ingratitude of Women; that he had newly done her a great piece of Service, in ridding her of a Man that was good for nothing; and that nevertheless, instead of thanking him for it, she loaded him with Reproaches.  
After this, the Lady could not expect to see Mainville again at her own House; insomuch, that when they were minded to speak with one another, they were obliged to borrow the House of some she friend. These Precautions rendered their Interviews much seldomer, and by Consequence much more agreeable, because that Difficulty is wont to be a seasoning to Pleasures, though that all People are not pleased with such a Ragoo. It was then a little after Christmas, a time that Merriments and Feast begin at Paris, when a Friend of Florange's having been presented with a Nosegay at a Ball, made him agree, that he should entertain his Lady with the Fiddles. The Lady being informed of it, sent notice to Mainville, that he should not let that Occasion slip, without making advantage on't; insomuch, that he disguised himself, that he might not be known in the Assembly. It was numerous and fine; and as the Marchioness was weary of dancing, she placed herself in a Corner, whither Mainville repaired immediately to entertain her. He would have stayed at her Feet till the Ball had been ended, if a Lady had not come to take him out to dance with her. He could not but out of Civility give her his Hand: But while he danced, another Masquerader took his Place, and began to say such particular things to Madam de Florange, that she was mightily surprised at it. His Garb was that of a Gipsy, which had helped him much to the accosting of her. Madam, said he to her, Ladies are commonly curious, and the Habit I wear, informs you, that telling of Fortunes is my Province. If you doubt it, you need only to give me your Hand, and you will presently perceive that I am no Bungler in my Profession. Thereupon he gave her an Account of Mainville's Amour, from the beginning to the very end, and when it came to the place of the Fortune-teller: It is to me, Madam, added he, that you have the obligation of being freed from that ill step. I had some Relation to that Woman, which obliged me to go often to her house, and I came thither pretty seasonably to do you Service. After he had given her this Account, he left her, without being to be persuaded to make himself known, though she pressed him very much. But as he was going his ways, Florange, who had observed his Conversation with his Wife, and who took him for Mainville, by reason he had something of his Air, and of his Shape, stopped him by the Arm, just when he was at the bottom of the Staircase, and told him, that he had something to say to him. The Masque stayed at these Words, and Florange seeing that he was just ready to hear him. I thought, said he to him, that after having admonished thee, never to see my Wife more, thou wouldst never have had the audaciousness to discourse her, and particularly in my sight. But by what I perceive, thou makest no account of what is said to thee, since to the prejudice of my Prohibition, thou hast been newly talking to her. Now for once and all, either let this not happen again, or I shall use such means as shall make you repent you did not take my Advice.  
The Masque, that did not expect such a Compliment, was very much surprised at it; but having Reasons not to answer so keenly as he was talked to: I know not, he replied, what you mean by this Discourse, and you certainly take me for an other, having never spoke with your Lady before to day. Wherefore you could not give me Instances of your jealousy, as you tell me. But since I now know that makes you uneasy, I assure you, that for fear of disturbing your repose, I shall carefully avoid meeting her, being very willing thereby to let you see, that I shall ever Court the Occasions of obliging you.  
Nothing could be more handsome than this Answer. But Florange being of a Character to be furious, when one crept before him, it augmented his Audaciousness; insomuch, that speaking a Language still more arrogant than the former, he told the Masque, That Excuses were but slight Reparations, when the Offences were real. That thus he meant to chastise him for his imprudence, as he deserved. And at the same time laying his Hand to his Sword, he obliged the Masque, in his own Defence, to take one his Footman carried for him. Perchance Florange would then have been glad he had not begun the Quarrel; but seeing that the Masque did but parry, without making any Thrust at him, it encouraged him so as to rush on upon him, and pushing blindly on, he ran himself upon the other's Sword. However, the Masque received at the same time a Thrust quite through the Body, which made him fall stone dead on the other side.  
The noise they had made in quarrelling, had made the People run to part them; and Florange's Friends seeing him all covered with Blood, and the Masque lying in the Dust, asked him the Occasion of their Quarrel. It is my Wife, answered he them, who is the Occasion of my Death. Hold me up, I conjure you; for I have but one moment more to live. But if any of you would oblige me, let him go tell her, that in shedding my own Blood, I have at least the Comfort of having taken Mainville 's Life away. At these Words the Rumour ran immediately through the whole Assembly, that Mainville was newly killed; and this News extraordinarily afflicted the Marchioness. She gave deep Sighs, and without minding in that moment either her Husband's Wound, or all that People could say of her Conduct, she ran where the Dead Man lay, to see if her misfortune was without Remedy. As soon as she had cast her Eyes upon his , she presently perceived they had given her a  Alarm; and studying to repair what she had newly done, she went to Florange, and made his Friends believe, that the Tears she shed were only on his account.  
