Love in Excess

D’espernay and Melantha continue to meddle in the plot, introducing additional chaos and confusion into a fraught context where emotions are running high for everyone involved. The scene in which D’elmont begins a sexual encounter with Melantha while mistaking her for Melliora is an example of a literary convention known as “the bed-trick,” in which a character is deceived into having sex with one person while believing that they are having sex with someone else. This device was regularly used in Renaissance drama: Examples can be found in a number of Shakespeare’s plays, including All’s Well That Ends Well, and Measure for Measure. The use of this device reflects Haywood’s background as an actor and playwright.

Within the context of the novel, the bed-trick is interesting because it challenges the claims characters make about the singularity and specificity of love and desire. Although D’elmont has been insistent that he loves Melliora in a way that he could not love any other woman, he can’t even recognize her body while having sex in the dark. Meanwhile, Melantha’s active participation in the bed-trick shows her going further than other female characters by welcoming the very thing that most other women in the novel resist: sex with a man who is not her husband, who is even married to someone else.

Alovisa’s intense jealousy leaves her susceptible to D’espernay’s manipulation, forcing her to once again navigate the complications surrounding the Constraints on Feminine Desire as she tries to win back her husband. D’espernay makes it clear that he will only reveal the identity of Alovisa’s rival once she has sex with him, stating, “dying with rapture, I will tell thee all” (147, emphasis added)—death was often used as a euphemism for orgasm. As someone who has schemed and lied herself, Alovisa’s entanglement with D’espernay can be seen as a kind of poetic justice. However, Alovisa is shrewd enough to be keenly aware that D’espernay is acting in his own best interest, and she counter-schemes to try to maintain her own advantage. Alovisa seems pragmatic in her awareness that D’espernay will rape her if she doesn’t willingly have sex with him, and she builds precautions into her plans accordingly. While Alovisa is actively scheming and trying to regain control over her deteriorating relationship with D’elmont, she also becomes the vulnerable object of masculine desire, rendering her more comparable to Melliora and Amena. Alovisa’s depiction as independent, capable, and assertive for so much of the novel is juxtaposed with the vulnerability she experiences while desperately relying on D’espernay and trying to protect herself at the same time.

The interference from Melantha and D’espernay leads to the violent confrontation that marks a turning point in the plot. The melodramatic and chaotic scene of characters running around in the dark and colliding with one another functions as a metaphor for the violent and tempestuous emotional lives of characters who carry love to an excessive degree. The ensuing violent deaths allow for poetic justice and for a “doubling” of the plot: By killing Alovisa and thus rendering D’elmont an eligible bachelor for the second time, Haywood can expand her novel and include a whole new series of romantic adventures and misadventures. As the villain who has encouraged D’elmont to be more forceful towards Melliora and who has posed the threat of rape towards Alovisa, D’espernay presents a genuinely malicious energy as opposed to D’elmont’s general gallantry. Alovisa’s death is more ambiguous: She is punished quite starkly for her passion and assertiveness, but she doesn’t love D’elmont any more intensely than many of the male characters appear to feel towards their objects of desire. Alovisa needs to be expunged from the text both to advance the plot and also to serve as a caution for women who might go too far in freely pursuing their desires.

By contrast, Melantha’s fate is less severe. She ends up in a marriage that will protect her reputation and social standing, with a husband who is seemingly prepared to look the other way as she “bring[s] him a child in seven months after the wedding” (159). Melantha’s storyline is important for revealing a very real concern for women deciding whether or not to risk an illicit relationship in an era before reliable contraception, as characters like Amena and Melliora would have risked not just emotional pain, but an illegitimate pregnancy as a result of dalliances with D’elmont. It is unclear whether Melantha became pregnant as a result of her encounter with D’elmont, which is presented as interrupted, and therefore the implication is that she likely had other lovers as well. Interestingly, Alovisa as a faithful woman who loved immoderately is punished with death, while Melantha, cooler and more calculating, is able to effectively “get away” with multiple pre-marital liaisons.

Alovisa is also portrayed as a complex character who might invite some sympathy because she is so insistent on maintaining her loyalty to her husband. At times, Alovisa appears to be someone who will do anything to get what she wants, but she is staunchly unwilling to have sex with anyone other than D’elmont. When Alovisa laments, “I love my husband still, with an unbated fondness doat upon him! Faithless and cruel as he is, he still is lovely!” (148), she aligns herself as a faithful and devoted wife, developing the theme of Fickleness Versus Unchanging Love. Ironically, Alovisa remains staunchly faithful to a man who does not share her scruples: D’elmont feels justified in pursuing an extramarital relationship because he believes his emotional bond with Melliora trumps his legal bond with Alovisa.

At the end of the novel’s second part, D’elmont and Melliora face a new challenge: They could legally marry, but social and moral implications make the situation more complex. Melliora “looked on herself as the most guilty person upon earth, as being the primary cause of all the misfortunes” (159), which shows her strong sense of responsibility. However, Melliora is arguably the only character who has not behaved badly by this point, and the fact that she still blames herself reveals stereotypes about gender and desire. D’elmont’s reckless desire is actually the “cause of all the misfortunes” (159), yet Melliora perceives herself as the one who should have taken a stronger moral stance. Melliora’s choice to withdraw to a convent parallels Amena’s decision to do the same at the end of Part 1, highlighting how D’elmont’s behavior has destructive consequences for the women who fall for him: At this juncture, one is dead, one is a nun (thereby renouncing the world of love and desire forever), and the third seems to be preparing to make a similar choice.