The LOVES of CHARLES DUKE of MANTƲA; And of MARGARET Counteſs of ROƲERA: A Tranſlation out of Italian.
THe Princeſs Mary remaining a Widdow by the Death of the Prince her Husband, imployed all her Art and Care in Governing the State, which we may yet call Hers; and us'd much Diligence in Chuſing fit Miniſters to aſſiſt Her in that Affair, during the Minority2 of her Son Charles, who was too young to meddle with Affaires of that Nature: I need not here undertake the deſcription of that extreme tender affection which all the World obſerv'd in this Princeſs towards the young Duke; but will recommend it to thoſe fond Women, who are Mothers of an only Son, and ſole Heir to a great and Illuſtrious Family: The Careſſes of this indulgent Mother were more powerful upon him, then all the Political, Scholaſtical, and Military inſtructions which he received every day from the different Maſters of his Exerciſes. All the Ladies of the Court, to comply with the deſires of the Dutcheſs (whoſe greateſt pleaſure was, to ſee her Son won by thoſe extraordinary Careſſes,) and to delight themſelves in the great ſatisfaction they every day took in diſcovering new graces in that little Prince, made it their whole ſtudy to pleaſe him, by carreſſing and imbracing him even in their Armes; although he was already in an Age wherein Nature uſually excites thoſe motions which Love often produces. One day one of the Principal Senatours of Mantua obſerving3 the Ladies that waited on the Dutcheſs, & her Maids of Honour, were thus employ'd about this little Prince, could not refraine from ſaying aloud, That the State would have but an Effeminate Prince; in which, he proved no falſe Prophet.
Amongſt all the young Ladies that attended the Dutcheſs, there was one born in the City of Caſale, and was, by reaſon of her beauty, and good Meene, juſtly called, The Ornament of the Court, and delight of the Courtiers: The little Duke himſelf expreſſed a great inclination for her, and one may ſay much above what his tender years ſeem'd to permit: but perhaps her name being Margaret, this young Prince believed he did nothing below himſelf, in admiring the Jewel, which is generally called the pureſt.
The Princeſs, who was infinitely pleaſed with what ever her Son delighted in, recommended him particularly to this young Lady (not as to a Governeſs, her Age being almoſt equal, but onely) to divert him in his houres of Recreation, which was truely to recommend the Cabbidge to the care of4 the Kid, and to give the Sheep into the keeping of the Wolfe: For, this young Lady looking upon this Imployment as a good Fortune for her, and ſeeing very well that nothing was wanting in this young Prince but the Age to Govern, ſhe ſo well applyed her ſelf to get his Favour, in making uſe of all thoſe little Arts that uſually takes young People, that in a little time it was eaſie to be obſerv'd, her Intentions were not ſo much to ſerve him as a Maſter, but to gain him for a Friend; and, to change the quality of Servant into that of his Miſtreſs.
The little Duke, who already began to take ſome other kind of delight in the Company of Ladies, then what little Children uſually do, very eaſily ſacrific'd theſe Firſt Fires of his Love, which were newly born in him, to this young and ſubtil Play-fellow of his; who, on her ſide, was more and more inflam'd with Love to this young Prince, by the great and particular kindneſs he expreſt to her.
In the mean time, whileſt theſe two young hearts burn in a reciprocal Fire for one another, yet their years were ſo5 tender, that all their Pleaſures conſiſted in Talking, and taking each other by the hand, and perhaps in ſome little ſtolne Kiſſes now and then: All the Diverſions which the Duke found in the Court amongſt the Ladies; being, either to pull down the Stool, when they were ſet to work, or elſe to fling their work into the fire, or ſometime to ſteal a Kiſs, or to jumpe into their Armes, and talk of Love, which he as yet but little underſtood. But Jealouſie, which is ſo great a Courtier in the Palaces of all Princes, fail'd not to make an early viſit to the Court of that young Duke, and was already got amongſt all his little Play-fellows, and began already to play the Tyrant in the Hearts of the young Ladies; and, chiefly amongſt thoſe who believed they merited the Dukes Favour moſt; if not in beau•y, yet by reaſon of their great Birth, or in the Favour of the Dutcheſs his Mother: yet, neve•theleſs, the Duke made ſtill his greateſt Court to Madamoiſelle Margaret; and, ſhe fail'd not to give him a return; and the more they perceiv'd the envy of the other Ladies, who indeavoured to6 Croſs them, the more powerful their Love grew to each other.
It was one day told the Dutcheſs, That her Son was ſo taken up with his love to Madamoiſelle Margaret, that he would never make the Sign of the Croſs with any Hand but Hers: but the Dutcheſs rallying preſently that Man which told her ſo, Anſwered him; Where there is no Malice, Love is ſincere; Truſting to the innocent Childiſhneſs of ſuch tender years, and not being able to imagine, that a young Child of nine years old (as he was) could have a Paſsion for a Girle of the ſame Age. The Mother of Madamoiſelle Margaret liv'd alſo in this Court, and waited upon the Dutcheſs, which was the reaſon of her daughters being there ſo young: This old Lady was ſo crafty, that ſhe wanted nothing but Poetry to be that Coriſco in the Paſtor Fido; the more ſhe diſcover'd ſigns of Love in the Duke to her Daughter, the more ſhe inſtructed her in the Art to increaſe and mannage that growing Paſſion; and Taught her the Art of making Love, which ſhe underſtood in Perfection.
7In the mean time the Dutcheſs beginning to think it now high time to withdraw her Son from the company of Women, amongſt whom, he ordinarily, like other young Princes, paſſed away the beſt part of the day; ſhe choſe a Governour for him, prudent, and of approved integrity, and indowed with all neceſſary qualifications fit for a man that was to undertake ſo great an Imployment as the Education of a young Prince. The Perſon ſhe made choice of, as moſt fit, was the Marqueſs of Arrigony; who receiv'd this charge with all the demonſtrations of Affection and joy imaginable; hoping, that his Services would in time render him very conſiderable in the Government, by the impreſſions he ſhould make upon the ſpirit of this young Prince; but, it arriv'd quite contrary to his expectations.
When the Dutcheſs committed this young Duke unto the Care of the Marqueſs, ſhe above all recommended to him three things:
- Firſt, To Teach him all the Exerciſes of a Gallant Man with Mildneſs, that he might learn them with delight.
- Secondly,8 To be ſure not to neglect the Finding out what he was chiefly inclin'd to, and moſt capable of; leaſt he ſhould give him too hard a Leſſon.
- Thirdly, And above all, not to force him to do any thing againſt his will, and was abſolutely againſt his inclination; and to be ſure to allow him his houres of Divertiſements with the Ladies of the Court, and principally with Madamoiſelle Margaret, who was chiefly acquainted with his Humour.
To ſpeak the Truth, theſe orders were not at all ſutable to the Prudence nor Humour of the Marqueſs; who could not imagine to what end they were given him, ſeeing nothing in them extraordinary; beſides, he was vext within himſelf, to ſee, by that, the Princeſs lookt upon him as a Man very unread in what belong'd to the Government of a Prince: He Promis'd nevertheleſs to obey her Highneſs exactly, and not to be wanting in that fidelity which was ſo natural to his Family, and ſo particular to himſelf; yet he could not hold from ſaying, That he was very ready to ſerve his Maſter to his capacity; but, in his opinion, it9 would be better to diſaccuſtome a little this young Prince from the company of Ladies, then to uſe him ſo much to their Converſation; ſince he could receive no Leſſons from them but what were Effeminate, which was a thing very injurious to Princes: To which the Dutcheſs reply'd; That the honeſt and lawful converſe with Women taught great Men to Rule with gentleneſs; and that ſhe deſir'd nothing more in her Son, nor from himſelf. The Marqueſs having no more to ſay after that Declaration, made no Anſwers but of Proteſtations of obedience to her Highneſs in all things. After that the Dutcheſs ſent for the young Duke, and commanded him to look upon the Marqueſs as the guide of his Perſon and actions; and perſwaded him to think it no trouble to follow the Adviſes of a Man, who would inſpire no Sentiments into him but thoſe of his Glory and advantage.
The Marqueſs having paid his Reſpects and Acknowledgments to the Dutcheſs, retir'd himſelf till the Apartment order'd for him was made ready: In going out of the Hall he met with10 Mounſieur Pianezza a Friend of his, and his particular Confident, to whom he related his new happineſs in the Dutcheſſes Favour; withal, telling him the particular Orders he received from her concerning the Education of the young Duke, not forgetting a word of all had paſt, eſpecially that paſſage which concern'd of the young Dukes Recreations amongſt the Ladies of the Court: Pianezza judging this Order not very agreeable to the Marqueſs, whiſper'd to him very ſoftly; Monſieur, Be you ſure to tye the Aſſe where the Maſter bids you, and let the Wolves eat it if they pleaſe.
The Marqueſs anſwer'd, ſmiling; I am too Old to make uſe of opportunity; and too Young to ſerve the Amours of another.
Madamoiſelle Margaret, who knew the humour of the Marqueſs was more inclin'd to Rigour, and Duty, then of Compliance, would not have been troubled to have ſeen the Education of her young Duke committed to any other then he; though it is certain ſhe was too young to make this diſtinction of her ſelf, but that ſhe was inſtructed by11 her Mother. Now it happen'd one day, that this young Lady meeting with the Duke and the Marqueſs together, ſhe ſaid (without doubt, by the Inſtructions of her Mother) Sir, I am extreame glad to ſee the Choice the Dutcheſs has made of you for the Conduct of our Prince; for certainly, it could have been committed to no perſon in the World ſo fit as your ſelf; whoſe merit is ſo univerſally eſteem'd, and 'tis likely to be moſt profitable for his Highneſs advantage. The Marqueſs gueſsing from whence this Complement came, and that her Mother had taught her what to ſay, could not refrain from Laughing a-little; and taking her by the hand, acknowledg'd her Favour by all the expreſsions he could think of: taking very much delight in the diſcourſe of that young Lady, who, to ſay truth, beſides her other extraordinary beauties, was very agreeable in her diſcourſe.
Another time, meeting her in the Court of the Pallace, ſhe told the Marqueſs, almoſt Laughing; Now the Prince is ſo much yours, we can be allow'd no part in him: The Marqueſs12 alſo Laughing, and putting his hand upon her Face, anſwered her; My pretty little Lady, the Duke is too young to be yours, therefore you ought not to be angry that he is ſo much mine: Thereupon the young Duke taking Madamoiſelle Margaret's ſide, anſwered preſently, I will be theirs that will be mine; Would you have me be yours? The young Lady only anſwer'd with a low Curt'ſy, and a Look, which ſhew'd the deſires and ſentiments of Her heart.
Some few Moneths after that, the Marqueſs being Declar'd Governour, and the Duke of Parma being to paſs through that Countrey to go to Venice, the Dutcheſs, although he intended to make that Voyage Incognito, fail'd not to ſend the Marqueſs, at all adventures to meet him, with her young Son the Duke; and the Dutcheſs deſiring, that he ſhould be received in paſſing by, with all the Honours imaginable, though he intended not to be known: The Complemental diſpute between theſe two Princes at this Ceremonious Enterview, kept them ſo long in the hot Sun in the Fields, that the young13 Duke received no little trouble by the heat which is ſo ordinary there in the Moneth of June: In the mean time all things having pleas'd the Duke of Parma very much in this meeting, and the young Duke returning home, he fell into a little Feaver, accompanied with ſo great a pain in his head, that it was the trouble of the whole Court, eſpecially the Dutcheſs, who was moſt ſenſibly afflicted; no Remedies imaginable for his diſtemper were omitted, yet nevertheleſs they did no good, for the Feaver and extreame pain in his head rather increaſed; although Madamoiſelle Margaret, whoſe grief was equal to her tenderneſs, ſtirr'd not from his Bed-ſide; laying her hand ſometimes upon his head, which was no ſmall pleaſure and eaſe to the young ſick Prince. The Dutcheſs his Mother, who was almoſt every day coming and going to his Chamber, to inquire of his condition, asking him one day, How he did? he anſwer'd her boldly; Madam, ever ſince Madamoiſelle Margaret has toucht my head, I have ſcarce felt any Paine. It was not very difficult for the Mother to believe her Son, from the14 obſervation ſhe had already made of his Love to that young Lady, and therefore ſhe ſaid to him, Well, my ſon, ſhe ſhall be put to bed to you, if the Marquis your Governour will approve of it; He will not approve of it, (replied the yong Prince) becauſe he does not know my diſeaſe: I do know it ſaid the Marquis, (who was not very far off) and I know that your ſickneſs has need of a remedy.
