 and lively
understanding, with the sweetest and most benign temper. This lovely creature
was about eighteen when I first unhappily beheld her at Rome, on a visit to a
relation with whom I had great intimacy. As our interviews at first were
extremely frequent, my passions were captivated before I apprehended the least
danger; and the sooner probably, as the young lady herself, to whom I consulted
every method of recommendation, was not displeased with my being her admirer.«
    »Ariadne, having spent three months at Rome, now returned to Naples, bearing
my heart with her: on the other hand, I had all the assurances consistent with
the constraint under which the most perfect modesty lays a young woman, that her
own heart was not entirely unaffected. I soon found her absence gave me an
uneasiness not easy to be borne or to remove. I now first applied to diversions
(of the graver sort, particularly to music), but in vain; they rather raised my
desires and heightened my anguish. My passion at length grew so violent, that I
began to think of satisfying it. As the first step to this, I cautiously
enquired into the circumstances of Ariadne's parents, with which I was hitherto
unacquainted: though, indeed, I did not apprehend they were extremely great,
notwithstanding the handsome appearance of their daughter at Rome. Upon
examination, her fortune exceeded my expectation, but was not sufficient to
justify my marriage with her, in the opinion of the wise and prudent. I had now
a violent struggle between wisdom and happiness, in which, after several
grievous pangs, wisdom got the better. I could by no means prevail with myself
to sacrifice that character of profound wisdom, which I had with such uniform
conduct obtained, and with such caution hitherto preserved. I therefore resolved
to conquer my affection, whatever it cost me; and indeed it did not cost me a
little.«
    »While I was engaged in this conflict (for it lasted a long time) Ariadne
returned to Rome: her presence was a terrible enemy to my wisdom, which even in
her absence had with great difficulty stood its ground. It seems (as she hath
since told me in Elysium with much merriment) I had made the same impressions on
her which she had made on me. Indeed, I believe my wisdom would have been
totally subdued by this surprize, had it not cunningly suggested to me a method
of satisfying my passion without doing any injury to my reputation. This was by
engaging her privately as a mistress, which was at that time reputable enough at
Rome, provided
