Chap. VI The Novel of the Impertinent Curiosity
‘In Florence, a rich and celebrated city of Italy, situated in the province called Tuscany, lived Anselmo and Lothario, two wealthy and noble cavaliers, so strictly united in the bands of amity, that every body who knew them, called them by way of excellence and epithet, the Two Friends; and, indeed, being both batchelors, and their age and education so much alike, it was not to be wondered at if a reciprocal affection sprung up between them; true it is, Anselmo was rather more addicted to amorous pastime than Lothario, whose chief delight was in hunting; yet, upon occasion, Anselmo could quit his own amusements to pursue those of his friend; and Lothario could postpone his favourite diversion, in order to practise that of Anselmo; in this manner their inclinations proceeded so mutually, that no clock ever went with more regularity. Anselmo happened to fall desperately in love with a young lady of rank and beauty in the same city, descended from such a noble family, and so amiable in herself, that he determined, with the approbation of his friend, without which he did nothing, to demand her of her parents in marriage; and accordingly put his resolution in practice. Lothario was intrusted with the message, and concluded the affair so much to the satisfaction of his friends, that in a very little time Anselmo saw himself in possession of his heart’s desire; and Camilla thought herself so happy in having obtained such a husband, that she was incessant in her acknowledgments to Heaven and Lothario, by whose mediation her happiness was effected.
‘During the first two days after marriage, which are commonly spent in feasting and mirth, Lothario, as usual, frequented the house of his friend, with a view of honouring his nuptials, and endeavouring, as much as in him lay, to promote the joy and festivity attending all such occasions; but the wedding being over, and the frequency of visits and congratulations abated, he began carefully and gradually to absent himself from Anselmo’s house, thinking, as every prudent person would naturally conclude, that a man ought not to visit and frequent the house of a friend after he is married, in the same manner as he had practised while he was single; for, though suspicion should never find harbour with true and virtuous friendship, yet the honour of a married man is so delicate, as to be thought subject to injury, not only from a friend, but even from a brother. Anselmo perceived Lothario’s remissness, and complained of it loudly; saying, that if he had thought his marriage would have impaired their former correspondence, he never would have altered his condition; and begged, that as by the mutual friendship which inspired them while he was single, they had acquired such an agreeable title as that of the Two Friends, he would not now suffer that endearing and celebrated name to be lost, by a scrupulous adherence to mere form and punctilio. He therefore entreated him, if he might be allowed to use the expression, to be master of his house, and to come in and go out as formerly, assuring him that the inclinations of Camilla, in that respect, were exactly conformable to his own; and that knowing the perfect friendship which subsisted between them, she was extremely mortified at his late shyness.
‘To these and many other arguments used by Anselmo, to persuade his friend to frequent his house as usual, Lothario answered with such prudence, force, and discernment, that the other was convinced of his discreet conduct; and it was agreed betwixt them, that Lothario should dine with him twice a week, besides holidays; but, notwithstanding this agreement, he resolved to comply with it no farther than he should see convenient for the honour of Anselmo, which was dearer to him than his own. He said, and his observation was just, that a man on whom Heaven hath bestowed a beautiful wife, should be as cautious of the men he brings home to his house, as careful in observing the female friends with whom his spouse converses abroad; for that which cannot be performed nor concerted in the street or the church, or at public shows and diversions, with which a husband must sometimes indulge his wife, may be easily transacted in the house of a female friend or relation, in whom his chief confidence is reposed. Wherefore, Lothario observed, that every married man had occasion for some friend to apprize him of any omission in her conduct; for it often happens that he is too much in love with his wife, to observe, or too much afraid of offending her, to prescribe limits to her behaviour, in those things, the following or eschewing of which may tend to his honour or reproach, whereas that inconvenience might be easily amended by the advice of a friend. But where shall we find such a zealous, discreet, trusty friend, as is here required? I really know not, except in Lothario himself, who, consulting the honour of Anselmo, with the utmost care and circumspection, was at great pains to contract, abridge, and diminish, the number of the days on which he had agreed to frequent his house; that the idle vulgar, and prying eyes of malice, might not indulge their love of slander, when they perceived a genteel young man of such birth, fortune, and accomplishments as he knew himself possessed of, go into the house of such a celebrated beauty as Camilla; for, although his virtue and honour might be a sufficient check, to the most malevolent tongue, he would not expose his own character, or that of his friend, to the smallest censure; and therefore employed the greatest part of those days on which he had agreed to visit Anselmo, in such things as he pretended were indispensible; so that when they were present, a great deal of time was consumed by the complaints of the one, and excuses of the other. One day, however, as they were walking through a meadow, near the suburbs of the city, Anselmo addressed himself to Lothario in these terms.