During this ſickneſs of three or four days the hearts of this Piramus, and of this This be inflam'd extreamly, but in a way very natural and conformable to their age, which did not yet allow them any other thoughts but what were innocent; This young Lady, who was not leſs intereſſed in the repoſe of the Prince than of his health, ſtirr'd not from his bed-ſide from morning until night, with a Fan in her hand to drive away the Flyes, which in that Countrey ordinarily torments the ſick.
He being at laſt recovered from this fit of ſickneſs, applyed himſelf anew to his exerciſes, though with little inclination or profit; The Marquis ſaw very well that the love which this young15 Prince had for this Madamoiſelle Margaret grew up with him, and that his deſires of profiting in Learning thoſe things more fit for his Study (without which a Prince looſes his beſt ornament) diminiſht every day as he grew older, which was a moſt ſenſible affliction to the Marquis, who took all the pains imaginable about him.
One evening after Supper the Dutcheſs walking in her Garden with the Marquis, ſhe askt him the reaſon why her ſon made ſo ſlow a Progreſs in thoſe exerciſes he had learnt, as well Military as others, and wondred that at 14 years of age as he was then, there was nothing at all extraordinary to be obſerv'd in him. The Marqueſs fancying the aſtoniſhment the Dutcheſs had put on was a reproach to his diligence and affection both, was very much piqu'd, and a little mortified, nevertheleſs without diſcovering his reſentments; Me thinks, Madam, ſaid he, if I may have leave to ſay ſo to your Highneſs, that your Speeches are very much alter'd from your declar'd opinion to me that minute your Highneſs was pleas'd to give me that honourable imployment16 of Governour to the young Duke your ſon; For, I remember you commanded me then, to inſtruct him in all things with mildneſs and moderation, and now your Highneſs wonders why I have not forc'd his nature, and his ſtrength. I confeſs, Madam, I ſcrupled nothing more than diſobeying your Orders, but to deal ingeniouſly with your Highneſs, I muſt tell you this truth, that if my affection to him and my cares had not rous'd him a little, and almoſt conſtrain'd him to apply. himſelf to thoſe exerciſes the moſt neceſſary for him, that he would this day be more ignorant than he is; although whatever he poſſeſſes appears very inconſiderable to your Highneſs, the Duke can ſit very well, and has a very becoming grace on horsback, he has often ran at the ring and won the Prize, to the ſhame and confuſion of the moſt experienc'd Cavaliers in that exerciſe, he is not very unskilful in his Arms, and for his Dancing, certainly your Highneſs can better judge of that than I: it is true he has but little inclination to the French and Latine Tongues, nevertheleſs he underſtands the one, and17 begins to ſpeak the other; but if your Highneſs will permit me to ſpeak my opinion, I muſt tell you if that Madamoiſelle Margaret were made tutour to the Prince, or were the onely thing he were to ſtudy, he would without all queſtion profit much better then he does. For he ſpends more time in making love to this Lady, then he allows to his Leſſons: whil'ſt the Ducheſs and the Marquis were in this diſcourſe, the young Duke came into the walk, and the Ducheſs immediately askt him, if it were true that the Marquis ſaid; to which he ſuddenly made anſwer without examining what it was, that it was a thing impoſſible for him to anſwer a demand upon the ſudden of a thing he was ignorant of; the Ducheſs would have preſſed him further, but that minute ſhe receiv'd Letters of great concern from Venice which ſhe read, and communicated them to the Marquis as ſhe was wont to do all Papers of publick buſineſs. In the mean time the young Dukes affection for Madamoiſelle Margaret increaſed every day, and grew faſter then he; he ador'd and reſpected her, and he did not ſeem to18 live when he was abſent from her, though but a moment, every one knows there is no Lady in the Court ſo Fair, nor ſo cruel, whom intereſt and ambition does not ſoften, to gain the love of their Prince, nay, the very men of Quality, the moſt conſiderable amongſt the Courtiers often ſhut their eyes and ſerve their Prince, neer thoſe of their own Relations; certainly there never was a Prince ſo paſſionately deſir'd by the Ladies as this Duke Charles; he was often treated by many great men, to no other end but to ſhew him their wives, or their Daughters, but to their great diſappointment, becauſe this Prince lookt onely modeſtly upon them, his love to Madamoiſelle Margaret made him neglect all others, looking upon none but her with tenderneſs and love, and often proteſted he would not change her for all the Faireſt Ladies in the Univerſe.
And now this young Duke is arriv'd to his eighteenth year of age, I will call him no longer the little Duke. This Duke then went often into the Chamber of Madamoiſelle Margarets mother, where he was always flatter'd19 and carreſs'd, nay, the mother her ſelf ſhut him up ſometimes with her daughter, and left them alone upon the bed playing together, carrying the Key away in her Pocket. One day the Duke going to walk, perhaps with deſign, in the Palace Garden, he met the mother and her daughter walking alone in the wood, the Duke no ſooner approached them then he cryed, Madamoiſelle have a care in coming ſo often into this wood you are not raviſht. The mother (who was the craftieſt woman in the world) anſwer'd him preſently, So ſhe is raviſht by a Prince, there will be no great hurt; but the Prince replyed as quickly, You had better let her give the Favour to a Prince, then ſtay till he force it: It is true, ſaid the mother, but Favours gain'd that way are more ſweet and ſecret. The Prince in the mean time took the young Lady by the hand to walk with him in the wood, whil'ſt the mother return'd to the Palace very well pleas'd to leave her daughter in ſuch good company, who ſtay'd three hours together in that place, none knows what they did: But after they had taken their walk the20 Prince waited upon Madamoiſelle Margaret to her mothers chamber, to whom he ſaid, Here, Madam, take your daughter which I reſtore you in the ſame condition you left her with me. I believe what you ſay, Sir, anſwered ſhe, becauſe you are a Prince.
From that day Madamoiſelle Margaret began to take upon her, and ſhew ſome kind of Empire over the Duke, and the Prince found no inclinations in himſelf to reſiſt her. The Ducheſs appear'd indifferent, and did not ſeem diſpleas'd at their Friendſhip, imagining that the Duke was oblig'd one way or other to divert his youth, and ſhe was the more willing to allow him this Friendſhip with Madamoiſelle Margaret, becauſe ſhe was well acquainted with her diſpoſition, and believ'd ſhe would not ingage the Duke into any diſorder'd way of life prejudiciable to his Perſon or Fortune, and ſo while all this paſt, ſhe ſhut her eyes, and took no notice at all, and though one day ſhe hid her ſelf to watch their actions, yet ſhe could diſcover nothing between them but teſtimonies of a Friendſhip which reaſon allows of.
21But ſince the Love of theſe two perſons was become the general diſcourſe, the Ducheſs conſulted many times very ſeriouſly with the Marquis Arigone, who very farre from approving this too violent inclination, as many others did, who were well enough pleas'd to let the Duke freely purſue his inclinations: He on the contrary, forgot nothing, to let them ſee they ought to have prevented him: the Marqueſs was preſs'd on by theſe reaſons;
In Mantua there dwelt a widow that was one of the moſt conſiderable women of that place, who was mother to one of the moſt fair and agreeable young Ladys of all that State. This woman who was not very rich in worldly goods, ſuiting her ſelf to her fortune, liv'd onely in the quality of a Gentlewoman, and not like a great Lady; The Marquis, who had a paſſionate kindneſs for her, let no occaſion paſs of diverting his melancholly hours at her houſe, and as ſhe was not very cruel to him, ſhe granted him willingly thoſe Favours that Love demands, without expecting intereſt, imagining that the22 Marqueſs, who was naturally very grateful, would not fail, for the Mothers ſake, who granted him all things, to ſerve the Daughter to his Highneſs the Duke; and this opportunity pleas'd the Marqueſs very well, of ſhewing himſelf grateful to the kind Widow, in procuring the Love of the Duke for her Daughter, and alſo of teſtifying his Affection to his Prince, in bringing to him one of the moſt Accompliſh'd young Women amongſt his Subjects; but, ſince he fear'd it a thing impoſsible to do, ſo long as this paſsion of the Dukes to the Lady Margaret continued; he tryed all wayes to ſtifle it, but unprofitably; becauſe the Duke was ſo inſenſible for all other Women, as well Maids as Wives, that neither the handſome nor ugly work'd any effect upon him; for he us'd them both ſo indifferently, they had no reaſon to be jealous of one another: The Lady Margaret was the only Favourite, and the moſt lov'd; and what beauty ſoever hapned to be in the Dukes preſence, he had eyes for none but ſhe.
One day the Marqueſs imagining that it was impoſſible for the Duke to23 ſee that fine young Lady of his Acquaintance, and not fall in love with her, carryed him to her Mothers houſe, who had invited him to that purpoſe; and had ſpar'd for no Coſt, nor Ornament, to ſet off the Beauty of her Daughter, but all was to no purpoſe: and though the Marqueſs and the Mother left this young Lady and the Duke alone two houres together in a Chamber, the Duke ſate by her, as if ſhe had not been there, without ſpeaking one obliging word to her: The inſenſibility of this Duke was as a Dagger to the heart of this young Lady; and, in truth, What is more vexatious to a Woman, then to ſee, that all the arts ſhe has us'd to gain a heart ſignifie ſo little in the end. The Marquiſs quickly perceiv'd, that the Duke was not very well pleas'd in the place where he had brought him; therefore in returning home to the Palace, he begun to praiſe her extreamly; the Duke, although he ſeemed to take no notice, and yet nevertheleſs forc't by the Marqueſs to ſpeak of that Ladies Beauty he came from, ſaid to the Marqueſs, My Lord, This Lady is faire24 enough for you, who ſees her every day, but not for me, who never ſaw her before, and looks not upon her ſo often as you do: The Marqueſs reply'd, Your Highneſs muſt then ſee her often, that you may think her fairer than now you do: The Duke anſwer'd ſmiling, If I ſhould ſee her once more, certainly I ſhould think her more ugly then I do now. The poor Marqueſs was mad at this, and eſpecially when the Duke, whil'ſt they were talking, turn'd about and ſhew'd him the Lady Margaret, who they met in the Street; See there, my Lord Marqueſs, ſaid he, there is the faireſt amongſt all that are faire.
Whil'ſt theſe things paſt, the Dutcheſs growing angry, to ſee her Son ſo far gone in Love with the Lady Margaret, carryed by ſome unknown Politick reaſons, and perhaps at the earneſt Solicitations of the Marqueſs, ſent the Mother and the Daughter away to Caſal, yet with all the Civility imaginable, and with a particular Promiſe to Marry her very ſuddenly, as indeed it happen'd ſoon after: The Duke expreſs'd no great ſigns publickly of reſentment25 for her going away, hiding his trouble, without all doubt, very prudently, to take all ſuſpition from the Court: Till then, it was believ'd by moſt, that nothing but vertue had paſs'd between this Lady and the Duke; but others, that lookt nearer into the buſineſs, and could ſee farther into matters of Love, believ'd the contrary; not being able to imagine, how Vertue could ſubſiſt with ſo great a Liberty: and that a young Girle, who deſir'd nothing more then the heart of a Prince, could refuſe him any thing. The Duke certainly was not without deſires, nor the young Lady without a good will; the youth of them both, and the great liberty allowed them, gave ſtrange cauſes of ſuſpition: In fine, believe who will, that all their time was ſpent in ſaying their Chapelets, and their Pater-noſters, for my part I never will.