However, she gave her Woman Order, under hand, to inquire who the Dead Man was; and this Damsel being curious enough of herself, resolved to use her utmost Care. But this needed no great trouble; for as soon as the Deceased's Mask was taken off, all the Servants of the House knew it to be Grand Champ; and she herself going near the Body, quickly perceived that they were in the right. For some time she could hardly believe what she saw, as being prepossessed with his Death, upon the Account that had been given her herself in the Village before mentioned: But you must know, that she had been misinformed, because at the time they imagined he had breathed his last, he was only fallen into a Lethargy, occasioned by the loss of Blood, and which he recovered from some Hours after.  
As the Marchioness had been well pleased to hear of Grand-Champ's Death, instead of that of Mainville, it put her Husband into an incredible Despondency. For besides the Grief he had to know his Wife's Lover still in a Condition of disturbing his Rest, he was out of Countenance for having wrongfully shown his Jealousy in such good Company: and what is more, he was not without Regret for having killed the unfortunate Grand-Champ. But what disquieted him more than all this, is, that the Surgeons durst not ascertain he would escape from his Wound, as finding it very dangerous. While he lay a curing his Friends used their Interest to obtain his Pardon; and Grand Champ, having no body to revenge his Memory, they easily effected their Business. After this Florange recovered by little and little, and seeing himself in perfect Health, he used his utmost endeavour to bring his Cause to a Trial, that so he might return into the Country, where he fancied he should live more at quiet than at Paris.  
When he was in hopes of having it brought to Trial, the Defendants, who had not over good Right, and who found an Advantage of deferring the Verdict, bethought themselves of presenting a Request to the Council, by which they required to have the Cause left to an other Parliament than that of Paris, alleging, that Florange and his Wife had therein a World of Relations upon the Bench. The Affair being examined in full Council, Florange's Parties obtained what they demanded, and were referred to Roven.  
This Decree was extreme cruel to Mainville and the Marchioness, who notwithstanding Florange's Prohibitions and Precautions, did nevertheless continue to see one another. They knew Paris to be the only place where Intrigues could be concealed, and that in the other Towns, however great they might be, one remains exposed to the Censure of all People; a Man of Quality especially not being able to take a step without furnishing matter for talk. Nevertheless having in their Interviews found Pleasures they could neither of them renounce, without doing a great Violence upon themselves, they contrived before they parted, how to see one another at Roven; and no sooner was Florange there, but Mainville came thither incognito.  
A little before, he had, with his Credit, served a Precedent of that Parliament, who had had a great Concern at Court; insomuch, that not doubting of his Acknowledgement, he went and alighted at his House. There, without scruple, he declared to him what brought him to Roven, and that he had occasion for his Service. A thousand Persons in this President's Circumstances, would have put on their Gravity, and have likewise told him without scruple, that he might seek out an other Confident; but this Precedent being very willing to make Returns for the Obligation he had to him, and besides, being no Enemy to Nature, he made him answer, that he might dispose of him, of his House, and of all he had in his power. I'll not have so much, said Mainville to him; and all I require of you, is to lend me one of your Coaches, when I go abroad with a Parliament-Robes. For when I go to my Mictresses' House, I mean to be taken for you; and all that we are to have a care of, is, that it be not known that I am here. Thus you must make me pass in your own House, for one of your own Relations; and if People wonder that I make no Visits in the Town, you may say, that I am sick. If this was the only thing to be remedied, answered the Precedent, the thing would be very easy. I know already, without your needing to speak to me of it, that you have People here in whom you confide; and I may say the same thing of mine, whom I need only to forbid speaking, that you were at my House, to bind them to silence. But the Difficulty that I find herein is, that you would, methinks, pay a Visit to the Marchioness under my Name, and that when you are at her House, it should be thought to be me. Right, Mainville repartyed, And this is just what I desire: And if I can deceive the Public, I will take my time so well, as never to go to her Lodgings but when her Husband is abroad. I agree to't, the Precedent answered; but you are going to set me at odds with my Wife. She is jealous to the utmost extremity; and as soon as she shall be persuaded, like others, that I visit Madam de Florange, I am very much afraid I shall have little quiet at home. Let's lodge our Secret with her, answered Mainville then: 'Tis the means of being all our Safeties. I have thought of that, replied the Precedent; but two things hindered me, one is, that she can only conceal what she does not know; the other, that it would not be handsome for me to engage her in this Intrigue. Thus it is much better to undergo her Jealousy.  
