"The entire Confidence he always had of her Love and Virtue was now in as full Force as ever; and all those Notions which had crowded into his Soul at his first coming into the Chamber, and beholded so unexpected, and, indeed, so distracting a Sight, now vanish'd, and were no more remember'd"

— Haywood [née Fowler], Eliza (1693?-1756)

1723, 1725
"The entire Confidence he always had of her Love and Virtue was now in as full Force as ever; and all those Notions which had crowded into his Soul at his first coming into the Chamber, and beholded so unexpected, and, indeed, so distracting a Sight, now vanish'd, and were no more remember'd"
Metaphor in Context
Thus all Things for a while went smoothly on, till one unhappy Day had like to have made a total Discovery of her Falshood to him, whom it was most her Interest to deceive. Beauclair, as well as others of her Admirers, frequently visited her at Home; and happening to come one Afternoon, and finding her in her Bedchamber, no Company with her, the Baron [Page 188] abroad, and she in a loose Undress, (in which indeed she look'd most amiable,) he could not resist a sudden Inclination to make use of so favourable an Opportunity; and taking her in his Arms, and throwing her on the Bed, was about to repeat at Home what many Times she had condescended to Abroad: The Violence of his present Desire, and the Extacy she was in, to find him so much more than ordinarily transported, depriv'd them both of that Caution they were accustom'd to make use of: The Chamber-Door was only carelesly put to; and the Baron chancing to return, and come into that very Room, was struck with a Sight, which no other Witnesses but his own Eyes cou'd have convinc'd him had been true. He wou'd have drawn his Sword, and wash'd the Stain they cast upon his Honour with the Blood of both, but Astonishment took from him the Power. She was in a Posture, such as cou'd have left no other Woman a Possibility of Excuse; but so ready was she at Invention, and so cunning in deceiving, that even in this, the greatest Tryal she cou'd meet, she brought herself off with a Dexterity which prov'd how much she was Mistress of the Art of Jilting: Her Face lying toward that Side of the Room where her Husband enter'd, she had an Opportunity of seeing him immediately, and beforeBeauclair cou'd have any Imagination of the Truth, the Person who in his Arms that Moment was uttering Raptures, amaz'd him, on a sudden, with struggling to get loose, and crying out, Help! O help!----a Rape! ---Where are my Servants? --- Will none come to my Assistance? ---For Heaven's sake Monsieur desist:----I'll rather die than live to wrong the best of Men and Husbands. Then disengaging herself from his Embrace, and running to the Baron, (pretending not to have seen him before,) O my dear Lord! said she, how opportunely are you come to save me from Dishonour, from Ruin, from Death; for sure I wou'd have flown for Refuge to the latter, rather than have endur'd [Page 189] the former. The barbarous Man, (added she, bursting into well-dissembled Tears,) wou'd have depriv'd me of all I value Life for:----He wou'd have violated my Innocence,----corrupted my Duty,---- made me utterly unworthy of my dear Lord's Affection; ---and finding his impious Perswasions were in vain, he wou'd have forc'd me to the horrid Deed,----a Deed my Soul abhors!----a Deed which must have made me hateful both to Heaven and Earth! ----Oh! had I not been inspir'd for some Moments with an unusual Strength, and had not my Heart's Treasure, my dear, dear Baron, come to my Assistance just when that Strength began to fail, how wretched had I been! ----O be ever prais'd ye Saints and Angels! ye ministring Spirits, the Guardians of my Honour, for your Protection in this dreadful Hour! ----O still continue watchful o'er your Charge, and save me ever from Infamy and Guilt! She fell on her Knees, and pronounc'd these last Words in so exotic a Manner, and with a Countenance so exactly suited to every Thing she said, that Beauclair was much more startled at her Impiety and Dissimulation than he had been, when, rising from the Bed, he perceiv'd who it was that occasion'd it. The Scene must certainly have been pleasant enough to observe, if any disinterested Person had been Witness of it: To behold a couple of Men stand gazing on each other without Power of Speech or Motion, while a Woman was acting over a thousand various Passions in Gestures and Grimaces, suited to them all;---sometimes rejoicing at the Deliverance she pretended to have had;---sometimes feigning to look back with Horror on her past Danger;---now weeping, as it were, thro' Tenderness;---then exclaiming against the Baseness of Mankind;---with one Breathcursing her own Charms, for being the Occasion of inspiring loose Desires;---and with the next, blessing Heaven for giving her the Means of resisting them. The Surprise which both the Husband and Lover were in, gave her sufficient Opportunity to [Page 190] exercise her Talent; but as Beauclair was Master of a much greater Presence of Mind than the Baron, so he recollected himself much sooner; and perceiving the Lady was very capable of making her Party good with her believing Husband, thought, in such a Circumstance, the most prudent Action he cou'd do was to retire. The first Thing he had done after he started from the Bed was to snatch up his Sword, not doubting but he shou'd have occasion to make use of it; but finding he was not immediately call'd to the Account he expected, took the Advantage of the Baron's Confusion, and left him to adjust Matters with his Spouse, as they shou'd agree it between 'em, only telling him, as he went out of the Room, that if he imagin'd himself injur'd, he knew where to demand Satisfaction. He staid not for an Answer; nor had the other recover'd himself enough, as yet, to make one. He continu'd, for some Moments after Beauclair was gone, fix'd in the same stupid Posture he had been in ever since he came into the