Some time before the parture〈◊〉the Lady Margaret, the Duke had•…y long and private Conferences with〈◊〉where there wanted no Tears on b••h ſides at that cruel ſeparation, as a W••ting-Woman obſerv'd; he could••t26 forbear promiſing to Write to her, till he had the opportunity of going to viſit her at Caſal, which he gave her his Word ſhould be very ſuddenly: Theſe Proteſtations of the Dukes rais'd her Heart a little, which was ſo ſunk with the Fears and Troubles of a cruel Abſence ſhe was to ſuffer, and gave her courage to ask his Highneſs a word or two under his Hand, every moneth at leaſt; which Favour ſhe demanded of him in theſe Words; If your Highneſs will pleaſe to Write to me once every moneth, it will give me every day a Paradice: The Duke embracing her, ſaid, with all the tenderneſs of a paſſionate heart, go, and believe, that nothing in the World ſhall ever be capable to carry me from loving you.
She was ſcarce arriv'd at Caſal, but the Duke writ a Letter to her, as well for his own ſatisfaction, as for the contentment of her he Lov'd, it was th•…
27MARGARET,
THis is the firſt Letter which I write to you, with one of thoſe Pens that are guided by Love; I addreſs to you, whom I alone adore, as the onely and firſt object of my Love: To tell you how ſenſible I am of your abſence, you muſt aske this Heart, which thinks more of you, then of it ſelf; I do not ſware it to you; the Words of Princes needs no Oaths to Authorize them: however, I ſhall give you ſuch proofes, that you your ſelf will not deſire greater. Let me know the ſucceſs of your Voyage, and the ſtate of your Health ſince you went from hence, and whether you Love him that is wholly your
This Letter was given in charge to a Poſt that was ſent from Court to the Governour of Caſal, with expreſs Order to give it to no other hands but ſhe to whom it was directed: The Joy28 of this young Lady was ſo extraordinary in receiving it, that ſhe read it three or four times over in the preſence of the Man that brought it; and every time with a Face over-joy'd, to that extremity ſhe ſeem'd to him, ſhe would have eaten it, that ſo her heart might have been the Cabinet to preſerve it. The Mother was not at home when her Daughter was thus entertaining the Poſt, and examining him with great concern of the Dukes health, and chiefly of his Employments; and whether he did not particularly Viſit ſome Lady or other with great Familiarity: but, in theſe Queſtions to him, ſhe ſeem'd not to underſtand what ſhe did, for a Man of that condition, that ſees the Court but at a diſtance, is not to be askt ſuch Queſtions: But, it is true, ſhe was at that time to be pardon'd, ſince the occaſion of that Letter was enough to put her into extraordinary tranſports for him ſhe Lov'd. The Mother being return'd, gave order for ſomething for the Poſt to eate, whil'ſt in the mean time ſhe read over and over again with her Daughter the Dukes Letter, and conſulted together for the29 Anſwer, which they return'd by the ſame Meſſenger, in theſe words;
To tell your Highneſs how much comfort your Letter gave me, is impoſsible for me to expreſs; I could not defend my ſelf from vanity, in reading ſo many proofes of Affection from your Highneſſes Goodneſs: if I were not well acquainted with the nature of it, which is indulgent to all thoſe who like me, Courts with a moſt humble Reſpect all opportunities of obeying your Highneſſes Commands. It will not be hard for you to find amongſt your Subjects a Merit above mine; but, I Queſtion very much if your Highneſs can find any more affectionate to your Service then I am: I have already Sworn to you all the Fidelity and Service can be expected from a Perſon of my Sex. It belongs to your Highneſs to Command, and me to Obey; yet my Feares tell me, that you do not ſo often think of Commanding me, as I do of Blindly Obeying you. As for the Account you are Graciouſly pleaſed to30 deſire of my Journey hither, I aſſure your Highneſs, it had been very pleaſant and happy for me, if every ſtep I made to Caſal had not carryed me from what I left behind at Mantua, ſo dear to•…e: Your Highneſs asks me if I love you; How can you believe it poſsible to be ſo ungrateful, not to love a Prince that loves me. I will ſay nothing more, but that I am and will be, to your Highneſs, Great Prince,
The Dukes of Mantua had a Cuſtome, of going three or four times every year to Caſal, to Viſit that place, ſo conſiderable, for its Scituation, and becauſe it is the Capital City of Montferrat: The Duke reſolved for the future to make that place his ordinary reſidence; carryed more by his Love to the Lady Margaret, then for Intereſt of State: And none can expreſs with what repugnance he quitted that Town to go to Mantua, when at any time the31 neceſsity of his Affaires called him thither; yet he indevour'd to conceal the true reaſon of his ſtay ſo much in that place, by pretending the Ayre was ſo much better; ſaying often, That the Ayre of Mantua was an Ayre for Monks to dwell in, but that of Caſal was an Ayre for the Seat of a Prince: And, in truth, he was very much in the right, when he ſpoke ſo of thoſe two places, ſo contrary to each other; for the Ayre of Caſal was extraordinary good, and that of Mantua had nothing at all commendable in it: though, 'tis true, the Ayre where Princes reſide purifies admirably. All Affaires the Duke took in hand at Mantua proſper'd very ill; but, on the contrary, it ſeem'd that Caſal was Fortunate to all his Enterpriſes: There was ſcarce a day but the Duke complained of ſome Indiſpoſition or other whil'ſt he was at Mantua; his Head, his Stomach, and I know not how many more Infirmities tormented him, or at leaſt he pretended it: but, when he was at Caſal, he never made the leaſt complaint of any thing, whether he had cauſe or not; but, if it hapned, that ſome Fits of an Ague,32 Feaver, or any diſtemper ſeiz'd upon him at Caſal, he would lay the fault upon his having ſtaid too long at Mantua.
The Dukes of Mantua have a Palace near to Caſal, call'd the Margaret, whether they have alwayes been accuſtom'd to divert themſelves ſome time of the Summer; and there was a Phyſitian in Mantua, who, being pretty well acquainted with the temper of the Duke, and the inclination he had for the Lady Margaret, underſtood very well, that all theſe Diſtempers the Duke ſo often complained of at Mantua, had no other cauſe but an Amorous Feaver; and therefore he fail'd not to adviſe the Duke to viſit often that wholſome Ayre of Caſal: And, whil'ſt the other Phyſitians were ſearching out the cauſe of the Dukes diſeaſe, and buſying their heads to find a remedy, this wiſe happy brother of theirs advis'd the Ayre of Margaret as the only place of Cure for his Highneſs, and was well rewarded for his paines by the Duke, whoſe delight at Caſal you may eaſily imagine was great, and his health perfect. The ſatisfaction of33 going to Caſal, and leaving Mantua, was plainly diſcover'd in the different Journeys he made, in going and returning between thoſe two places; by the haſt he made to the one, and the ſlow pace he went towards the other: to Mantua he went with a Tortoyſes pace, and to Caſal he flew as faſt as an Eagle: Whenſoever his Important Affaires oblig'd him to go from Caſal to Mantua, he Travell'd like a Prince; but, when he was to leave Mantua, and go towards Caſal, he went in Poſt. The Paſtimes of the Duke were not very great, nor divertizing to the Court, for his greateſt pleaſure was in viſiting the Lady Margaret, in whoſe Company his moſt delightful houres were ſpent; and it was no great difficulty for a young Prince to entertain himſelf very pleaſantly with a young handſome Woman, inſtructed by an old cunning Mother; who, in her youth, had at one time oblig'd more then four ſeveral French Gentlemen, whil'ſt they ſtaid at Caſal. The houſe of this Lady was not far from the Caſtle, in one of the faireſt Streets of the Town, in which place the Tennis Court was kept; the34 Duke, who hated Tennis when he was at Mantua, took great delight in it at Caſal; perhaps to ſhew his Miſtriſs his addreſs; but, he ſpoyl'd his own deſign: For, he not being able to take his Eyes from the Window where ſhe was, he hardly ſtroke one Ball of three. It was no ſmall diverſion to the ſpectators, to ſee thoſe two Lovers ſpeak with their Eyes and Hands, and uſe a thouſand other pleaſant Geſtures, in that place, where there was conſtantly more perſons aſſembled to obſerve them, then to ſee the good play of thoſe that were at Tennis: In the mean time jealouſie ſeiz'd furiouſly upon all the Ladies in that place; but, amongſt them all, it chiefly laid hold of a young Woman whoſe name was Nata, Grandchild to the Preſident; ſhe almoſt dyed with envy at the Dukes Courtſhip to the Lady Margaret, believing her ſelf much handſomer than her Couſin the Lady Margaret; and had great deſires (at leaſt) to ſhare with her in the Dukes Affection: and her Grief increaſed the more from the vexation ſhe had, to ſee, that all her Beauty and Ornaments had not power enough35 to draw one kind look from his Highneſs, for whom ſhe had dreſt her ſelf to no purpoſe. The Duke never went to Play, but by his dearly Beloved Margarets command, his Linnen was alwayes brought to her Houſe; he ſcarce toucht the Ball three times, but away he muſt go to ſhift himſelf in her Chamber, leaving the reſt of the Players at Tennis, ſometimes three houres, to wait till he came down to make an end, which he ſometimes commanded them to do. A French Gentleman hapning to be in the Tennis Court one day, was by chance on the Dukes ſide, who was gone up, as his Cuſtom was, to the Lady Margaret; this Frenchman, impatient (as thoſe of his Nation commonly are) at the Dukes giving ſo long a time to rub himſelf, fell into a paſſion, and ſaid publickly to one of his Camerades; If the Duke of Mantua muſt (as is reported) have the Command of the Imperial Army for the King of Spain, Lombardy will quickly be ours; for he takes up more time in changing his Shirt, then the French do in taking a Town.
36There was no body but plainly ſaw this ſo often changing of Linnen was rather a pretence of the Dukes, than neceſſity; nothing moving him to run up to her Chamber, but ſome Amorous fancy, which the fight of her at the Window awaken'd in him; and there was great reaſon to believe it, for ſhe never ſtirr'd out of the Balcony as long as the Prince was in the Tennis Court; but, immediately vaniſh'd when he went out to go to her Chamber; and, aſſoon as he was got into the Street, to return to his Play, ſhe appear'd in the Balcony again: which, diſcover'd eaſily, that he ſought no pleaſure, but that, of being near his Goddeſs; and ſhe glory'd in nothing more, then to let the People ſee, ſhe had been giving him his Shirt.
In the mean time the Mother of this young Lady, and alſo the Duke, begun ſeriouſly to think, of finding out a Match for this beloved Margaret, who wanted no pretenders, her power being ſo great with the Duke; who, in this deſign, to Marry her, intended not ſo to rid himſelf of her, whom he lov'd paſſionately: Nor did the old37 Mother reſolve ſo to loſe her; but, they took this way, to diſguiſe thoſe ſhameful effects, which uſually follow theſe kind of diſhoneſt Paſſions, as it ordinarily happens in Italy, where the Husband often ſerves for a Cover: For, an unmarryed Woman, though ſhe is Courted by a Prince, is lookt upon in that Country as infamous, if ſhe entertain him; But on the contrary, let a Marryed Woman be never ſo impudent, ſhe is nevertheleſs very well receiv'd amongſt all Ladies of the greateſt quallity.