Mainville showed himself Civil, by expressing, that he would not purchase his own Content at the expense of his Friend's. But the Precedent made him answer. That nothing could afford him more Joy, than the doing of him Service; and though he had spoke to him of his Wife's Humour, it was not to excuse himself from the Business, but to take their measures so well, that they might keep their Concerns secret. A Lover is easy to persuade, when it tends to his satisfaction. Thus Mainville making but mean efforts to combat the President's Civility, consented to all he required. He then caused a Coachman and two Lackeys, to be dressed up in the President's Colours; and when he went abroad, not a Person, but took him for the Precedent, by reason of his Disguise. And indeed, all People saluted him in the Streets, principally those that had any Process, pretending he would have some regard to their Civility, when he should come to try it. However, for the better deceiving of them, he took care to conceal his Face with his Handkerchief, so as that not any person living took notice of the Cheat; so much the more, as that he never went to the Marchionesses House, save when her Husband was gone to solicit his Judges, which she failed not of giving him immediate notice of, that so they might not lose the occasion of seeing one another.  
This he sped in for five or six times, without Fortune's playing him any ill Prank; but Florange's Parties being alarumed at these frequent Visits, desired the Precedent thereupon, to decline being of their Judges, giving him to understand, that visiting Madam the Florange so often as he did, he could not assist at the Trial of their Suit, without giving them a great Suspicion. The Precedent could easily have undeceived them if he would, but that not being to be done, without discovering his Friend's Secret, he sought out sorry Excuses for the Visits those Parties fancied he made to the Marchioness. Thus he replied upon them, that they were very much in the wrong, in suspecting him of any partiality: That the seeing of a Woman did not render him the less honest man: That every Individual had his Conscience to keep: That it was not a sufficient Reason against his being a Judge at their Trial: and that on the contrary, he was resolved to be on the Bench, to show how wrongfully they were alarumed. He thought thereby to serve Mainville, who had desired him to embrace Florange's Interests as his own. But these Parties thinking themselves lost without Remedy, after this Declaration, contrived to blaze about, in such manner, the President's and Marchionesses Intrigue, as to oblige him to be the first to draw off himself. They had heard since they were in the Town, that the Precedents Wife was extremely jealous, and that upon the least appearance of her Husband's Infidelity, she was wont to make an horrible bustle. Thus they fancied, that they needed only to intimate the President's Visits to her under hand, and that after this the Intrigue he had with the Marchioness would quickly be public.  
Having formed this Resolution, they signified to the President's Lady what they were desirous she should know: and this News made her almost mad. She immediately loaded her Husband with a thousand Reproaches for this new Inclination, and would needs oblige him to promise her never to go more to her Lodgings. She's a professed Gossip, said she to him, and your frequenting of her Company is only to abuse me. The Precedent was at a very great loss how to quiet this Woman, whom he knew hard to be governed upon that Article. He endeavoured to persuade her, that he saw Madam the Florange only out of respect; and that if her Concerns had not been recommended to him by all her Friends, he would pay her no more Visits. But his Lady falling into a Rage, and so much the more, as that he would not promise her to see her no more, she resolved to manifest her Jealousy in such manner, as that Madam de Florange should be obliged to forbid him her House.  
While that the President's Lady was thus preparing to disturb these Lovers Repose, Fortune, that had spared them since they had been at Roven, contrived to play them a Prank, which they had all the trouble imaginable to free themselves from. One Day that Florange had chosen to see his Judges, he was taken with an Indisposition on the Way, that obliged him to return home sooner than he expected. He found the President's Coach at his Door, and was mightily pleased with the Honour he did him of coming to see his Wife, as judging thence he would do his best for him, when his Cause came to a Trial. Wherefore he must needs pay him his Acknowledgements: But at his entrance into the Marchionesses Chamber, he was much surprised to find a man before her upon his Knees. The Marchioness seeing him come in, was still more surprised than he: for it was Mainville, who in the President's Robes, made her a thousand amorous Protestations. Florange had luckily made a stop one moment, to consider upon the manner of his Behaviour in so extraordinary an occasion. The Marchioness employed that small time to great advantage: For judging that Florange could not have seen Mainville, his Back being towards him. Ah, my Lord, said she to her Lover, all my Remedies are useless, and you'll cover me all with Blood, unless you put your Handkerchief before your Nose. Mainville, who had an infinite stock of Wit, apprehended by these Words, that Florange must needs be behind him, and seconding the Marchionesses Artifice, he took an Handkerchief out of her Hands, with which she had rubbed herself, and which luckily for them, was all over Blood, as having herself bled at the Nose but a moment before. Then Mainville covered his Face with it; and Florange seeing him in this Condition, was not sorry that he was so moderate, as thinking he had been unseasonably alarumed. Thus instead of quarrelling him, as he had resolved to do a moment before, he made him a Compliment upon his feigned Indisposition, bidding his Wife send for a clean Handkerchief, and fair Water, to wash his Face.  