‘“You believe, my friend Lothario, that I can never be thankful enough to Heaven for the blessings I enjoy, not only in the most indulgent parents, and in the abundance of those things which are called the goods of nature and fortune, but also in a friend like you, and a wife like Camilla, two pledges which I esteem, if not as highly as I ought, at least as much as I can. Yet, though I possess all those benefits which usually constitute the happiness of mankind, I find myself one of the most disgusted and discontented men alive. I have been for these many days so harrassed and fatigued with such an odd unaccountable desire, that I cannot help being amazed at my infatuation, for which I often blame and rebuke myself, endeavouring to suppress and conceal it from my own reflection; but I find it as impossible to keep the secret, as if I had industriously published it to the whole world, and since it must actually be disclosed to somebody, I would have it deposited in the most secret archives of your heart, in full confidence, that by the diligence which you as a trusty friend will exert in my behalf, when you know it, I shall soon see myself delivered from that anxiety to which it hath reduced me, and by your assiduity be raised to a pitch of joy equal to the degree of vexation which my own folly hath intailed upon me.”
‘Lothario was astonished at this discourse of Anselmo, as he could not comprehend the meaning of such a long preface and preamble, and endeavoured, by revolving every thing in his imagination, to find out what this desire could be, that preyed so much upon the spirits of his friend; but, finding himself always wide of the mark, he was willing to ease himself immediately of the excessive pain his suspence occasioned; and with this view told Anselmo, that he did a manifest injury to the warmth of his friendship, in going about the bush, seeking indirect methods to impart his most secret thoughts, since he was well assured that he might entirely depend upon him, either for advice to suppress, or assistance to support them. “I am well convinced of the truth of what you say,” answered Anselmo, “and in that confidence will tell you, my friend, that the desire with which I am possessed, is to be certain, whether or not my wife Camilla is as virtuous and perfect as I believe her to be; and this truth I shall never be fully persuaded of, until the perfection of her nature appear upon trial, as pure gold is proved by fire; for it is my opinion, that there is no woman virtuous, but in proportion to the solicitation she hath withstood; and that she only is chaste, who hath not yielded to the promises, presents, tears, and continual importunities of persevering lovers. And pray where is the merit of a woman’s being chaste, when nobody ever courted her to be otherwise? what wonder that she should be reserved and cautious, who has no opportunity of indulging loose inclinations, and who knows her husband would immediately put her to death should he once catch her tripping? Wherefore I can never entertain the same degree of esteem for a woman who is chaste out of fear, or want of opportunity, as I would for her who hath triumphed over perseverance of solicitation; so that for these, and many other reasons I could urge to sanction and enforce my opinion, I desire that my wife Camilla may undergo the test, and be refined in the fire of importunate addresses, by one possessed of sufficient accomplishments to inspire a woman with love; and if she comes off, as I believe she will, victorious in the trial, I shall think my own happiness unparalleled. I shall then be able to say that my wishes are fulfilled, and that she hath fallen to my lot, of whom the wise man saith, ‘Who hath found her?’ And even if the contrary of what I expect should happen, the satisfaction of seeing my opinion confirmed, will help me to bear with patience that which would otherwise prove such a costly experiment. Supposing, then, that nothing you can say, in opposition to this desire of mine, can avail in diverting me from my purpose, I expect and entreat that you, my friend Lothario, will condescend to be the instrument with which I execute this work of my inclination. I will give you proper opportunities, and supply you with every thing I see necessary for soliciting a woman of virtue, honour, and disinterested reserve; and what among other things induces me to intrust you with this enterprize, is the consideration, that should Camilla’s scruples be overcome, you will not pursue your conquest to the last circumstance of rigour, but only suppose that done, which, for good reason, ought to remain undone; so that I shall be injured by her inclination alone, and my wrongs lie buried in the virtue of your silence, which I know, in whatever concerns my welfare, will be eternal as that of death. Wherefore, if you would have me enjoy what deserves to be called life, you will forthwith undertake this amorous contest, not with lukewarmness and languor, but with that eagerness and diligence which corresponds with my wish, and the confidence in which I am secured by your friendship.”