The Family of this Lady Margaret had been ſo blaſted by the abominable carriage of her Mother with the Frenchmen, and the Spaniards; her eldeſt Siſter particularly, whoſe name was the Counteſs Louize, lately a Widow, had been notorious, and had liv'd the life of a common Curtizan, taking Mony of any body; living that kind of life, which is ſo much practiſed amongſt thoſe Women, ſo well known by Travellors; ſhe fell in love with a Frenchman, who came off better cheap, and almoſt for a ſimple Grand Mercy; he being, as one may ſay, more Courted38 by that young Widow, then he car'd for, which made her fall into ſtrange diſorders, when he was forc'd to return into France with the French Army, in which he was an Officer, and left that poor diſconſolate Widow to re-take that habit of Mourning ſhe had ſo lately quitted; and, it is believ'd, ſhe had remain'd unconſolable, if the Frenchmans place had not been kindly taken up by a young Earle in Caſal; but, what was moſt remarkable, was this Counteſſes flattering her ſelf with the hopes of Marrying this young Earle, by the Credit her Siſter had with the Duke, and his Authority; ſhe gave him all the Liberties imaginable, and they liv'd together like Man and Wife, with ſo publick a Scandal, that the Biſhop intended to Excommunicate them, but was ſoon prevented from that trouble; for, the young Earle at laſt cloyed with the Embraces of that Lady, and weary of her Addreſſes, began to leave her off by little and little; which, the Counteſs perceiving, addreſs'd her ſelf to her Siſter, deſiring her to perſwade the Duke, to Command the Earle to Marry her; which, when the39 Duke went about to do, the young Earle briskly anſwered; Sir, The Earles of Caſal do not uſe to Marry Whores: Thus this poor abus'd Counteſs ſought her ſatisfaction in her patience, and try'd no more that vain attempt, of Marrying the Earle by the Dukes Authority and Juſtice, as her Siſter incouraged her to hope; for the Earle Swore, he would rather a thouſand times die a Man of Spirit, then live a baſe Cuckold: So the Counteſs ſeeing Force would do her no good, employ'd Mildneſs and Careſſes to gain him; but the Earle being well acquainted with the Crafts of Women, us'd his opportunities, took ſome times his pleaſure, and derided Matrimony: Nevertheleſs the Lady Margaret had pretenders good ſtore, who were drawn more by their Ambition, becauſe of the Empire ſhe had over the Duke, then by any other Motive; whil'ſt ſhe minded nothing more then the enjoying her pleaſures at full liberty, which ſhe could only do by getting a Husband quickly; but a Husband of her own chuſing, fit for the purpoſe; that is to ſay, a good honeſt Man, and one as the Italian ſayes,40 Un gran cog, &c. — The Mother and Daughter both jump'd in this opinion; the Mother fearing, that if her Daughter ſhould chance to fall into the hands of ſome Fantaſtick Husband, ſhe might loſe all her authority over her; and they both together fear'd, that his ill humour might be the occaſion of ruining her Favour with the Duke, and ſo they ſhould be quite undone, and loſe all their hopes. The Duke alſo was mindful of his own intereſt in that Affair, and conſented not to the Marriage of his Miſtreſs but upon thoſe termes; chuſing rather to poſſeſs her in that condition ſhe was already, then loſe her in another. The Dutcheſs, on her ſide, conſidering the Intereſt of State, the conſervation of the Houſe of Gonzague, and for the general ſatisfaction of her Subjects, looking upon the Duke as the onely prop of her Family, deſir'd, and ſought nothing more then to ſee this Lady Margaret Marryed away; fearing, leaſt the Duke might, loſing himſelf in this extreame ridiculous Love for her, think of Marrying her himſelf: At that time there came to Caſal the Earl of41 Rovera, a man made for their purpoſe, and made as ſuch a man ſhould be; he he was born at Savona, and deſcended from that noble Family of Rovera, which has given to the Church thoſe two famous Popes Sixtus the fourth, and Julius the ſecond. The humour of this Lord was very peaceable and retired, not caring to ſee any body but thoſe of his old acquaintance. In fine, he was a true Ball for theſe Ladies to toſs, and ſuch a one as the Duke, the mother and daughter all deſired; and to ſpeak him in one word, he was of a humour to let them do what they pleas'd, and go were they had a mind to; and though he was not a man of great Learning, yet he was for all that, a man of very good ſenſe, and his wit was capable of ſerving him better than his Language.
The deſign of this Earl had been to paſs his Life in a ſingle condition, if the ſollicitations of the Duke and the Lady Margaret (who was reſolv'd not to let ſlip this occaſion) had not alter'd his reſolutions, and from the firſt day he made her a viſit, put him into a condition of not being able to live one42 day without ſeeing her: Whil'ſt they were treating of this marriage, the Lady Margaret, to try whether the Earl were of a jealous humour, pretended one day (as he ſat muſing by himſelf in her Chamber) that the Duke had ſent for her to play at Cards with him, ſo that ſhe ſhould be oblig'd to ſtay there with her mother till the next day; and to perſwade the Earl abſolutely to believe the Duke loved her paſſionately, She told him, That the Duke loving her as he did, ſhe could do no leſs than to ſatisfie him in all things that depended upon her: but the Earl not underſtanding her, or at leaſt, pretending not to know her meaning, onely anſwer'd, She would do very well to ſerve his Highneſs, and ſo went away.
One of the neareſt kindred to the Earl, hearing of this intended marriage, went to him with deſign to ſpeak freely to him concerning it as a Friend, and told him, he ought to think more than once upon what he was going to do, and that he ſhould ſeriouſly conſider, (before he proceeded any further) upon the love between the Duke and the Lady Margaret; but the Earl anſwer'd,43 Matrimony will break that Friendſhip. That ſame Friend of his indeavour'd to prove the contrary to him by a hundred reaſons, but could get no other anſwer from him (after he had thankt him kindly for his advice) but this, The horns that are grafted by a Prince do not ſit heavy upon the head. Two days after another of his Friends told him openly, that for his part he would not marry that young Lady for any thing in the world, becauſe that as long as the Duke lived, he could not refrain from being jealous, and ſhould aſſuredly die a Cuckold. This ſecond advice amaz'd the Earl a little, yet he ſaid onely that he believed nothing of all theſe reports. In the mean time this renewed advice wrought ſuch an effect, that he went not to ſee his Miſtreſs in two days, but love being ſtronger, he could not refrain from viſiting her again, ſo great was his deſire to marry her and make her his dear half.
The Duke ſeem'd to take no notice of all theſe Paſſages, (though they made a noiſe great enough,) but waited till the Earl ſpoke to himſelf about it, which he at laſt did, at the ſolicitation44 of the mother, who let him know that her houſe had been always protected by his Highneſs, and her daughter in particular, to whom the Duke had always expreſſed much friendſhip, and ſhe could do nothing without his Highneſs conſent and approbation. The Earl anſwer'd her preſently, That all Gentlemen were as much oblig'd to this duty, and that they were not wont to marry without they were certain of the Princes aſſent, and therefore it was his duty to do the ſame thing; after this reply he parted from her to go to the Duke, that old Lady having promis'd him to do the like in behalf of her daughter. The Earl had ſcarce began his complement to the Duke concerning his marriage with the Lady Margaret, when the Duke interrupted him to ſpeak to him advantageouſly of her Family and her Perſon, aſſuring the Earl of his affection and protection in all things; and to let him ſee how much he approv'd of this marriage, he told him with a great demonſtration of love, that he was certain that one or both could not but be happy, ſince it was impoſſible for him to find a more excellent45 woman nor more worthy of ſuch a husband, nor for her to find a husband more worthy of ſuch a wife. The Earl after he had paid his reſpects and deſerv'd thanks to the Duke, ſaid to him, I marry the Lady Margaret, becauſe ſhe is protected by your Highneſs. To which the Duke preſently replyed, laughing, We will love the Lady Margaret, and we will love her until death, having been brought up together from the beginnings of our life. The Duke after he had diſcours'd a long time with the Earl concerning the particularities of this wedding, took him by the hand, and ſaid to him, Go, my Lord, you will gather a Flower, worthy of ſuch a Rovera. My Tree (ſaid the Earl) wants a Flower which comes from the hands of your Highneſs. This marriage then concluded to the ſatisfaction of the intereſted parties, they received all the Complements, and made their Balls and Feaſts a la mode de France, which had been maſters of Caſal, more then fifteen years, and had ſo well eſtabliſh'd the French Liberty in that Town to the delight of the inhabitants, that they reſolv'd to keep it for ever; and it is46 certain, that if they were to change their maſter, they would accept of no other but the moſt Chriſtian King; ſo well do they remain ſatisfied with the French Nation, which is a thing extraordinary in Italy, where they are commonly ſo much hated, though the Italians can give no reaſon for their averſion to thoſe People: For it is moſt certain, that in thoſe Places of Italy where any of the French inhabit, they bring in one moneth more profit to that place, than the Spaniards afford them in ten year. The Duke, although invited to this wedding, could not reſolve upon any conſideration, to ſee his Lady Margaret given away, to whom he writ this Letter.
IF I thought that thy Marriage would deprive me of thoſe Priviledges I have hitherto injoyed with thee, for certain I ſhould rejoyce very little at it, but I do rejoyce, becauſe I aſſure my ſelf thou marrieſt with a reſolution to give thy Husband but the leavings of our love:47 heretofore we have been forc'd to do all things ſecretly to hide them from all the world; but from this day we ſhall find it more eaſie to conceal our actions from onely one man; give him the appearances, but do thou be ſure to keep thy heart for me, and remember that I am wholly thine,
The Duke let ſlip no occaſion of being preſent at all the Balls that were preſented to the Bride in ſeveral places; and one day he was in a dreſs that diſguized him ſo much, that he had never been diſcovered but by his great Familiarity with the Bride. The Duke having taken notice of a Diamond upon the Bridegrooms finger in the faſhion of a Heart, which himſelf had given his Lady Margaret, when ſhe was a maid, and was eſteemed worth a thouſand Crowns, was ſo extreamly angry to ſee the Earl wear it, that he reſolv'd to go away from Caſal without ſpeaking to her, but ſhe having ſmoakt him, us'd all her endeavour to appeaſe him, and bring him back again, proteſting48 he was in a miſtake, to believe ſhe had given that Ring to her Huſband, which ſhe eſteem'd ſo much for his Highneſs ſake, as the pledge of his affection, that it was more dear to her than any thing in the world. The Duke ſoftned by her tears, dried them up, not with a handkercher, but with his kiſſes, and after that ſtaid in her Chamber with her for ſome hours that day.
The wedding was kept with ſo great pomp and magnificence, that there wanted nothing but the publick preſence of the Duke, who though he refus'd to appear there in perſon, yet to ſhew how much he honour'd them, he ſent the Bride a Medal of gold, in which was a Daizy, (which ſignifies Margaret) ſet round with twelve Diamonds, and two Chains of great value, which he accompanied with this note,
The love of the Duke to the49 Counteſs ſeem'd after this wedding to grow by little and little ſomething cool, but it was but a feigned coldneſs: For he often found his opportunities of entertaining her in private during his ſtay at Caſal. The Earl us'd all the art he was capable of to ſurprize his wife in her private conferences with the Duke, but in vain; ſo that at laſt he began to believe ſhe had been ſlander'd, and ſo reſted in peace, giving her all kind of Liberty; who had wit enough to make the right uſe of it, and contented the Husband in publick, and the Gallant in private; but ſince now the Time and Neceſſity of the State ſeem'd to demand a Succeſſour to the Duke, ſo to conſerve that rich Patrimony ſtill in the ſame Houſe where it had long continued, and there being no other branch left of the houſe of Gonzague but himſelf; The whole State begun now to think in good earneſt of marrying him to ſome Princeſs worthy of ſo great a Prince, many matches were propos'd, but heaven, that ordinarily takes care of making marriages, ordain'd the Archducheſs Iſabella Clare, a Princeſs worthy of a Crown, to be this Dukes50 wife, and ſhould by her Life and Patience adde a new luſtre to the houſe of Gonzague; ſome other woman perhaps would have brought the ſame diſorder into that houſe (and it may be a worſe) than that which the houſe of Lorraine experimented in the love which the Duke Charles of Lorraine expreſs'd for the Counteſs of Cantecroy, to the prejudice of that affection which he owed to his wife Nicola. The Ducheſs, who notwithſtanding all the indifferency which ſhe ſaw in her husband towards her, ſhe expreſs'd not the leaſt jealouſie of the Counteſs, and although ſhe ſaw in a little time her husband abſolutely eſtranged from her, and engag'd altogether in the love of that woman, yet ſhe look'd no leſs kindly upon the Duke her husband, even whil'ſt the Counteſs endeavoured to keep him from her by all the wayes poſſible, having writ this Letter to him, notwithſtanding ſhe knew his Marriage with the Ducheſs was concluded.