Room; till, at last, the hurried Spirits beginning by little and little to resume their proper Stations, he fetch'd a deep Sigh, and breaking from his Wife, who had all this while been holding him in her Arms, walk'd hastily to and fro, by that Action only discovering the inward Disorders that oppress'd him: But what is it that is not in the Power of a Person belov'd to accomplish? What a commanding Force there dwells in Tears, when flowing from the Eyes we worship! They give the Lye to Reason, and make our very Senses but unavailing Witnesses, when oppos'd to any Thing they wou'd insinuate. The tender-hearted Baron at first testify'd the secret Yieldings of his Soul but by a Look; but she, who perfectly understood the Language of the Eyes, immediately knew her Work was more than half compleated; and assuming an Air all full of Languishment and Softness, I have liv'd too long, said she, (in a dying, trembling Accent,) I have liv'd too long, since, my dear Lord, the only Man, Heav'n knows, I ever wish'd to please, regards me [Page 191] with Indifference:----Is this dumb Coldness, or this distant Posture a Proof of that Passion you have sworn shou'd be unchangeable, or a fit Welcome for a Wife, rescued by Providence from threaten'd Ruin? O my only Dear, my Love, my Life, my Husband, continu'd she, (seizing his Hand, and clapping it to her Mouth with a well counterfeited Transport,) take, take me to your Breast, or kill me. There needed no more to make the poor Baron quite besides himself; his Soul, before overcome by soft Emotions, now quite dissolv'd and melted in a Sea of Tenderness: He clasp'd the Syren in his faithful Arms, kiss'd her dissembling Lips; and while he spoke the fondest, most endearing Words that Tongue e'er utter'd, or Heart e'er conceiv'd, a Flood of honest Tears stream'd from his Eyes, and bath'd her treacherous Bosom. O thou art all Divine, cry'd he, in a Rapture, all Angel! thy Mind, like thy bright Body, charming! pure and untainted with any of the Frailties of thy Sex! dear to Reason, and ravishing to Sense! And then again, Let me no longer live than I adore thee, (pursued the affectionate Deluded,) thou Excellence!---thou lovely Abstract of all that's good in Woman! 'Tis not to be doubted but that she answered those tender Expressions, and return'd the Caresses he gave her, in a Manner which seem'd to him to proceed from, at least, an equal Ardency; and this Accident was so far from lessening her in his Esteem, that it made her, if possible, dearer than before. He was too little acquainted with Artifice himself, to imagine there was a Possibility for the woman he ador'd to be Mistress of so much: The entire Confidence he always had of her Love and Virtue was now in as full Force as ever; and all those Notions which had crowded into his Soul at his first coming into the Chamber, and beholded so unexpected, and, indeed, so distracting a Sight, now vanish'd, and were no more remember'd. Love, now triumphant Love! unmix'd with Fears, with Jealousies, or Doubts, blaz'd with Almighty Lustre, and struck all other [Page 192] Remonstrances dead. He thought he look'd into her very Soul, and found it all Perfection: Nothing that he cou'd wish were alter'd, except a little too much Freedom and Condescention in her Behaviour, which, tho' he believ'd altogether innocent and undesign'd, which he thought might have encourag'd Beauclair to hope greater Favours. He did not fail to acquaint her what his Sentiments were on that Score, and conjur'd her for the sake of his eternal Quiet, and her own Honour and Reputation, to endeavour to wear a more distant and reserv'd Air in her Conversation with those Men, whose Principles she was not perfectly assur'd of. This Advice, tho' accompanied with ten thousand soft Professions, and given with the greatest Complaisance, relish'd but ill with her who 'twas apply'd to; but she had Policy enough to conceal her Chagrin, pretended to think as he did, and assur'd him, in all the seeming good Humour imaginable, that for the future she would be more wary. But from that Moment she conceiv'd an inexpressible Hatred for him: If he had Eyes to see a Failing in her Conduct, she knew not, but in Time, he might gather Courage to condemn, or to controul it; and the bare Thoughts that there was a Possibility she might one Day be debarr'd from taking the Liberties she now enjoy'd, made her almost distracted: If this meddling Husband was to be no longer blinded, he must be remov'd. Murder was now the Employment of her Thoughts, and seem'd so absolutely necessary for the Security of her Pleasures, that she found no Shock, or such as she could easily pass over, in resolving to undertake it; and she would most certainly have found some Means to perpetrate her horrid Intentions, if her Agent in all mischevious Enterprizes, Du Lache, had not advis'd her to another, tho' almost as execrable, yet a less dangerous Method of gettlng rid of him. He procur'd a Potion compos'd of such pernicious Drugs, that tho' it wou'd not absolutely destroy Life, and drive the Soul from her tormented Habitation, yet it had that unhappy [Page 193] Effect on all the sensitive Faculties, as to reduce the Person who shou'd swallow it to a Condition little preferable to that of an Ideot.
Searching "soul" and "crowd" in HDIS (Prose)
At least 7 entries in ESTC (1723, 1724, 1725, 1732, 1742).

The Injur’d Husband; or, the Mistaken Resentment. A Novel. Written by Mrs. Eliza Haywood. (London: Printed for D. Brown, jun. at the Black Swan, without Temple-Bar; W. Chetwood, and J. Woodman, in Russel-Street Covent-Garden; and S. Chapman, in Pall-Mall, 1723). <Link to ESTC>

Text from Secret Histories, Novels and Poems. In Four Volumes. Written by Mrs. Eliza Haywood. 2nd ed. 4 vols. (London: Printed [partly by Samuel Aris] for Dan. Browne, jun. at the Black Swan without Temple-Bar ; and S. Chapman, at the Angel in Pall-Mall, 1725). <Link to ESTC>
Date of Entry

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.