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his jealousy, as it shows you have a value for others besides himself; but the commendation of that which he himself wants inflames him more, as it shows that in some respects you prefer others before him. Jealousy is admirably described in this view by Horace in his ode to Lydia :1
Quum tu, Lydia, Telephi
Cervicem roseam, et cerea Telephi
Fervens difficili bile tumet jecur :
Certa sede manet; humor et in genas
Quam lentis penitus macerer ignibus.2
When Telephus his youthful charms,
1 6 'Lydia, part of which I find translated to my hand' (folio). 2 1 Ód. xiii. The MS. noticed above (No. 170) does not, of course, contain the opening paragraph of this paper. lines (except the last) are in Addison's writing; the translation in the third (unidentified) hand. The quotation from Juvenal (by Addison) took the place of one from Manilius, ' . . . amare parum est cupient et amare videri.' The words, and which is often practised by women of greater cunning than virtue,' are in the third handwriting. In other points, where revisions were made before republication in a collected edition, the MS. agrees with the folio issue.
The jealous man is not indeed angry, if you dislike another; but if you find those faults which are to be found in his own character, you discover not only your dislike of another but of himself. In short, he is so desirous of engrossing all your love, that he is grieved at the want of any charm which he believes has power to raise it; and if he finds, by your censures on others, that he is not so agreeable in your opinion as he might be, he naturally concludes you could love him better if he had other qualifications, and that by consequence your affection does not arise so high as he thinks it ought. If therefore his temper be grave or sullen, you must not be too much pleased with a jest, or transported with anything that is gay and diverting. If his beauty be none of the best, you must be a professed admirer of prudence, or any other quality he is master of, or at least vain enough to think he is.
In the next place, you must be sure to be free
and open in your conversation with him, and to let
in light upon your actions, to unravel all your designs, and discover every secret, however trifling or indifferent. A jealous husband has a particular aversion to winks and whispers, and if he does not see to the bottom of everything, will be sure to go beyond it in his fears and suspicions. He will always expect to be your chief confidant, and where he finds himself kept out of a secret, will believe there is more in it than there should be. And here it is of great concern that you preserve the character of your sincerity uniform and of a piece: for if he once finds a false gloss put upon any single action, he quickly suspects all the rest; his working imagination immediately takes a false hint, and runs off with it into several remote consequences, till he
has proved very ingenious in working out his own. misery.
If both these methods fail, the best way will be to let him see you are much cast down and afflicted for the ill opinion he entertains of you, and the disquietudes he himself suffers for your sake. sake. There are many who take a kind of barbarous pleasure in the jealousy of those who love them, that insult over an aching heart, and triumph in their charms which are able to excite so much uneasiness.
Ardeat ipsa licet tormentis gaudet amantis.—Juv.1
But these often carry the humour so far, till their affected coldness and indifference quite kills all the fondness of a lover, and are then sure to meet in their turn with all the contempt and scorn that is due to so insolent a behaviour. On the contrary, it is very probable a melancholy, dejected carriage, the usual effects of injured innocence, may soften the jealous husband into pity, make him sensible of the wrong he does you, and work out of his mind. all those fears and suspicions that make you both unhappy. At least it will have this good effect, that he will keep his jealousy to himself, and repine in private, either because he is sensible it is a weakness, and will therefore hide it from your knowledge, or because he will be apt to fear some ill effect it may produce, in cooling your love towards him, or diverting it to another.
There is still another secret that can never fail, if you can once get it believed, and which is often practised by women of greater cunning than virtue : this is to change sides for a while with the jealous man, and to turn his own passion upon himself; to
1 Sat. vi. 208.
take some occasion of growing jealous of him, and to follow the example he himself hath set you. This counterfeited jealousy will bring him a great deal of pleasure, if he thinks it real; for he knows experimentally how much love goes along with this passion, and will besides feel1 something like the satisfaction of a revenge, in seeing you undergo all his own tortures. But this, indeed, is an artifice so difficult, and at the same time so disingenuous, that it ought never to be put into practice, but by such as have skill enough to cover the deceit, and innocence to render it excusable.
I shall conclude this essay with the story of Herod and Mariamne, as I have collected it out of Josephus,2 which may serve almost as an example to whatever can be said on this subject.
Mariamne had all the charms that beauty, birth, wit, and youth could give a woman, and Herod all the love that such charms are able to raise in a warm and amorous disposition. In the midst of this his fondness for Mariamne, he put her brother to death, as he did her father not many years after. The barbarity of the action was represented to Marc Antony, who immediately summoned Herod into Egypt, to answer for the crime that was there laid to his charge. Herod attributed the summons to Antony's desire of Mariamne, whom therefore before his departure he gave into the custody of his uncle Joseph, with private orders to put her to death, if any such violence was offered to himself. Joseph was much delighted with Mariamne's conversation, and endeavoured with all his art and rhetoric to set out the excess of Herod's passion
1. With it, and will receive' (folio).
2 Book xv. chaps. iii., vii.
for her; but when he still found her cold and incredulous, he inconsiderately told her, as a certain instance of her lord's affection, the private orders he had left behind him, which plainly showed, according to Joseph's interpretation, that he could neither live nor die without her. This barbarous instance
of a wild unreasonable passion quite put out, for a time, those little remains of affection she still had for her lord: her thoughts were so wholly taken up with the cruelty of his orders, that she could not consider the kindness that produced them, and therefore represented him in her imagination rather under the frightful idea of a murderer than a lover. Herod was at length acquitted and dismissed by Marc Antony, when his soul was all in flames for his Mariamne; but before their meeting he was not a little alarmed at the report he had heard of his uncle's conversation and familiarity with her in his absence. This therefore was the first discourse he entertained her with, in which she found it no easy matter to quiet his suspicions. But at last he appeared so well satisfied of her innocence, that from reproaches and wranglings he fell to tears and embraces. Both of them wept very tenderly at their reconciliation, and Herod poured out his whole soul to her in the warmest protestations of love and constancy; when amidst all his sighs and languishings she asked him, whether the private orders he left with his uncle Joseph were an instance of such an inflamed affection. The jealous king was immediately roused at so unexpected a question, and concluded his uncle must have been too familiar with her, before he would have discovered such a secret. In short, he put his uncle to death, and very difficultly prevailed himself to spare Mariamne.