51I Am not ignorant that the marriage of your Highneſs with the Archducheſs Iſabella Clare, will bring an increaſe to your Family, a glory to your State, and a comfort to your ſervants, but as faſt as•he joy of poſſeſsing ſo great a Prince does grow in the heart of the Archducheſs, that of my heart will diminiſh in the loſs I am•o ſuffer, of a heart that was alwayes the•bject of my love, and all my deſires: I hope your Highneſs will pardon me for writing to you in this manner, but in the•ondition I am in of looſing what I adore, I can be no longer any thing elſe but an extravagant without conduct or•eaſon; but if your Highneſs has been•leaſed to honour me hitherto by loving me as a Friend; I deſire you will at leaſt•ontinue your grace and favour to me•n loving, for the time to come, as your moſt humble ſervant
The Duke, who lov'd the Counteſs above his own reputation, after he ha•read her Letter two or three time over, ſighing, in the preſence of a brother of hers who brought it to him tore it, after he had anſwer'd it, wit•much tenderneſs in theſe words,
ALl Princes are accuſtomed to marry themſelves more by reaſon〈◊〉State then Love; ſo they love the•…wives more by reaſon of State than〈◊〉affection. If the intereſt of my houſe d•not oblige me to marry, nothing ſhou•…hinder me from being alwayes thin•…whoſe I ſhall be, in deſpight of all tho•…that would oppoſe it; and ſince th•…haſt deceiv'd thy husband to content m•why cannot I deceive my wife for thy ſatisfaction? trouble thy ſelf for nothing and love thy
Although the furious warres in the year 1629. had very much exhauſted•he treaſure of that State, yet the Ducheſs in this time of the marrying•f her ſon ſpar'd for no coſt, to render•t very ſplendid and magnificent; all•he Ladies of Honour that had liv'd in•hat Court were invited to make the•ntry of the new Princeſs into Mantua more glorious. There was none ex•epted in that invitation but the Counteſs, who the Ducheſs would not•nvite to that Ceremony, for ſome rea•ons, which, mortification to the Counteſs ſhe ſoon after complain'd of•o the Duke, and her reſentment was•eightned by her being, as it were,•aniſh'd from the Court in a time when the Earl her husband had re•eiv'd one of the chiefeſt Imployments or the Ceremony of that Entry; of•hich place he very well acquitted•imſelf to the Contentment of the Duke his maſter: yet notwithſtanding•ll this, the Counteſs would go to Mantua, and adorn'd her ſelf with all•he gallantries that fine Ladies take at•hoſe times to ſet themſelves off at Court, whither ſhe went to ſee the54 new Ducheſs, where at laſt the Ducheſs mother to the Duke, gave her leave to ſtay to take part in the divertizement of the Balls, which were given the•…for many dayes together, The fir•…great Ball paſs'd without the Duke ſeeming to take any notice of his Lady Margaret; and although there w•…more of Prudence than coldneſs of affection in this carriage of his, yet th•Counteſs could hardly refrain from expreſſing thoſe ſignes of anger an•jealouſie which ſeiz'd upon her heart imagining that the Duke ſatisfied wit•the beauty and carreſſes of his Bride began to neglect her charmes, whic•had ſo long captivated him; ſhe omitted no opportunity of ſpeaking to th•Duke, who underſtood her, and ye•avoided talking with her, though h•did not forget to cauſe her to be taken out to dance as well as the other Ladie•of Quality, to whom Princes alwaye•apply themſelves to do them chief honour at thoſe times. But this politie•diſſimulation of the Dukes cold carriage to the Counteſs continued but a little while: for before ſhe return'd, to Caſal with her husband, his Highneſ•55would ſee her, and diſcours'd with her, above an hour in private. I know not in what place they met, but the Marqueſs of Arrigone paſſing by the place where the Duke and ſhe were talking, and perceiving them together, Your Highneſs (ſaid he) goes back to the Sicut erat, before you begin the Pſalm.
The Counteſs went away very well ſatisfied, after this conference with the Duke, which made it believ'd that his Highneſs confirm'd the proteſtations of his conſtancy to her; but it was impoſſible for her husband to diſcover the reaſon of that great joy which was in her face at their return to Caſal.
Theſe beginnings of the Dukes Marriage, though they paſt thus coldly, yet it was not to be imagin'd that it would continue ſo long; although it is true, that the Thoughts and Affaires of Princes diſpenſes them in ſome ſort from the ordinary practifers of inferiour People: and, moſt People imagine, the Prince has perform'd his duty well enough, if he has got his Wife with Child; nevertheleſs, this Duke Charles, whether it were through the56 tenderneſs of his Age, having ſcarce yet arrived to his one and twentieth year; or through ſome other reaſon, he ceaſed not for three moneths together to Careſs the Dutcheſs his Wife with all ſort of kindneſs; not only before his familiar Friends, but alſo in the preſence of the Embaſſadors themſelves, which was a great contentment to the Dutcheſs his Mother: but 3 Moneths after that, ſome buſineſs at Montferrat, or, as it is conjectur'd, the Love to the Counteſs, who deſir'd him impatiently, or as ſome perſwaded themſelves, to leave the Dutcheſs at repoſe, obliged the Duke to go to Caſal; This Voyage a little alter'd the Dukes Affection to the Dutcheſs his Wife, if one may give the name of Affection to a Love ſo newly planted, whoſe Rootes were yet but ſmall and tender; the ſight of the Counteſs made him forget his Wife: and, it was obſerv'd, he had never taken ſo great a delight in Careſſing of the Dutcheſs, as he took onely in ſpeaking with the Counteſs: but, becauſe the preſence of the Husband was an Obſtacle to their pleaſures, he round out a way by a pretence of buſineſs57 to ſend him to Mantua: The Earle, who had from the firſt night of the Dukes arriving at Caſal, taken better notice of ſome paſſages he was troubled to diſcover, began then to believe, what till then he had but ſuſpected; nevertheleſs he muſt go by his Prince's Command, without ſhewing any repugnance for that journey: but, at his return, he receiv'd an account of all had paſſed from a waiting Maid, to whom he had made great promiſes of Reward, with Oaths to perform them, to be a faithful Spy for him, of what paſs'd between the Duke, and his Wife, in his abſence; ſhe promis'd the Earle, to give him an exact Account; but, it was not very difficult for her (the Counteſs not miſtruſting her) to find out the moſt private paſſages for this intelligence. The Earle had fooliſhly believed, that all the Dukes Love had no other Concluſion but Playing at Cards, and perhaps ſome little French Freedomes with his Wife; imagining, that her Brothers and Kindred, that were intereſted in the ſame reputation, would have prevented any further ill, but he deceiv'd, himſelf; For, they58 were of the opinion he himſelf had at firſt declar'd, (that the Hornes Grafted by a Prince did not ſit uneaſily upon the Head) and were ſo far from watching the Actions of the Duke, and their Kinſwoman, to prevent the ſhame of their Houſe, that they were very officious to bring them together, and ſerving the Dukes Loves with all imaginable care and diligence; and the chiefe amongſt them in this imployment, was he, whom the Duke had lately made Maſter of the Artillery at Caſal; it was he that convey'd by night his Siſter into the Dukes Chamber, and moſt commonly kept the Door, watching with the Male that was to carry back his Siſter to her own Lodging, when ſhe had pleaſur'd the Duke: In truth this Amour grew very ſtrong in this laſt Journey; the one began to hate her Husband, to ſatisfie her Gallant; the other, to deſpiſe his Wife, to give himſelf intirely to his Friend; and this was plainly perceiv'd by what happened after the Dukes return to Mantua; where he diſcover'd (to the great aſtoniſhment of all the World) that he was Cloyed of his Wife: No body being59 able to imagine, how a young Prince could poſſibly be weary ſo ſoon of a young Princeſs, who alſo was newly prov'd with Child, to the great Joy of the whole Court; whil'ſt in the mean time that chaſt Dove knew not what to think of a Husband ſo young who expreſt ſo little Love to her; and nevertheleſs, although her Grief at it was great, yet her Prudence was greater; ſo that ſhe pretended not to ſee that which ſhe but too much diſcover'd: The Earle, which the Duke had taken order to ſend away to Mantua, was commanded not to ſtir from thence till his Highneſs return'd, which he obey'd; and the Duke was no ſooner arrived in the Town, but he ſent him back to his own Houſe, where his Curioſity coſt him dear, and gave him no ſmall Mortification; the Servant he had imploy'd to watch, having given him the whole Relation of all had paſt between the Duke and his Wife: the ſhame and confuſion of this poor Man is not to be expreſs'd, when he learnt the circumſtances of this Impudent Love countenanc'd by the baſeneſs of is Wives own Brothers; and although60 he ſeem'd to take no notice of what he too well knew, nor hearkned to the Diſcourſes of his Friends upon that Chapter; yet, he could not imagine, that the Crimes of his Wife, and his own misfortune was ſo publick: his melancholly grew to that height, that he ſaw not any body that Saluted him in the Streets; and he fancyed every minute, that People were making Hornes at him behind his back: The Counteſs, who had a good Noſe, ſmelt out the reaſon of the Change in her Husbands Humour, and redoubled her Careſſes to him; fearing, leaſt this jealouſie which he appear'd ſo inſenſible of before his Marriage, might produce ſome unhappy effect; for, it is certain, that had ſhe known him to be of a jealous humour, ſhe would never have Marryed him.
In the mean time, as the Earle and his Counteſs walked one evening after Supper upon the Town Walls, the Earl ask'd his Wife, Did his Highneſs waite upon you often? As he was wont, reply'd ſhe; (ſeeing to what end he ſpoke it:) And, What did you do together, ſaid the Earle? to which, ſhe anſwer'd,61 The ſame that you did with the Dutcheſs at Mantua. Thus they both rallyed one another. The Husband perceiving what it was to have ſuch a Wife, and the wife lamented the trouble of having ſuch a Husband: yet nevertheleſs the Earles jealouſies had ſome intermiſſions, his Melancholly often giving place to his Joy; ſo that his Wife, and Brothers in-Law felt ſome time the effects of the one, and then of the other. Whil'ſt theſe things paſs'd in the Year 1652, the Dutcheſs was brought to bed of a Son, which is now the onely Prop of the Houſe of Gonzague; the Conſolation of his Mother; the Glory and Hope of the State, to which he gives great hopes, promiſing very much, ſhewing himſelf a great and brave Prince, and expreſſing averſion for an idle lazy life; and, on the contrary, a great inclination for all the exerciſes of Warr: It is believed, that ſince the Birth of that young Prince, the Duke convers'd not with the Dutcheſs as his Wife; the reaſon of this opinion is his aſſiduous love to the Counteſs, as alſo becauſe the Dutcheſs has not been with Child from that time.
