 sudden death of his mistress, had affected him very
severely. The duke found him upon the bed of sickness. His attendants expressed
serious apprehensions for his life; but the uncle entertained not the same
fears. He was of opinion, and not unwisely, that »men have died, and worms have
ate them, but not for love!« He therefore flattered himself, that however deep
might be the impression made upon his nephew's heart, time and Virginia would be
able to efface it. He now hastened to the afflicted youth, and endeavoured to
console him: he sympathised in his distress, but encouraged him to resist the
encroachments of despair. He allowed, that he could not but feel shocked at an
event so terrible, nor could he blame his sensibility; but he besought him not
to torment himself with vain regrets, and rather to struggle with affliction,
and preserve his life, if not for his own sake, at least for the sake of those
who were fondly attached to him. While he laboured thus to make Lorenzo forget
Antonia's loss, the duke paid his court assiduously to Virginia, and seized
every opportunity to advance his nephew's interest in her heart.
    It may easily be expected that Agnes was not long without enquiring after
Don Raymond. She was shocked to hear the wretched situation to which grief had
reduced him; yet she could not help exulting secretly, when she reflected that
his illness proved the sincerity of his love. The duke undertook the office
himself, of announcing to the invalid the happiness which awaited him. Though he
omitted no precaution to prepare him for such an event, at this sudden change
from despair to happiness, Raymond's transports were so violent, as nearly to
have proved fatal to him. These once passed, the tranquillity of his mind, the
assurance of felicity, and above all, the presence of Agnes, (who was no sooner
re-established by the care of Virginia and the marchioness, than she hastened to
attend her lover) soon enabled him to overcome the effects of his late dreadful
malady. The calm of his soul communicated itself to his body, and he recovered
with such rapidity as to create universal surprise.
    Not so Lorenzo. Antonia's death, accompanied with such terrible
circumstances, weighed upon his mind heavily. He was worn down to a shadow;
nothing could give him pleasure. He was persuaded with difficulty to swallow
nourishment sufficient for the support of life, and a consumption was
apprehended. The society of Agnes formed his only comfort. Though accident had
never permitted their being much together
