were the only topicks of conversation; and all agreed, that I could not but be extremely blest in such a husband. Betwixt the variety of company and discourse, my spirits were so much hurried, that I had no leisure for reflection; and Lorenzo was either not remembered, or in such a manner as to be no hindrance to the completing the wishes of his rival. We were married about eight at night by my father's chaplain, and after a magnificent colation put to bed. But here, what the noise and bustle of the day repelled, the silence of the night called back; not Caprera, bur Lorenzo, was now the subject of my meditations, and it was in vain that that obliging husband repeated the vow he had given before the priest in a more soft and endearing manner, than those who had the ordering of the ceremony had ever tenderness enough to form; the absent lover took up all my thoughts; and that reluctance with which I suffered his embraces, was not, as he then imagined, owing to a virgin bashfulness, but to the ardency of my wishes for another. I now found that love had not lost the least ground in my heart, and having but by the extremity of my fear, been compelled a while to screen its influence, those fears removed, blazed out again with the same violence as ever. Never was there a more unhappy bride. The night I past in tears, and early in the morning I forsook my bed, in spite of the count's endeavours to detain me; and going into my closet with my favourite woman, disburthened some part of the heavy anguish of my soul in complaints: fain would I have written to Lorenzo, to acquaint him with what I had been compelled to do, and entreat his pardon for my breach of vow; but could not venture to do it while he remained at so great a distance, not thinking it safe to trust a letter of that consequence to the post. With the utmost impatience I longed for his return, flattering myself that I should be more at ease, when he should let me know he had forgiven my involuntary crime. In languishments unbecoming the character of a wife,