62This indifference of the Duke towards the Dutcheſs was alſo imputed to two other cauſes; the firſt, to her Natural coldneſs; the other, to I know not what ſtrange deviſe of the Counteſs: the laſt ſcarce is doubted of; for, as report has ſaid, this Woman fearing to loſe the Dukes Friendſhip after his Marriage, and ſeeking to injoy alone a good, without which ſhe deſpis'd all others; reſolv'd to tempt all wayes to prevent that, which ſhe thought an obſtacle to her deſign; to that end, having told her thoughts to one of her Siſters, ſhe, by her meanes, became acquainted with it certain Magician, who dwelt at St. Sauveur, near to Caſal; the Counteſs went to him, and obtain'd ſome words from him; That he bid her be confident ſhe ſhould enjoy the Dukes Friendſhip alone: but, becauſe this Sorcerer was of an intelligence with a certain Religious Dominican, that Lady gain'd him by his meanes; ſhe rewarding him, by not refuſing him the ſatisfaction he requir'd of her: ſo, after that this Charme ſucceeded ſo well by the help of this Reverend Father, that by their Diabolical Inventions, the63 Duke had that knot tyed, uſually ſo fatal to Marriage: Others have believ'd that this was a falſe report, and that this Witchcraft took no effect, but that the Duke made it a pretext to avoid the Dutcheſs, whom he lov'd not; and devote himſelf to the Counteſs, whom he ador'd, in which there is no likelihood: For, let any body imagine how it can be poſſible for a young Prince to live in the company of his Wife without touching her, if there had not been ſome reaſon diabolical, or ſupernatural to hinder him: ſo, that it muſt certainly be believ'd, that the Counteſs did bewitch the Duke.
The old Dutcheſs, troubled at the Dukes infirmity, told him he ſhould make uſe of ſome ſpiritual or natural remedies to cure him, but (what was very ſtrange) he laught at her advice, which made people believe that it was done by his own conſent.
It has been ſaid that that natural coldneſs of the young Ducheſs, compar'd to the Conſtitution (ſo contrary) of the Counteſs, contributed very much for the ſmall affection he had for her: but how could the Ducheſs leave64 off that purity ſo rare and commendable, which ſhe had alwayes made the ornament of her life, to comply with the Dukes deſires, and which he found in another? There is no doubt but that ſhe lov'd as much as any other woman could do, but with a ſincere, true and real love, for to ſay truth, ſhe was not in the number of thoſe that onely made a ſhew of love, but ſhe lov'd her husband from the bottom of her heart; ſo that all her affection was within, having not thoſe little fooliſh fondneſſes which ſome other wives ſtudy with ſo much affectation to ſhew their loves: In a word, her affection was truly great, though ſhe did not make ſhew of it; but to clear all this, I think it to ſome purpoſe to ſay ſomething by the way, to diſcover what the Dukes inclinations were naturally, and alſo of that of the Counteſs Margaret.
All men naturally take great delight in the Careſſes they receive; it is certain that the Duke was more inclin'd to that ſatisfaction than any man; ſo that it may almoſt be ſaid, that weakneſs was a fault of nature in him65 who ſo deſired to be courted by the women, without which, it is thought, the Duke would have been inſenſible for them; they ſay that this inclination of the Dukes was caus'd by the Converſation of the Ladies of the Court, amongſt whom he was brought up, and ſpent moſt of his youth, having alwayes been careſs'd by one or other of thoſe Ladies that waited on his Mother, who lov'd nothing more than to ſee the women make much of him, and to be under the conduct of that ſex, and particularly the Lady Margaret, who had ſo us'd him to her carreſſes, that he could not think of carreſſing his wife, if he were hot prepar'd by hers, which is a thing that ſeldom happens, but what the one could not do, the other was perfect in, and exercis'd her art ſo to the humour of the Duke, that he could not defend himſelf from her Charms, though he had a mind to it, alſo the Counteſs was liberal enough of her Courtſhips to him, mov'd rather by ambition to domineer and govern the Duke, than by any ſentiment of nature, which is believ'd by the little care ſhe took to66 court her husband at that rate; and certainly the very Sirenes and Circes were never capable of more inticements and flattering carreſſes than ſhe us'd to pleaſe the Duke.
See here the poiſon of this Marriage, ſee here the Fall of the Dukes reputation; a Princeſs too modeſt and little ſenſible of Carreſſes, and a Prince too deſirous of thoſe kind of Charms; and on the other ſide, a woman experienc'd in all the crafts of Love, to gain the heart of this Prince, and take it from the Princeſs, and it is ſtedfaſtly believ'd, that if the Princeſs had been of her rivals humour, the Duke would have lov'd her as well as he lov'd the Counteſs, and had been as good a Husband as he was a Lover; and that if the Counteſs had not underſtood the way of treating him in another manner than the Ducheſs did, without doubt he would have had no greater a Complaſance for her; but yet it was better for the Princeſs to be as ſhe was, than to be of the humour of her rival: In the mean time, it is eaſie to be believ'd, that the exceſſive carreſſes which the Counteſs made to67 that Duke made him not only hate the Ducheſs in the way of Matrimony, but alſo to abhorre Marriage it ſelf for her ſake: for to juſtifie this opinion, he was quite contrary to the cuſtome of other Princes, who delight in change; for he could indure to ſee no other woman but the Counteſs, and it is certainly reported, that except his wife, he never touch'd any other woman but the Counteſs, who was his ordinary Meal every day, and his Feaſt alſo; however one day he was angry at her for ſomething, he to vex her ſent for a young very pretty woman of the town of Caſal, and becauſe in that rencounter there happened a very pleaſant paſſage, I think it neceſſary enough to mention it in this place in few words: This young Maid liv'd in a houſe on the back-ſide of the Church of the Auguſtin Fathers in a ſtreet great enough, the Duke having often paſs'd that way with the Counteſs, fail'd not to look upon her ſtill being at the door on purpoſe to be ſeen by the Duke; This happened a little after the depart of the Earl in his voyage to Poland, the Duke rather68 to laugh than for any other deſign, ſeeing this young woman, us'd to ſay to the Counteſs, That wench is handſomer than thou art; It is true ſaid the Counteſs, (peek'd with jealouſie) but ſhe has fewer charmes, therefore I don't fear that ſhe will deprive me of your love which is apter to be taken with agreeableneſs than beauty; but what pleaſure does your Highneſs take to break my head with jealouſie?
One night when the Duke was angry at her, or counterfeited himſelf ſo, to vex the Counteſs, to trouble her brains yet more, he ſent word to that young woman by one of the Grooms of his Chamber, (who was the ſame that us'd to wait upon the Counteſs to his Chamber at night in the Caſtle) that he would ſpeak with her, and that he ſhould expect her after Supper. Her mother, who underſtood this myſtery, ſaid to the Meſſenger, The words of his Highneſs cannot but produce great grace to my Daughter, who is wholly at his ſervice.
The hour come, the Groom of the Chamber went to execute the Orders of his Maſter, and to conduct this69 young Maid into his Chamber, (I will not ſay into the bed) but the Counteſs, being inform'd by the ſame man, who was her kinſman and a very good friend of hers, ran preſently to the Palace, where having found that Prey, without taking notice of any thing, ran to the Dukes apartement, and preſented her ſelf to the Duke, to make him change his reſolutions, who being made tender by her carreſſes, he caſt himſelf into her arms, whil'ſt the Groom of the Chamber, too crafty to looſe ſo good an occaſion, conducted the young woman, which he had brought, into his own Chamber, where he made her ſtay and lye with him; ſo that ſhe ſaw her ſelf conſtrain'd to receive from the man what ſhe expected from the maſter. In the mean time her mother, taking hold on this occaſion, bragg'd every where that her daughter had great Familiarities with the Duke, to whom nevertheleſs ſhe had not ſo much as ſpoke a word. The Duke being with his well-beloved, was in ſome apprehenſions that the Groom of his Chamber might ſurprize them with that young wench he had ſent for, but70 he found afterwards that all things were carried very well. The Counteſs of her ſide, reproached the Duke very much for his lightneſs and the injuſtice he did her in going about to change a love which he had experienc'd ſo long, for one that was ſo new, and beſides, which was not worth the trouble. The Duke excus'd himſelf, ſaying, All that was but in jeſt, and to make her jealous, from whom he receiv'd thoſe delights anew, which ordinarily is found in the reconcilements of Lovers. But, ſaid the Counteſs, what did that young Wench do in your Palace. The Duke quickly replyed, That if ſhe were come thither, it was for his valet de Chambre, and not for him. Your Highneſs then (ſaid the Counteſs) ſerves the Loves of your valet de Chambre. Thus the pleaſures baniſh'd the ſuſpicions, and the peace was concluded without much pain.
In the mean time, the young Ducheſs, too well inform'd of this unruly life, the Duke led with the Counteſs Margaret, could not defend her heart from ſuffering all thoſe torments which an honeſt and vertuous wife uſually feels upon ſuch an occaſion. 71She made ſome tell the Duke her Husband of it, deſiring him to ſtop the Courſe of that diſorder, which was his ſhame, and the ſcandal of his people: Her Prudence made her conceal her grief, and her Vertue oblig'd her to ſtifle thoſe reproaches ſhe might have made to the Dukes infidelity, which would draw upon him the hatred and ſcorn of other Princes; amongſt whom at that time there was not heard of the like. The Duke could not hear the lawful reproaches of his wife the Ducheſs without being touch'd with the remorſe of his crime; but if he ſet before his eyes the wrong and injury which he did to the goodneſs and fidelity of his wife, he faild not alſo to repreſent to himſelf how little it was in his power to leave off loving the Counteſs. Thus the mortification which he receiv'd from the reproaches was made to him ſerved to no other end but to put him into a condition of not knowing which ſide to take; he knew his crime, but he could not hate the cauſe; and it was impoſſible for him to baniſh out of his ſoul his love to the Counteſs, to place the Ducheſs72 in her room; and although he wanted love for his wife, yet he wanted not reaſon to know his diſorder; ſo that he ſought to ſweeten the juſt reſentments of the Ducheſs by all kind of ſubmiſſions, in which he let the world ſee that he was very well skill'd in ſaving (as 'tis ſaid) both the Cabbidge and the kid; people wonder'd how he could ſo well both pleaſe his wife and his Miſtreſs, and how it came to paſs that the deceived Ducheſs remain'd better ſatiſfied than did the Counteſs, who effectually receiv'd from his Highneſs all kind of ſatisfaction, who wanted nothing that ſhe could deſire from him; but it was to be wiſh'd that the Ducheſs could have alſo the ſame pretenſions that the Counteſs had.
All that the Duke and the Counteſs did had no other end but to ſeek out wayes to injoy one another more often, which happen'd as they wiſh'd. The one ſtudied to deceive her Husband, and the other his Wife: But to ſpeak truth, the Counteſs found it a harder task to cheat her Husband, than the Duke found in deceiving the Ducheſs his Wife: for this poor unfortunate73 Lady perceiving that this was an incurable evil and deſperate, by a great Prudence ſhut her eyes almoſt, that ſhe might not ſee the diſorders of her Husband; whil'ſt on the other ſide the Earl watch'd his wife, the more that he ſaw her give her ſelf up to the love of the Duke, to her great diſhonour and loſs of her own reputation, and he had juſt reaſon for doing ſo: for ſince they were not aſham'd to act their worthy affairs almoſt before all the world, notwithſtanding all the diligence of the Earl to watch them; what would they not have done, if he had winkt at their excellent Carriage?