‘Such was the discourse of Anselmo; to which Lothario listened so attentively, that except what he is already said to have uttered, he did not open his lips, until his friend had finished his proposal: but finding he had nothing more to alledge, after having for some time gazed upon him as an object hitherto unseen, that inspired him with astonishment and surprize, “I cannot be persuaded, Anselmo,” said he, “but what you have said was spoke in jest; for, had I thought you in earnest, I should not have suffered you to proceed so far; but, by refusing to listen, have prevented such a long harangue. Without doubt, you must either mistake my disposition, or I be utterly unacquainted with yours; and yet I know you to be Anselmo, and you must be sensible that I am Lothario; the misfortune is, I no longer find you the same Anselmo you was wont to be, nor do I appear to you the same Lothario as before; your discourse favours not of that Anselmo who was my friend, nor is what you ask a thing to be demanded of that Lothario who shared your confidence. Good men, as a certain poet observes, may try and avail themselves of their friends, usque ad aras; I mean, not presume upon their friendship, in things contrary to the decrees of Heaven. Now, if a heathen entertained such ideas of friendship, how much more should they be cherished by a Christian, who knows, that no human affection ought to interfere with our love to God; and, when a person stretches his connections so far as to lay aside all respect for Heaven, in order to manifest his regard for a friend, he ought not to be swayed by trifles or matters of small consequence, but by those things only on which the life and honour of a friend depend. Tell me then, Anselmo, which of these is in danger, before I venture to gratify your wish, by complying with the detestable proposal you have made? Surely, neither; on the contrary, if I conceive you aright, you are desirous that I should indefatigably endeavour to deprive you, and myself also, of that very life and honour which it is my duty to preserve; for if I rob you of honour, I rob you of life; since a man without honour, is worse than dead, and I being the instrument, as you desire I should be, that entails such a curse upon you, shall not I be dishonoured, and of consequence dead to all enjoyment and fame. Listen with patience, my friend Anselmo, and make no answer until I shall have done with imparting the suggestions of my mind, concerning the strange proposal you have made; for there will be time enough for you to reply, and me to listen in my turn.”—“With all my heart,” cried Anselmo; “you may speak as long as you please.”
‘Accordingly, Lothario proceeded, saying, “In my opinion, Anselmo, your disposition is at present like that of the Moors, who will not suffer themselves to be convicted of the errors of their sect, by quotations from the Holy Scripture, nor with arguments founded on speculation, or the articles of faith; but must be confuted or convinced by examples that are palpable, easy, familiar, and subject to the certainty of mathematical demonstration; for instance, if from equal parts, we take equal parts, those that remain are equal. And if they do not understand this proposition verbally, as is frequently the case, it must be explained and set before their eyes by manual operation, which is also insufficient to persuade them of the truth of our holy religion. The self-same method must I practise with you, whole desire deviates so far from every thing that bears the least shadow of reason, that I should look upon it as time misspent, to endeavour to convince you of your folly, which is the only name your intention seems to deserve. Nay, I am even tempted to leave you in your extravagancy, as a punishment for your preposterous desire; but I am prevented from using such rigour by my friendship, which will not permit me to desert you in such manifest danger of perdition. But, to make this affair still more plain, tell me, Anselmo, did not you desire me to solicit one that was reserved, seduce one that was chaste, make presents to one that was disinterested, and assiduously court one that was wise? Yes, such was your demand. If you are apprized, then, of the reserve, virtue, disinterestedness, and prudence of your wife, pray what is your aim? If you believe that she will triumph over all my assaults, as undoubtedly she will, what fairer titles can you bestow upon her, than those she possesses already? or how will she be more perfect after that trial, than she is at present? You either do not believe she is so virtuous as you have represented her, or know not the nature of your demand. If you think she is not so chaste as you have described her, you should not hazard the trial; but rather, according to the dictates of your own prudence, treat her as a vicious woman: if you are satisfied of her virtue, it would be altogether impertinent to make trial of that truth, which, from the test, can acquire no additional esteem. From whence we may reasonably conclude, that for men to execute designs which are clearly productive of more hurt than benefit, is the province of madness and temerity; especially, when they are not incited or compelled to these designs by any sort of consideration; but, on the contrary, may at a greater distance perceive the manifest madness of their intention. Difficulties are undertaken, either for the sake of God, of this world, or of both. The first are incurred by holy men, who live the life of angels here on earth; the second, by those who traverse the boundless ocean, visiting such a diversity of climates and nations, with a view of acquiring what are called the goods of fortune; and such undertakings as equally regard God and man, fall to the share of those valiant soldiers, who no sooner behold, in the wall of an adverse city, a breach, though no bigger than that which is made by a single cannon ball, than laying aside all fear, and overlooking with unconcern the manifest danger that menaces them, winged with desire of signalizing their valour in behalf of their king, country, and religion, throw themselves, with the utmost intrepidity, into the midst of a thousand deaths that oppose and await them. These are the enterprizes which are generally undertaken, and though full of peril and inconvenience, attended with glory, honour, and advantage; but that which you have planned, and purpose to put in execution, neither tends to your acquiring the approbation of God, the goods of fortune, nor the applause of mankind; for, granting that the experiment should succeed to your wish, it will make you neither more happy, rich, or respected than you are; and should it turn out contrary to your expectation, you will find yourself the most miserable of all mortals. It will then give you little ease to reflect, that your misfortune is unknown; for, the bare knowing it yourself, will be sufficient to plunge you in affliction and despair. As a confirmation of this truth, you must give me leave to repeat the following stanza, written by the celebrated poet Lewis Tansilo, at the end of the first part of the tears of St. Peter.
