Love in Excess

Despite his initial belief that he is immune to love, D’elmont immediately falls for Melliora, whose name is a version of the Latin word for “better,” implying her position as superior to Alovisa, and the woman whom he should have chosen. The initial encounter between D’elmont and Melliora both highlights and adds nuance to the theme of The Power of Passion. D’elmont is first struck by Melliora’s appearance, such that “this insensible began to feel the power of beauty” (86), but the encounter quickly becomes one of wordless but mutual recognition: “[H]e sympathized in all her sorrows, and was ready to join his tears with hers” (86). Unlike Alovisa’s intense but ultimately self-focused obsession, D’elmont and Melliora’s love for one another is marked as an emotional bond, not simply passion and desire.

Melliora is presented as the opposite of Alovisa: She is sheltered, vulnerable, and almost childlike, since her father transfers guardianship to D’elmont so that she can be protected. D’elmont’s status as Melliora’s guardian might prefigure his eventual role as her husband, but it also positions him as a paternal figure and establishes a clear power imbalance between the two. However, the love and desire between the two characters is mutual: Both are frustrated because there is no way for them to be together, and because D’elmont married recklessly rather than waiting for the experience of true love. The narrator describes how “the same hour which gave birth to [Melliora’s] passion, commenced an adequate despair, and killed her hopes just budding” (88), juxtaposing language associated with hope, birth, and new beginnings with language associated with sterility and death.

D’elmont experiences some character development after falling in love. He becomes much more sympathetic to Amena, recognizing the suffering she must have felt when he trifled with her emotions: “[W]hat before he would have laughed at, and perhaps despised, now filled him with remorse and serious anguish” (92). On the other hand, D’elmont becomes more callous and selfish in his treatment of Alovisa, relying on the rationale that he is now driven by the force of true love. As soon as Alovisa suspects that her husband is enamored with someone else, she becomes enraged and intensely jealous: She is described “t[earing] the letter into a thousand pieces, and was not much less unmerciful to her hair and garments” (96). Haywood’s background as a stage actor might inform her melodramatic depiction of Alovisa as the jealous and bereaved woman, using the traditional exaggerated gestures used onstage to convey her emotions at losing her husband’s affection.

Alovisa’s wrath is presented as the consequence of her excessive passion, adding a cautionary note to the unfolding of the plot and contributing a new dimension to the Constraints on Female Desire. While Alovisa has won D’elmont in marriage, his rapid transfer of affection from her to Melliora leaves her once again in a position of frustrated desire and longing. Alovisa is sometimes the object of ridicule, with D’elmont making harsh comments such as, “I am that wretched thing a husband” (99) while calling her “a very wife!—insolent—jealous—and censorious!” (99). Alovisa is thus in a position where any attempts to assert her own desire for her husband are met with further rejection and resentment from D’elmont.

This negative representation of married life in which both characters are trapped, unhappy, and resentful provides a striking counterpoint to the idealized wooing that takes place amongst lovers who are not yet married. Alovisa and D’elmont’s marriage may be doomed because it was undertaken with improper motivations, but Haywood also nods towards the notion of change and unpredictability: “’twas time for Fortune, who long enough had smiled, now to turn her wheel” (84). The growing unhappiness between them develops the theme of Fickleness Versus Unchanging Love, showing that parties in the same relationship can have varying experiences: Alovisa suffers so intensely precisely because her feelings remain as intense as ever, while any affection and desire felt by D’elmont fades quickly.

Along with becoming unable to sympathize with Alovisa’s perspective, D’elmont is selfishly determined to have sex with Melliora regardless of the consequences for her. With Amena, D’elmont was willing to use deception and false pretenses but didn’t seem to consider outright force, while his encounters with Melliora show him becoming bolder and more aggressive. When D’elmont sneaks into Melliora’s bedchamber, he begins undressing and fondling her. She explicitly begs him to stop: “unless you wish to see me dead, a victim to your cruel, fatal passion, I beg you to desist” (117). D’elmont refuses, claiming that Melliora is only pretending to resist, accusing her of “seeming coiness (coyness)” (117). Both the character of D’elmont and the narrator connect masculinity to an inability to exert self-control while experiencing sexual arousal: The narrator breaks in to note, “I believe there are very few men, how stoical soever they pretend to be, that in such tempting circumstances would not have lost all thoughts” (117), and D’elmont exclaims that, if he were to stop, “how justly would’st thou scorn my easie tameness; my dulness, unworthy of the name of lover, or even of man!” (117). This scene presents a dangerous perspective on masculine desire, revealing how high the stakes truly are for female characters trying to navigate autonomy, consent, and their own emotions.

The conflict around D’elmont’s desire for Melliora is heightened by interference from the secondary characters D’espernay and Melantha. While D’elmont and Alovisa are complex characters with both flaws and admirable qualities, D’espernay and Melantha are more traditional villains. D’espernay typifies the figure of “the rake,” the promiscuous playboy who heartlessly collects sexual triumphs for the sake of ego. He is motivated by his own desire to sow conflict within the marriage of D’elmont and Alovisa, and also by a sense that, as men, both he and D’elmont are entitled to have their desires gratified at all times. D’espernay incites D’elmont into a colder and more ruthless attitude towards his pursuit of Melliora. D’elmont’s susceptibility to D’espernay’s influence shows how masculinity and ego impact his behavior: He believes that, as a man, he should act a certain way, and this belief motivates him to behave much more aggressively towards Melliora. Prior to the scene in which D’elmont assaults Melliora, ignoring her pleas for him to stop, D’espernay has riled up his friend with claims that “women deny what most they covet” (113), and therefore Melliora’s “no” really means “yes.”

Melantha functions as the female counterpart to her brother. Like him, she readily engages in manipulation and schemes. As with virtually every other woman who meets him, Melantha seems to desire D’elmont, but unlike Melliora, Amena, and Alovisa, Melantha is the first female character depicted as motivated by lust rather than love. Melantha doesn’t have the same passion that drove Alovisa in her pursuit of D’elmont, being more driven by ego, spite, and pure physical desire. Melantha and D’espernay introduce a different level of danger and treachery into the plot because they are genuine bad actors, rather than simply love-struck and foolish individuals making poor decisions.