If theſe two Lovers had been contented to do all in ſecret, the Earl had not been much diſquieted, nor had he taken what they did into his conſideration, but had rather, would have ſeem'd to have receiv'd ſome ſatiſfaction in the hopes of being well us'd by the Duke, and to have receiv'd honours from him in the fight of the world: For all his great trouble aroſe from the publick ſcandal, and the opinion he had conceiv'd, that every body fancied he complyed with theſe74 amours, and thus it made him ſick at heart, to be counted not onely a baſe man, but an infamous voluntary Cuckold, and publickly to be deſpis'd as ſuch a perſon: He never reflected upon the Nobility of his Houſe, deſcended originally from great Princes, who had alwayes liv'd honourably, and had mantain'd themſelves for many years by a very advantageous reputation, without ever receiving any ſtain; but thoſe reflections made him repent he had married a wife, whoſe carriage ſo much diſhonour'd that illuſtrious Family of his; and the good fame his Predeceſſours had acquired by their honeſt Lives; his anger kindled a thouſand times in his heart the deſire of revenge, but the fear of ſome thing worſe happening to him, and to looſe not onely his fortune but alſo his life, ſtifled all thoſe thoughts in him. Shall I ſay furthermore, the apprehenſion of a ſad end and an untimely death hinder'd him often from complaining to his wife of her wicked Carriage of her ſelf; He durſt not, I ſay, correct her in ſecret, or to threaten her, fearing that, ſhe being warn'd by that, might procure75 to him a violent death in revenge to his upbraids of her: ſo that he was often forc'd to pretend as if he had not ſeen thoſe paſſages he ſaw too plainly, and to be ignorant of what he knew too well. But in fine, not being able to indure any longer a vexation that grew every moment, preſs'd with grief and ſhame, he reſolv'd to go to Savona, to ask Counſel of his Parents, what courſe to take to deliver himſelf from a misfortune which was ſo cruel to him and ſo great? and he had ſcarce acoſted them, when one amongſt them reproach'd him of marrying a wife whether they would or no, who was the daughter of an unchaſt mother, the ſiſter of a whore, and whoſe own honour was ſuſpected then when he would ſo obſtinately reſolve to marry her, and her life ſince has prov'd what ſhe was then. The poor Earl, extreamly mortified with theſe reproaches, could make no other anſwer, but that he never thought things would come to this paſs; his Parents nevertheleſs not to leave him in this Sea of Confuſion counſell'd him after they had comforted him a little, that he ſhould76 try to remove his wife from Caſal calmly and with Gentleneſs, to bring her to Savona, and there reſolve to ſettle and live out the remainder of his days in his own Country.
This Earl tryed the way of following this good Counſel, believing for certain that abſence would cool this love, and that time would make him forget what at the preſent was ſuch a heart-breaking to him, and caus'd him ſo much ſhame; being then return'd to Caſal, he begun to try if he could work this miracle upon his wife, but all his indeavours were in vain; he told her his Parents deſir'd her company very paſſionately amongſt them, that the Ladies of that Town deſir'd impatiently to injoy her company, to render her all the ſervice and reſpect they thought due to her; he alſo prayed her to conſider how advantageous the Promiſes of that Republick were to him of making him a great man, by the conſiderable imployments they would give him, and that ſhe ſhould aſſure her ſelf he would ſpare no coſt to give her all ſort of contentments, and to that end he was reſolv'd to purchaſe a little77 but fair Lordſhip hard by the Sea-ſide, where in the Summer-time they would divert themſelves together, by all the agreeable divertiſements ſutable to perſons of their condition. In fine, to conclude in a word, he gave her many other politick and moral reaſons, ſo ſtrong and plauſible, that they would have been powerful enough to have convinc'd any body but her ſelf: but the good Counteſs did nothing but laugh at this diſcourſe, and without flattering him any further, told him plainly, That ſhe was not of an humour to quit her own for a ſtrange purchaſe, the certain for the uncertain, and that which ſhe was really poſſeſt of for a picture and ſhadow, that ſhe had not married her ſelf at Caſal with intention to dwell at Savona, that the contract of her marriage had made no mention of this change, and that he could by nothing in the world find a lawful excuſe to make her change her own Country; and if he pleas'd he might deſire to ſee his own Relations at Savona, but as for her ſhe would rather ſtay in the Company of her brothers at Caſal, and after all ſhe aſſur'd78 him it was loſs of time to dream of that, becauſe ſhe was confident his Highneſs would never conſent to their parture, and yet to depart without his conſent it was blindly to precipitate her ruine, and thus the Earl was, conſtrain'd to deſiſt from his enterprize, and ſaw himſelf oblig'd to arm himſelf with a new patience. The Counteſs the whileſt judging by theſe words, that he had a deſign to retire her from her Lover; imagining beſides, that her Husband had prepar'd for her at Savona ſome of thoſe Morſels which the Italians ordinarily give to their wives in the like Caſes, as it often happens in Italy; which made her ſeek an opportunity to ſpeak to the Duke, and having eaſily found him, as ſhe wiſh'd, ſhe having the Liberty to go and come to him at all hours, after ſhe had acoſted him and made her curtſie, ſhe told him at length the whole ſtory of her Husbands deſignes, not forgetting his very words in a manner, that ſhew'd how angry ſhe was at her Husband. This reſolution of his extreamly diſpleas'd the Duke, who lookt upon the Earl as very little79 politick, and not at all prudent, and thought it very ſtrange that for a fooliſh trifle (for he lookt upon the making a man a Cuckold nothing elſe) he would hazard the loſs of his favour in retiring from his ſervice, he was of opinion that the honours he conferr'd on the Earl was ſatisfaction enough for the honour he took from him, and that he had done him Favour great enough in making him one of the moſt conſiderable of his Court, which he had not done upon any conſideration in the world, but for the Love he had for the Counteſs.
But if the Earl conſulted his Parents at Savona, to carry the Counteſs thither out of Caſal, the Duke and ſhe conſulted at Caſal againſt him, and ſought out Pretences to abſent in good earneſt that obſtacle of their delights from them: for is was every day a new work, and every time that this Lover came to Caſal he was in trouble to invent ſome new pretext to be rid of him, to the end that he might ſupply his place with the Counteſs, and divert themſelves with more Liberty; But the Duke came ſo often80 to Caſal, and was ſo often put to his ſhifts to find out new pretexts of diſmiſſing the Earl out of the way, that he was now at the bottom of his ſcrowl, and his invention being tyred, he knew not what to do next: theſe Lovers propounded many wayes to one another, whereof one was to ſhoot him privately with a Musquet, and pretend afterwards that the blow came from ſome of his enemies; but the Prince could not hearken to this reſolution, not being willing, after the example of David, to add murther to his adultery, not being aſſured that he ſhould repent as he did; beſides, the Counteſs her ſelf was not of a nature ever to give her conſent to any actions of cruelty, the leaſt in the world; or any that thus was an offence to the Holineſs of Matrimony, notwithſtanding the heat that appear'd in her firſt motions and paſſion againſt her husband. They had already ſent him to Rome, twice to Florence, as many times to Venice, and I know not how many times to Turin and Genes. The Duke at laſt would ſend him into France, in the quality of an Ordinary Embaſſadour,81 but there were two obſtacles that hindred that, The hate and averſion the Earl ever bore to the French Nation, was one, and indeed his declared averſion to them was ſo unreaſonable, that he was us'd to ſay in all Companies where he came, that if he had the Keyes of Hell but one day, he would with his whole heart ſend all the Frenchmen thither, even to the Devils Palace, becauſe they had corrupted the City of Caſal, and by the introduction of their Liberty had ſo chang'd that Town en bordeau. Thus it appear'd not reaſonable to the Duke to ſend ſuch a man to treat with them. In the ſecond place, that which hindred the Earl from being ſent Embaſſadour into the Court of France, was, The Fear the Duke had he would cary his wife along with him, (as aſſuredly he had done;) and the Duke refuſing to let her go, would have diſoblig'd him too much, and given cauſe to an apparent ſcandal, and therefore this Propoſition took no effect, and ended juſt where it begun, as unprofitable to their deſign; but the reſolution was certainly taken to diſmiſs the Earl one way or other,82 if not for ever, yet for a great while; but they endeavour'd to find out ways for their ſatisfaction that would ſuit with the glory of the Husband and honour of the Wife, which they lookt upon chiefly in this deſign. As for the abſenting of her brothers, there was no thought of that; for they were very merry and well contented to ſee their Siſter in the Dukes good graces, and envied one another, who ſhould moſt contribute to the pleaſures of the Duke and their Siſter. The profit they receiv'd was ſo great by it, beſides the conſiderable charges conferr'd upon them for their ſervice in that trade; in truth thoſe Gentlemen might well enough diſſemble their trouble, to ſee their Siſter live ſo diſorder'd a life, and content themſelves more eaſily to be the procurers of horns; ſince that office was not ſo great a diſ-reputation to them as it was to the Earl that was the Husband, who was to endure not onely the publike knowledge of his diſhonour, the injuries and reproaches of all the world, but alſo the pride and ill humour of his wife in his houſe, without daring to take notice of his83 being ſent away from her, ſo often, whole weeks and moneths, which was inſupportable to him: therefore it muſt not be wonder'd, if the Earl was weary of that life, as well as the Duke was of ſeeking out excuſes to ſend him abroad, to injoy his wife with more Liberty, who at laſt thought of a way very fit for his deſign.
There is in the Kingdom 'of Poland a Marqueſs of Gonzague, very much eſteem'd by all the people in that Countrey, who although they are not of the ſame line of the Dukes of Mantua, yet carry the ſame name, and arms, and are own'd by the Dukes of Mantua as kinſmen in all their Letters, which they ſend. It is true that this kindred gives them no manner of pretence to the hereditary Succeſſion of the Duchy of Mantua, and Marquiſate of Montferat: for the Duke of Mantua, who by the Emperours conſent, at firſt acknowledged them of kin to him, only upon this condition, That they ſhould be excluded from all pretences of Succeſſion to that State.
The Duke then was of opinion that he might ſend the Earl into Poland, not84 ſo much to make a viſit to that Marquiſeſas to be inform'd of the imployments, eſtate, and riches, and the intereſt they had in that Court; and to make his deſign hit the better, by the Earls making a longer ſtay in that journey than he expected, he order'd him to go not in the quality of an Ordinary Embaſſadour, but as a Gentleman traveller, who had no other end but to ſee the Countrey.
This reſolution taken between the Duke and the Counteſs, the Earl was ſent for to receive his Commiſſion, and what elſe was neceſſary for that voyage, and to prepare himſelf. The Duke gave him many wicked and falſe reaſons, the intereſt he had in being inform'd fully of the eſtate, and ranck which thoſe Lords held in the Court of Poland, and told him that he had already writ Letters of Recommendation of the Earl to them; in which, he had pretended that he was onely to paſs thorow that Kingdom; and had his Highneſs Commands to wait upon them from him, adding further, that he had willingly ſent him in the quality of Embaſſadour to their85 King, who was his Highneſs's kinſman, but for his own convenience, and to ſave the great Charge which ſuch an Embaſſie would have coſt him, and alſo for better profiting in his deſign, which carried him thither, he thought it more neceſſary for him to go as a private Gentleman, who had a Curioſity of ſeeing the world, than in any other quality, becauſe that in that Condition he could better inform himſelf of the eſtate thoſe Lords, without ſuſpition.
The Earl perceiv'd very eaſily the Dukes deſign, and although he humbly acknowledg'd the Favour his Highneſs did him in calling him to that employment of truſt; yet he could not refrain from excuſing himſelf by telling the Duke, that ſuch a Commiſſion was more fit to be given to a Page, than to a man of his Quality.
The Duke who wanted neither wit nor cunning, would not receive his innumerable excuſes, although I know but one which the Duke replyed to, which the Duke ſaid might have ſerv'd had his deſign been ſomething more than a private exact information86 of the Condition in which his kinſmen were at the Court of Poland; upon which informations depended all his affairs with that Kingdom, which when he was ſatisfied of from his private voyage thither, he ſhould then proceed to the publick Embaſſie to the Poliſh King, in which he made choice of him; and to that end had given him firſt this private Commiſſion, as moſt fit for his deſignes, and therefore he order'd him to go as ſoon as he could poſſibly get himſelf in readineſs for ſuch a Voyage; to which the Earl gave no further reply but that he ſhould do all in his power to be ready to ſerve his Highneſs that hour he ſhould appoint him for this journey; in which, he plainly diſcover'd he had no good will for him.