‘“When Peter saw the approach of rosy morn,
His soul with sorrow and remorse was torn;
For, though from ev’ry mortal eye conceal’d,
The guilt to his own bosom stood reveal’d:
The candid breast will self-accusing, own
Each conscious fault, though to the world unknown,
Nor will th’ offender ’scape internal shame,
Tho’ unimpeach’d by justice or by fame.”
‘“Wherefore, secresy will never assuage your grief; but, on the contrary, you will incessantly weep, not tears from your eyes, but drops of blood from your heart, like that simple doctor, whom our poet mentions93, who made trial of the vessel, which the prudent Rinaldo, with more discretion, refused to touch; and although this be a poetical fiction, it nevertheless contains a well couched moral, worthy of notice, study and imitation; especially, as what I am going to say, will, I hope, bring you to a due sense of the great error you want to commit.
‘“Tell me, Anselmo, if Heaven or good fortune had made you master and lawful possessor of an exquisite diamond, the brilliancy of which was admired by all the lapidaries who had seen it, and unanimously allowed to be the most perfect of its kind; an opinion, which, as you knew nothing to the contrary, was exactly conformable to your own; would it be wise or pardonable in you, to put that jewel betwixt an anvil and a hammer, and by mere dint of blows and strength of arm, try if it was as hard and perfect as it had been pronounced? for, supposing that the diamond should resist the force of this foolish experiment, it would thereby acquire no addition of value or fame; and, if it should be broke to pieces, a thing that might easily happen, would not all be lost? Yes, for certain; and the owner be universally deemed a fool. Consider, then, my friend, that Camilla is an exquisite diamond, not only in your estimation, but in that of every one who knows her; and it would be highly unreasonable to expose her to the least possibility of being broke; for, even should she remain intire, her reputation will receive no increase; but, should she fail in the trial, reflect upon what you must feel, and the reason you will then have to complain of yourself, for having been the fatal cause of her perdition and your own despair. Consider, that no jewel upon earth is comparable to a woman of virtue and honour; and, that the honour of the sex consists in the fair characters they maintain. Since, therefore, the reputation of your wife is already as high as it possibly can be, why would you bring this truth into question? Remember, my friend, that woman is an imperfect creature; and that, far from laying blocks in her way, over which she might stumble and fall, we ought to remove them with care, and clear her paths from all obstructions, that she may, without trouble, proceed smoothly, in attaining to that perfection which she may still want, namely, immaculate virtue. We are informed by naturalists, that the ermin is a little animal, covered with a furr of excessive whiteness, and that the hunters use this artifice to catch it: being well acquainted with the places through which it chuses to pass in its flight, they daub them all over with mud, and as soon as they get sight of the creature, drive it directly thither. The ermin finding himself thus barricadoed, stands still, and is taken; chusing captivity, rather than, by passing through the filth, to stain and sully the whiteness of its furr, which it prizes above liberty, and even life itself. A chaste and virtuous wife is like the ermin, her character being more pure and white than drifted snow; but he, who would guard and preserve it, must use a method quite different from that which is practised upon the little animal, and beware of clogging her way with the mud of entertainments, and the addresses of importunate lovers; lest, perhaps, (nay, without a perhaps) she should not possess such virtue and resolution as are sufficient of themselves to surmount those obstructions. It is therefore necessary to remove them, and place before her the purity of virtue, and the beauty of an unblemished reputation. A virtuous woman also resembles a bright transparent mirror, which is liable to be stained and obscured by the breath of those who approach too near it. A virtuous woman, like relicks, ought to be adored at a distance. She ought to be preserved and esteemed as a beautiful garden, full of flowers and roses, the owner of which will suffer nobody to handle them or pass through it, permitting them only to enjoy its fragrance and beauty afar off, through the iron rails that surround it. In fine, I will repeat a few verses that I just now recollect, from a modern comedy, because they seem to have been composed upon the very subject of our present discourse. A sage old man advising his friend, who is blessed with a handsome daughter, to lock her up, and watch over her with the utmost vigilance and care, among other reasons, cautions him with these—
I.