Mainville was in some sort of Security, through the Marchionesses Artifice: but seeing that Florange was so very officious to serve him against his Will, he knew not yet how he should get off from this Affair, when Fortune freed him by a Circumstance that in all likelihood should have ruined him. The President's Lady passed through the Street, and seeing her Husband's Coach at the Marchioness de Florange's Door, she immediately resolved to go in, her Jealousy inspiring her with a thousand extravagant things. Madam de Florange knew her not; but seeing an handsome Woman come into her Room, and who seemed a Person of Quality, she went towards her, to pay her her Civilities. The President's Lady stepped back, with a scornful look, and then using her Tongue; You ought, Madam, to be satisfied, said she to her, with caressing my Husband, without loading me with your fondnesses. The Traitor is oftener with you than with me; and I design henceforward to send all those that have to do with him, to your House. After this, she fell to loading Mainville with a thousand Reproaches, taking him for her Husband, as being deceived by his Garb and Wigg, that was of the President's Colour.  
However, Mainville said not one word; which made the Lady the more believe it to be the Precedent, and that finding himself culpable, he durst say nothing in his own excuse. Thus his Silence was a new Crime for him: She continued upon the same Tone; and after she had pretty well discharged her Choler, she took him by the Gown; saying, she would rather stay there as long as she lived, than go away without him. Mainville, who would willingly have given all things to have been away from thence, made use of this occasion to be gone; and being entered with her into his Coach, he on the way, underwent all that a Woman can say that thinks herself slighted. Thou dost well to hid thyself, thou Cheat, said she to him: But that Handkerchief thou hold'st before thy face, does not hid from me the Motions of thy Heart. I know whom thou addressest thy Vows to; and all the Caresses thou sometimes makest me, are only for the better deceiving me. In saying this, she snatched his Handkerchief from off his Nose: But her Surprise passed beyond all that I can say, when instead of her Husband she saw a man she did not know. For out of certain Considerations, the Precedent had not let her see Mainville, though he stayed in his House; and when she had asked him the Reason of it, he had stopped her mouth, by telling her, that there were certain things which Women ought not to know. In the mean while, Mainville's Disorder was no less in this Occasion, than that of the President's Lady; but being sooner recollected, Madam, said he to her, I know that this Adventure surprises you: I beseecb you not to let it be known, and you will herein oblige a Man of Quality, who is my Lord, your Husband's friend, and a peculiar Servant of all that regards him. I would now tell your Ladyship, continued he, what has induced me to disguise myself as I am; but it is better that you be informed of all from his own Mouth, because, that not having the Honour to be known by you, all would be suspicious I might say to your Ladyship.  
In the mean while, the Coach jogged on, and they at length got home, without any other illustration than this. The Precedent was then in the Court of his House. He was strangely amazed to see Mainville with his Wife; and making up to them, to know how this came to pass, he was still in a greater maze, when Mainville had told him aside, all that had befallen him. This is a bad Business, said the Precedent to him; and knowing my Wife's Humour, she cannot fail of blabbing it abroad. However, to top upon her, he told her, that Mainville was a man of Quality, who was hampered in great troubles; and that it imported his Life, that People should not know of his being in Town: That therefore he besought her not to say the least of it to any Body: and that this was the Reason that had induced him to give him a Retreat at his House, without telling her of it. You think me but an ill Keeper of Secrets, Sir, said his Wife to him, as already suspecting the mystery; and all People have not so bad an Opinion of Women as you, since that this Gentleman himself does not conceal himself from Madam de Florange. Madam de Florange, the Precedent replied to her, is a Relation of his, and partakes in all that can befall him; insomuch, that she will be cautious of discovering where he is. The President's Lady, who was as malicious as any body living, and who had plainly observed how Mainville had hid himself from the Husband. I believe, she answered the Precedent, that this Lady has still more Interest than you say, in keeping your Friend's Concerns secret; but I very much doubt whether the Marquis de Florange has the same Regards for him. At these Words she left them both there; and the Precedent knowing the spightfulness of his Wife, advised Mainville to leave the Town, for fear her Twattle being told again to Florange, he might suspect the Truth.  
Mainville, notwithstanding the Pleasure he took in seeing his Mistress, followed his Friend's Advice, and departed Roven. The Campaign began shortly after, which solaced him for this Adventure, as finding in the Employs of War wherewith to make him forget for a while the Secrets of Love.  
THE END.