In the beginning this order to go for Poland troubled him very much, and put a thouſand Fancies in his head, and repreſented many things to the trouble of his ſoul; but at laſt, after having well conſider'd it, he concluded it better for him to abſent himſelf than to ſtay and break his heart, by being an eye-witneſs of all the impudencies87 of his wife with the Duke, which were come to that paſs, that they made no ſcruple, ſcarce, before his face: but that kinſman of his, which I ſpoke of before, who was aged, and an experienc'd man in all the intrigues of Court, and therefore had ſo diſſwaded the Earl from this Marriage, he having ſmelt the Dukes intention, and heard the report that the Earl was to be ſent into Poland; as he was Elder than the Earl, ſo he ſpoke with more aſſurance, and without flattery told him, I ſee very well that horns will be very cheap. To which the Earl replyed, Cuckold for Cuckold, it is better to have horns made behind the back then before the Face.
The Earl had fifteen days given him to prepare for his Voyage, during which he took care of all things neceſſary for ſuch a journey; he took leave of all his Friends, but in a manner told them that he gave them the laſt adieu: his brothers in law counſelled him to ſerve his Highneſs with much zeal and affection; but he felt very well where his ſhoe wrung him, and thought within himſelf that all their Counſels had88 no other end but, The diſhonour of his wife their own Siſter. In the mean time, he could ſo well act his part, and diſſembled ſo well, that no body imagin'd that he went to Poland againſt his will, he appear'd ſo gay and pleaſant; none would have believ'd, but that he made this Voyage with all the ſatiſfaction in the world. The Counteſs appear'd very indifferent to all this, and ſeem'd to be neither well nor ill pleaſed at it, knowing well that all ſhe could have ſaid would have been diſtruſted, and therefore ſhe ſpoke nothing to her Husband but equivocally upon that ſubject, being certain that he was not ignorant that in all things ſhe had no intentions but thoſe of pleaſing the Duke; ſhe was more than convinc'd that her Husband believ'd not one word ſhe ſaid to him, although ſhe had forc'd herſelf to appear very much afflicted at his depart; and to expreſs her joy the durſt not, believing with reaſon that exceſs of Folly would have given too publick a ſcandal to the World; however ſhe aſſur'd him, that the Duke intended to raiſe him to the higheſt Dignities the89 State and Court were capable of, and that the Service which his Highneſs now deſir'd from him was, To open a way to greater Honours, to which he had deſign'd him.
The Earl then parted from Caſal in the Moneth of April, accompanied by his wifes elder brother as far as Mantua, where after he had receiv'd his Highneſs orders he paſſed the Mountains, and went on his journey.
The ſame day the Duke diſpatcht a Meſſenger to the Counteſs with this note,
THe Earl is gon this Morning for Poland, where he will do nothing, and I intend to go from hence within two dayes, to a place where I hope to do ſomething. I ſhall reſt contented when no body works in thy Garden, which is onely worthy the labour of Princes; excuſe me if I ſpeak ſo freely, do thou be mine, and for me, I ſhall be always thine, in ſpight of all thoſe that would trouble either of us; expect me with the ſame90 deſire I have to ſee thee, and be mine, as I am thine,
It will not be unneceſſary in this place to conclude the ſtory of the Earl, becauſe we ſhall not henceforward have more occaſions of mentioning him; I will tell you then, that he continued in Poland two Moneths without doing any thing; having not receiv'd all the remembrances, and inſtructions neceſſary touching his Negotiations, although the Duke had given him his word to ſend them to him, but it was but a Pretext, to gain time; becauſe the Poſts that went from Mantua to Poland, went lazily, and arrived there but as late as poſſibly they could; whil'ſt in the mean time the Earl knew but too well for what reaſon the Duke had ſent him ſo far off, and into a place where he was oblig'd to be his own Comforter for all his Misfortunes; but what afflicted him moſt was, That the Duke ſent him not ſo much as the particular Inſtructions, whereby he might acquit himſelf91 aright of his Commiſſion in the Court of Poland, and alſo ſent him no money, without which it is impoſſible for ſtrangers to do any thing, and having it, they compaſs any thing: and therefore at laſt, he writ to the Duke and alſo his Wife theſe Letters following, which he ſent by Paris:
I Yet ſtay for thoſe Letters of diſpatch, which your Highneſs made me hope I ſhould receive in this Kingdom, and yet I have not ſeen them, although two Moneths are paſs'd ſince I arrived in this Kingdom, beſides the days were ſpent in my journey hither; I have much ſhame and confuſion at being here and having no imployment, not being able to ſerve your Highneſs like a true and faithful Vaſsal: Therefore in all humility I deſire your Highneſs to ſend me with ſpeed ſomething to do, that I may teſtifie to you, with what fidelity Perſons of my Quality uſually ſerve their Sovereign, who wiſh all proſperity92 to your Highneſs, which you deſerve, I am
The other Letter which at the ſame time he ſent to his wife was in theſe words,
I Am ſo angry and ſo unſatisfied in being in a ſtrange Countrey, from my own Houſe, abſent from my wife, and without money, that if I had two ſouls, I would willingly give one to the Devil. His Highneſs ſent me hither with aſſurance that the Inſtructions neceſſary for me, and the Bills of Exchange, ſhould certainly follow me; but ſeeing the contrary, I know not who to complain to, and cannot but think that I was ſent hither on no deſign, but of being rid of me. I would93 nevertheleſs flatter my ſelf, if it were poſsible, with the belief that the length of the way might perhaps be the cauſe of the ſlowneſs of my Letters, and hinder'd them from coming ſo ſoon as I expected; but for all that I cannot but afflict my ſelf, not being ignorant that thoſe people, who make uſe of my houſe in my abſence, divert themſelves, whil'ſt in the mean time I am ſuffering in the houſes of others; it troubles me not to be here, but I am vext that I have not that which was promiſed; I pray thee ſolicite his Highneſs, and ſpeak to him by word of mouth, if he is at Caſal, or by Letter, if he be at Mantua, that I may receive ſatisfaction, and the Duke may be ſerved; till now I have not had opportunity of ſeeing any Lady, therefore I can ſay nothing to thee of their humours nor inclinations at preſent. This is all I can write to thee this day, deferring the reſt to another opportunity. Adieu, I embrace thee.
But let the Earl write as many Letters as he pleas'd, he ſtaid fifteen Moneths in Poland, always waiting to receive his Orders, ſcarce once ſeeing94 in all that time the Marqueſs of Gonzague, or at leaſt once ſaluting him from the Duke: he bit his fingers every day in deſpight of his being ſo cheated, he writ and writ again, but to no purpoſe in the world, and receiv'd no anſwer to all his Epiſtles but fair words, and to no end; which the Duke caus'd his Secretary to write, which circumſtance aggravated the Earls vexation, and put him out of himſelf. In fine, ſeeing he could do nothing in that Court for the ſervice of his Highneſs, and that the Duke his Maſter had very little buſineſs to treat of in that place, he made new requeſts to him, which he often repeated, for his conſent to his return to Caſal, with proteſtations of his being more ſerviceable to his Highneſs at Caſal than at Poland, where he did nothing either for the Duke or himſelf, as he thought, whil'ſt in the mean time that poor man render'd all the ſervice required from him, ſince there was nothing deſired from him but his abſence.
The great Liberty with which theſe two Lovers diverted themſelves together in the abſence of the Earl, made95 them invent all the means poſſible to prolong it; and ſince he renewed his deſires and preſt ſo much his return, through wearineſs of his ſtaying idle in the Court of Poland. The Duke being reſolute for his abſence a longer time, deviſed another plot worſe than the former.
He ordain'd then the Earl by expreſs Letters, That he ſhould go to the Capitol City of Perſia, where he pretended he ſhould ſtay there ſome Moneths in the quality of an Embaſſadour, becauſe the intereſt of his State required ſome Correſpondence with that King, and to engage the Earl to this, he promiſed him mountains and wonders, aſſuring him that if his deſignes ſucceeded by his Negotiation, he ſhould want no Honours and Recompences, there being none after that ſuch ſervice which he might not pretend to for himſelf or his heirs.
The Duke ſent him there Orders, with a Letter of Exhortation, and commanded alſo his Secretary, and his wives brothers to write to him. They obeyed the Duke, and ſent to this poor baniſh'd man Letters full of Flatteries96 to animate him to the Dukes ſervice, with all the affection imaginable, and fail'd not to aggravate to the Earl the honours which they preſumed would accrew to him by this voyage.
When the Earl receiv'd this Order, one would have thought the Devil had taken him by the Coller; he eat his fingers with rage, and who ever had ſeen him would have thought he would alſo have devour'd his Letters, he begun to beat his valet de Chamber, to diſcharge ſome of his Choller upon him, and that which was moſt vexatious in this buſineſs, he was the more inflam'd by the believing his reſentments ſo juſt and his extream paſſion lawful, he ſaw plainly that the Dukes onely end was to make him die of want in that long and painful voyage, that afterwards he might injoy his wife with greater Liberty; he could not imagine any way what affairs the Dukes of Mantua could have with the Kings of Perſia, ſo that preſs'd with grief he took a reſolution of ſending his footman into Italy with the ſame Letters which he had received from the Duke, reſerving to himſelf97 onely the Bills of Exchange, without giving himſelf the trouble to write to the Duke ſo much as one word of excuſe, nevertheleſs he gave this ſervant of his two Letters of tranſport, one for his Wife, the other for his Brother in Law; The firſt was this,
I Refrained hitherto thoſe lawful reproaches I could have made to thy diſſolute life, for fear of publiſhing thoſe crimes, which at leaſt ought to be conceal'd; but ſince thy impudencies go ſo far, as to deſtroy, I do not ſay, the quiet of my mind, (for it never teſted any ſince my cruel deſtiny joyn'd me to thee,) but that of my ſoul, which thou perſecuteſt even unto the fartheſt places of the world. I think my ſelf oblig'd now to let thee know, that I was never blind as thou believedſt me, but if I pretended to be ſo, 'twas an effect of my Prudence; I complain not of the Duke who perſecutes98 me for thy ſake; I complain of thy diſloyalty to thy Husband. Why didſt thou marry, wicked woman as thou art, if thy intentions were to be always diſhoneſt? Thou deceivedſt thy ſelf if thou did'ſt believe that at the beginnings of our Marriage I did not perceive thy abominable amour; I knew, I ſaw with great regret, although I counterfeited ignorance, and pretended neither to ſee, nor hear, nor underſtand. It might have ſufficed thee to have diſhonour'd me at Caſal, without being ſo cruel as to drive me out of Italy. Doſt thou think I believe that all theſe pretended honours are conferr'd upon me for any other end, but in conſideration of thy impudent diſhoneſt life, to mock and abuſe my ſimplicity? I underſtand it well enough, and would to God I did not at all. I forſake the name and quality of Husband, being forc'd to abandon my wife. I ſhould be the baſeſt of men to go about to ſerve a Prince, who flatters me with imaginary honours, whilſt in effect he diſhonours me: Yes, I hope to find a happier Fortune in Barbary than in my native Countrey; and I believe that the Inhabitants of that Countrey will not99 have ſo much cruelty for me, as my Wife and my own Prince have ſhewed me in Italy; Yes, yes, I renounce thee for my wife, ſince thou wilt be a whore, and I am reſolv'd to fly thy preſence eternally, that the world may not believe I conſent to thy diſorders. I confeſs I need not complain of thee, becauſe it is my ſelf I ought to blame for all my misfortunes, having been ſufficiently warned by my friends and kindred of all that I have ſuffer'd by thee, and the diſhonour thou wouldſt bring me. But in fine, ſince my deſtiny has ſent this for my ruine, I run very willingly to it; and do not thou think to eſcape puniſhment, which will come upon thee one day, when thou dream'ſt not of it, and although the chaſtiſements of Adulterers is, like thine, deferr'd, yet it is ſure to tome; go, God will revenge me, and puniſh thee.
He finiſh'd his Letter to the Counteſs in theſe words without Subſcription, and ſent it with another to his Brother-in-law writ in theſe terms,
THere is nothing I ſhould leſs have credited, than that Brothers born of an illuſtrious Bloud would have