“Woman is form’d of brittle ware;
Then, wherefore rashly seek to know
What force, unbroken, she will bear,
And strike, perhaps, some fatal blow.
II.
“Though easily to fragments tore,
’Twere equally absurd and vain,
To dash in pieces on the floor,
What never can be join’d again.
III.
“This maxim, then, by facts assur’d,
Should henceforth be espous’d by all;
Where’er a Danæ lies immur’d,
The tempting show’r of gold will fall.”
‘“All that I have hitherto suggested, Anselmo, regards yourself; and now it is but reasonable you should hear something that concerns me; and if I should be prolix in my observations, you must excuse me, because it is absolutely necessary to expatiate on the subject, in order to extricate you from the labyrinth in which you are involved, and from which you desire to be disengaged by my assistance. You consider me as a friend, and yet seek to deprive me of my honour; a desire opposite to all friendship or regard; nay, even endeavour to make me rob you of your own. That you want to destroy mine, is plain; for Camilla, finding herself exposed to my solicitations, as you desire, will certainly look upon me as a man void of all principle and honour; because I attempt to succeed in a design so contrary to the dignity of my own character, and the friendship subsisting between us. That you desire I should rob you of yours, is not to be doubted; because, Camilla, seeing herself importuned by my addresses, will think I must have observed some levity in her conduct, which hath encouraged me to disclose my vicious inclinations, and think herself dishonoured accordingly; so that you will be as much concerned in her dishonour, as if it was your own. Hence springs the common observation, that the husband of a lewd woman, though he neither knows, nor hath given the least occasion for the misconduct of his wife, and though his misfortune was neither owing to his want of prudence or care, is, notwithstanding, pointed at, and distinguished by a name of scandal and reproach; being looked upon, by those who know the frailty of his wife, with an eye of disdain, instead of compassion, which he certainly deserves, as his disgrace proceeds not from any fault of his, but from the loose inclinations of his worthless spouse. I will now explain the reason, why the husband of a bad woman is justly dishonoured, though he neither knows, nor hath been in any shape accessary to her backslidings; and you must hear me with patience, because my remarks will, I hope, redound to your own advantage.
‘“When God created our first parent in the terrestrial paradise, we are told, by the holy Scripture, that he was thrown into a deep sleep, during which, the Almighty took a rib from his left side, and of this Eve being formed, Adam no sooner awoke and beheld her, than he cried, ‘This creature is flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone.’ Nay, God himself pronounced, ‘For this shall a man leave father and mother, and they two shall be one flesh.’ Then was instituted the divine sacrament of marriage, consisting of such ties as death alone can unbind; and endowed with such miraculous virtue and power, as to unite two different persons in one flesh; nay, what is still more wonderful, to combine two souls, so as to produce but one will; provided the union be happily effected. From hence it follows, that the flesh of the wife being the same with that of the husband, whatever stains or blemishes are imbibed by the first, must equally affect the other, although, as I have already observed, he is in no manner accessary to the misfortune. Wherefore, as the whole person is affected by the pain of the foot or any other member of the human body; and the head, though no way concerned in the cause, be a fellow-sufferer with the ancle when it is hurt; by the same rule, an husband, being a part of the same whole, must bear a share of his wife’s dishonour; for, as all the honours and disgraces of this life proceed from flesh and blood; the infamy of a vicious woman, being of the same origin, must be shared by her husband, who ought to be looked upon as a dishonoured person, though he be utterly ignorant of the guilt. Reflect, therefore, Anselmo, on the danger into which you bring yourself, by seeking to disturb the peace and tranquillity of your virtuous wife. Reflect upon the vanity and impertinence of that curiosity, which prompts you to awaken and stir up those humours, that now lie tamed and quiet in the bosom of your chaste spouse. Consider, that in this rash adventure, your gain must be very small, but your loss may be so great, that I leave it unmentioned, because I want words to express its estimation. On the whole, if what I have said be insufficient to divert you from your mischievous design, I desire you will chuse some other instrument of your misfortune and disgrace; for I will not undertake the office, though, by my refusal, I should even lose your friendship, which is dearer to me than any thing upon earth.”
