intrigue, even without the tinsel of court dress and the
romance of French or Spanish setting, were acceptable to Eliza Haywood's
public is shown by the two parts of "The Masqueraders: or, Fatal
Curiosity" (1724-5), which in the most luscious language of passion
narrate the philanderings of a "charming Rover" called Dorimenus, "whose
real Name, for some Reasons, I shall conceal." London masquerades, as
the title indicates, play a large part in the plot. A more sprightly
tale, though still of the unedifying sort, is "Fantomina: or, Love in a
Maze. Being the Secret History of an Amour between two Persons of
Condition." The story is so fantastic that it can hardly be suspected of
having any connection with an actual occurrence, but the novelist was
not unaware of the advertising value of hinted scandal.

A young lady of distinguished birth, beauty, wit, and spirit for a
frolic goes masked to the theatre, and there falling in love with the
agreeable Beauplaisir, begins an intrigue with him. When his ardor
cools, she lures him on again under a different disguise, and thus
manages four several _liaisons_ successively as Fantomina, Celia the
Chambermaid, the Widow Bloomer, and the fair Incognita. Meanwhile she
meets her lover frequently in public assemblies without ever arousing
his suspicion of her double, or rather manifold identity. But at length
she is unable to disguise the effects of her imprudence, her gallant
ungallantly refuses to marry her, and the fair intriguer is packed off
to a convent in France.

Though the story cannot pretend to support the cause of morality, the
style of this piece is unusually clear and straightforward, sometimes
suitably periphrastic, but never inflated. The passion described is that
of real life ungarnished by romance. Only greater refinement was needed
to make the entertainment fit for ladies and gentlemen.

The cardinal defect of some of Mrs. Haywood's romances-in-little lay,
however, in a romantic over-refinement of the passions rather than in a
too vigorous animalism. Full of the most delicate scruples is "The
Surprise: or, Constancy Rewarded" (1724),[15] appropriately dedicated to
the Sir Galahad of comedy, Sir Richard Steele. The story relates how
Euphemia discovers that the seemingly faithless Bellamant has, in
reality, abandoned her on the day set for their marriage because he was
unwilling to have her share in the loss of his fortune. She, meanwhile,
has inherited a convenient s