‘Here the virtuous and prudent Lothario left off speaking, and Anselmo remained in such confusion and perplexity, that, for some time, he could not answer one word; at length, however, he broke silence, saying, “I have listened, my friend Lothario, as you may have perceived, with great attention to all you had to say, and by your arguments, examples, and comparisons, am fully convinced, not only of your great discretion, but also of that perfection of friendship to which you have attained: I see also, and own, that in refusing your counsel, and following my own, I avoid the good and pursue the evil. This truth being acknowledged, you must consider me as a person afflicted with that infirmity, which induces some women to swallow earth, chalk, coals, and other things of a worse nature, which, if loathsome to the sight, how much more disagreeable must they be to the taste. Wherefore, there is an absolute necessity for using some method of cure, which you may easily effect, by beginning to solicit the love of Camilla, though coldly and feignedly; and, sure, she cannot be so frail as to surrender her virtue at the first encounter. With this slight attempt I shall rest satisfied, and you fulfil the duty of friendship, not only in giving me new life, but also in dissuading me from being the cause of my own dishonour. Nay, you are obliged to comply with my request, by this other consideration, that, determined as I am to put my design in execution, you ought not to allow me to communicate this extravagant resolution to any other person, lest I run the risk of losing that honour which you endeavour to preserve; and, as to your suffering in the opinion of Camilla, by attempting to seduce her, that is a reflection of small importance, because, when her integrity is proved, you can soon inform her of our whole contrivance; consequently, regain and repossess the former place you held in her esteem. Since, therefore, by adventuring so little, it is in your power to give me so much satisfaction; I hope, you will not refuse the office, even if it was attended with more inconvenience; for, I have already told you, that I shall look upon the affair as concluded, whenever you shall have made the first attempt.”
‘Lothario seeing him fixed in his resolution, even after he had exhausted all his rhetorick to dissuade him from it; and fearing he would execute his threat of imparting his unhappy design to some other person, determined to prevent a greater misfortune, by complying with his desire; purposing, however, to manage the business in such a manner, as to satisfy Anselmo, without altering the sentiment of his wife. With this view, he told Anselmo that he should have no occasion to communicate his intention to any other man; for he, Lothario, would undertake the affair, and begin when he pleased. Anselmo, embracing his friend with great tenderness and affection, thanked him as much for his compliance, as if he had granted him some vast favour; and it was concerted between them, that Lothario should begin the enterprize the very next day, when Anselmo would give him time and opportunity of being alone with Camilla, that he might speak to her with freedom; and also supply him with money and jewels, that with such presents he might promote his suit; he, moreover, advised, him to attempt her by musick, and write verses in her praise; or, if that would be too much trouble for the gallant, he himself would compose them for the purpose. Lothario undertook every thing, but with a very different intention from what Anselmo supposed; and the agreement being made, they returned to the house of this last, where they found Camilla waiting with great anxiety, for her husband, who had that day tarried longer than usual abroad. Lothario soon after went home to his own lodgings, leaving his friend as happy as himself was perplexed how to contrive a scheme for bringing this affair to a fortunate issue; but that night he fell upon an expedient to deceive Anselmo, without giving offence to his wife.
‘Next day he went to dine with his friend, and was very kindly received by Camilla, who entertained him with great cordiality, as her husband’s intimate companion. Dinner being ended, and the table withdrawn, Anselmo rising up, desired Lothario to stay with Camilla till his return from an indispensable piece of business, that would detain him an hour and a half. Camilla intreated him to defer it until another time, and Lothario offered to go along with him; but he was deaf to both, pressing Lothario to let him go, while he should wait at his house till he came back, for he wanted to talk with him upon a subject of the last importance; at the same time, desiring Camilla to keep Lothario company till his return; in short, he so well feigned the necessity, or rather folly of his absence, that nobody could have suspected the deceit. He accordingly went out, and left Camilla and his friend by themselves, for the rest of the family had gone to dinner; so that Lothario seeing himself within the lists, according to Anselmo’s desire, with his fair enemy, whose beauty alone was powerful enough to overcome a whole squadron of armed knights, it may be easily conceived what reason he had to fear, yet all he did was to lean his head on his hand, while his elbow rested upon the arm of the chair in which he sat, and after having begged pardon for his ill-manners, to tell Camilla he would take a nap till Anselmo’s return. She said he would be more at his ease in a couch than in the chair, and advised him to walk into a chamber where he would find one. This offer, however, he declined, and slept where he was till the return of his friend, who finding Camilla in her own apartment, and Lothario asleep, concluded that by his long stay he had given them time not only to speak, but also to take their repose, and was impatient for Lothario’s waking, that he might carry him out to walk, and enquire about his own fortune.
‘Every thing succeeded to his wish; when his friend awoke, they went forth together, and he put every question to him that his curiosity suggested. Lothario answered, that thinking it improper to explain himself on the first occasion, he had done nothing but praised Camilla’s beauty, which, together with her discretion, he told her engrossed the conversation of the whole city; this he imagined was the most prudent beginning, as it might prepossess her in his favour, and dispose her to listen to him another time with pleasure; being the same artifice which is practised by the devil, who, when he would seduce those who are on their guard, transforms himself from an imp of darkness into an angel of light, and flattering them with specious appearances, at length discovers his cloven foot, and succeeds in his design, provided his deceit be not detected in the beginning. This declaration was altogether satisfactory to Anselmo, who said he would give him the same opportunity every day, without quitting the house, in which he would employ himself so artfully, that Camilla should never suspect his design. Many days passed, in which, though Lothario never opened his mouth on the subject to Camilla, he told Anselmo that he had made many efforts, but could never perceive in her the least tendency to weakness, or obtain the least shadow of hope; on the contrary, that she had threatened, if he did not lay aside the wicked design, to disclose the whole affair to her husband. “Very well,” said Anselmo, “hitherto she is proof against words, we must now try whether or not she can resist works also. Tomorrow you shall have two thousand crowns in gold, for a present to her; and as much more to purchase jewels, for a bait; these are things with which all beautiful women are captivated; for, be they ever so chaste, they love finery and gay apparel, if she withstands that temptation, I will rest satisfied and give you no farther trouble.”
‘Lothario promised to go through with the enterprize, now that he had begun, though he was persuaded he should be fatigued and baffled in the execution. Next day he received four thousand crowns, and as many perplexities along with them; for he did not know what lye he should next invent; however, he determined to tell his friend, that Camilla was as invincible to presents as to words, and that he should give himself no farther vexation, since all his endeavours were thrown away to no purpose: but fortune, which conduced matters in another manner, ordained that Anselmo, one day, after having, according to custom, left Lothario and his wife by themselves, and gone to his own chamber, should peep through the key-hole, and listen to their conversation, it was then he perceived, that in half an hour and more, Lothario did not speak one word, neither would he have opened his mouth, had he remained a whole age in the same situation. From hence he concluded, that every thing his friend had told him of Camilla’s replies, was mere fiction; but, to be still more assured, he came out of his chamber, and calling Lothario aside, asked what news he had, and how Camilla stood affected to him? He replied, that he was resolved to drop the business entirely, for she had checked him with such bitterness and indignation, that he had no mind to return to the charge. “Ah, Lothario! Lothario!” said Anselmo, “how much you have failed in the duty of friendship, and abused the confidence I have reposed in your affection! I have been all this time looking through the key-hole of that door, and perceived that you have not spoken one word to Camilla, from whence I suspect that your first declaration is yet to come; and if that be the case, as without doubt it is, wherefore have you thus deceived me; and in so doing, prevented me from other means to satisfy my desire?” He said no more, but this was sufficient to cover Lothario with shame and confusion; who, thinking his honour concerned in being convicted of a lye, swore to Anselmo, he would from that moment take the charge of giving him the satisfaction he required, without the least equivocation, as he might perceive by watching him narrowly; though there would be no occasion for using such diligence, because his future behaviour in that affair would acquit him of all suspicion.
‘Anselmo gave credit to his protestation; and, that his opportunities might be more secure, and less subject to interruption, resolved to absent himself from his own house for eight days, during which he proposed to visit a friend who lived in a village not far from the city; and whom he desired to invite him to his house with the most earnest intreaties, that he might excuse himself to Camilla for his absence. Unfortunate and imprudent Anselmo! what art thou doing? what art thou contriving and concerting? Consider that thou art acting against thyself, planning thy own dishonour and perdition. Your wife Camilla is virtuous and sober, and you possess her at present in quiet, enjoying uninterrupted pleasure; her inclinations never ramble beyond the walls of your own house; you are her paradise upon earth, the goal of her desires, the accomplishment of her wishes, and the standard by which she measures her will, adjusting it in all respects according to your pleasure and the directions of Heaven. Since the mine of her honour, beauty, modesty, and virtue, yields thee, without trouble, all the riches which it contains, or thou canst desire; why wouldst thou, by digging in search of a new and unheard-of treasure, risk the fall or destruction of the whole, which is sustained by the feeble props of female constancy? Remember it is but just, that he who builds on impossibilities should be denied the privilege of any other foundation; as the poet hath better expressed it in the following couplets—
‘“In death I sought new life to find,
And health, where pale distemper pin’d:
I look’d for freedom in the gaol,
And faith, where perjuries prevail;
But Fate supreme, whose stern decree
To sorrow match’d my destiny,
All possible relief withdrew,
Because th’impossible I kept in view.”
‘Next day Anselmo went to the country, after having told Camilla, that in his absence Lothario would take charge of the family, and dine with her every day; he therefore desired her to treat him with all the respect due to his own person. Camilla, being a woman of honour and discretion, was disgusted at this order, and bade him consider how unseemly it was for another man to sit at the head of his table in his absence; at the same time begging, that if his directions proceeded from his diffidence in her capacity, he would for once put her management to the trial, and be convinced by experience, that she was equal to a more important charge. Anselmo replied, that such was his pleasure, and her province was to bow the head and obey; upon which, she, though unwillingly, submitted. Next day he set out accordingly, and Lothario went to his house, where he met with a very kind and honourable reception from Camilla, who never gave him an opportunity of being alone with her, but was always surrounded by her servants, generally attended by her own maid, whose name was Leonela, for whom her mistress had a particular affection, because they had been brought up together from their infancy, in the house of Camilla’s parents; and when she married Anselmo, she accompanied her to his house in quality of waiting-woman.
‘During the first three days Lothario did not declare himself, although he had opportunities immediately after the table was uncovered, while the servants were at dinner, which Camilla always ordered them to finish with all expedition. Nay, she gave directions to Leonela, to dine every day before the cloth was laid for herself, that she might always be in waiting; but her maid’s thoughts were too much engrossed by her own amusements, the enjoyment of which required such time and opportunity, as often hindered her from obeying the commands of her mistress, so that she frequently behaved as if she had received orders to leave them alone; but the dignified presence of Camilla, the gravity of her countenance, and awfulness of person, were such as effectually bridled Lothario’s tongue: yet the energy of virtue, in having this very effect, redounded the more to the disadvantage of them both; for, though his tongue was restricted, his thoughts had a full and free opportunity of contemplating at leisure the charms both of her mind and person, which were sufficient to captivate not only an heart of flesh, but even a statue of stone.
‘Lothario, by gazing at her during those opportunities, beheld how worthy she was to be beloved; and this conviction began gradually to sap his regard for his friend, so that he made a thousand resolutions to quit the city, and go where he should never more be seen by Anselmo, or be exposed to danger from the beauty of his wife; but all these were baffled by the pleasure he had already felt, in seeing and admiring her charms; he constrained himself, and combated his own inclinations, in order to expel and efface that satisfaction: when he was alone he condemned his own madness, and reproached himself as a false friend and worthless Christian; he made a thousand reflections and comparisons between himself and Anselmo; and they all terminated in this conclusion, that the madness and rash confidence of his friend greatly exceeded his own infidelity, and that if he could excuse himself to Heaven, for what he intended to do, as easily as to mankind, he had no reason to dread any punishment for the crime. In short, the beauty and other accomplishments of Camilla, together with the opportunity which the ignorant husband put into his hands, entirely overthrew the integrity of Lothario; who, giving way at once to the dictates of his passion, began at the end of three days, during which he had been at continual war with his desires, to address himself to Camilla with such disorder and amorous discourse, that she was utterly astonished, and rising up went to her own chamber without answering one word. But this coyness did not abate Lothario’s hope, which always increases with a man’s love; on the contrary, he redoubled his efforts: while she, perceiving him behave so wide of expectation, did not well know what conduct to espouse; but, thinking it would be both unseemly and unsafe in her, to grant him another opportunity, she determined that very night to send a message to her husband, and actually dispatched a servant to him with the following letter.