LETTERS

This Letter was found in pieces torn.

LETTERS FROM A NOBLE MAN TO HIS SISTER:
The Second Part by the same Hand.
The ARGVMENT.

AT the end of the first Part of these Letters, we le [...]t Philander impatient­ly wa [...]ng on the Sea shore for the approach of the lovely Silvia; who accordingly came to him [Page 2] drest like a youth, to secure her self from a discovery. They staid not long to caress each other, but he taking the welcome Maid in his Arms, with a transported joy bore her to a small Vessel, that lay ready near the Beach, where with only Brilljard and two Men Servants, they put to Sea, and past into Holland, lan­ding at the nearest Port; where after having refresht themselves for two or three days, they past forward towards the Brill. Sil­via still remaining under that a­miable disguise; but in their pas­sage from Town to Town, which is sometimes by Coach, and other times by Boat, they chanc'd one day to incounter a young Hol­lander of a more than Ordinary Gallantry, (for that Country so degenerate from good manners and almost common Civility, [Page 3] and so far short of all the good qualities that made themselves appear in this young Noble Man. He was very handsom, well made, well drest, and very well attended; and whom we will call Octavio, and who, young as he was, was one of the States of Holland; he spoke admirable good French, and had a vivacity and quickness of Wit unusual with the Natives of that part of the World, and almost above all the rest of his Sex: Philander and Silvia having already agreed for the Cabin of the Vessel that was to carry them to the next Stage, Octavio came too late to have any place there but amongst the common crow'd; which the Master of the Vessel, who knew him was much troubl'd at, and addrest himself as civilly as he cou'd to Philander to beg permis­sion for one Stranger of quality [Page 4] to dispose of himself in the Cabin for that day: Phillander being well enough pleas'd, so to make an ac­quaintance with some of power of that Country, readily consented, and Octavia enter'd with an address so graceful and obliging, that at first sight he inclin'd Phillanders heart to a friendship with him, and on the other side the lovely person of Phillander, the quality that appear'd in his face and mein ob­lig'd Octavio to become no less his admirer. But when he salu­ted Silvia, who appear'd to him a youth of quality, he was extreamly charm'd with her pret­ty gayety, and an unusual Air and life in her address and motion, he felt a secret joy and pleasure play about his Soul he knew not why; And was almost angry that he felt such an emotion for a youth, tho the most lovely that he e­ver [Page 5] saw: After the first comply­ments, they fell into discourse of a thousand indifferent things; and if he were pleas'd at first sight with the two Lovers, he was whol­ly charm'd by their conversation; especially that of the amiable youth; who well enough pleas'd with the young Stranger, or else hitherto having met nothing so accomplisht in her short Travels, and indeed despairing to meet a­ny such; she put on all her gay­ety and charms of Wit, and made as absolute a Conquest as 'twas possible for her suppos'd Sex to do over a man, who was a great admirer of the other; and surely the lovely Maid never appear'd so charming and desirable as that day; they din'd together in the Cabin, and after dinner repos'd on little Matresses by each others side, where every motion, every [Page 6] Limb as carelessly she lay, disco­ver'd a thousand Graces and more and more inslam'd the now be­ginning Lover; she cou'd not move▪ nor smile, nor speak, nor or­der any charm about her, but had some peculiar Grace that begun to make him uneasie; and from a thousand little Modesties both in her blushes and motions he had a secret hope she was not what she seem'd, but of that Sex whereof she discover'd so many softnesses and beauties; tho to what advantage that hope wou'd amount to his repose, was yet a disquiet he had not consider'd nor [...]elt: Nor cou'd he by any fondness between them or indis­cretion of love, conceive how the lovely Strangers were alied; he only hop'd, and had no thoughts of fear, or any thing that cou'd check his new begin­ning [Page 7] flame. While thus they past the after-noon, they ask'd a thousand questions. Our Lovers of the Country and manners, and their security and civility to Strangers; to all which Octavio answer'd as a man, who wou'd recommend the place and persons purely to oblige their stay; for now self interest makes him say all things in favour of it; and of his own friendship, offers them all the service of a Man of power, and who cou'd make an interest in those that had more than him­self; much he protested, much he offer'd, and yet no more than he design'd to make good on all oc­casions, which they receiv [...]d with an acknowledgment, that plainly discover'd a generosity and qua­lity above the common rate of Men; so that finding in each other occasions for Love and friendship, [Page 8] they mutually profest it, and nobly entertain'd it. Octavio told his Name and quality, left nothing unsaid that might confirm the Lovers of his sincerity. This begot a confidence in Phillander, who in return told him so much of his Circumstances as su [...]ic'd to let him know he was a person so unfortunate to have occa­sion'd the displeasure of his King against him, and that he cou'd not continue with any repose in that Kingdom, whose Monarch thought him no longer [...]it for those ho­nours he had before receiv'd; Octavio renew'd his protestations of serving him, with his interest and fortune, which the other receiving with all the Gallant modesty of an unfortunate Man, they came a shore where Octavio's Co [...]ches and Equipage waiting his com­ing to conduct him to his house, he offer'd his new friends the best [Page 9] of 'em to carry them to their lodging, which he had often prest might be his own Pallace, but that being refus'd as too great an honour, he wou'd himself see them plac'd in some one, which he thought might be most suta­ble to their quality; they ex­cus'd the trouble, but he prest too eagerly to be deny'd, and he condu­cted them to a Merchants house not far from his own, so Love had contriv'd for the better ma­nagement of this new affair of his heart, which he resolv'd to persue, be the fair object of what sex soever; but after having well enough recomended em to the care of the Merchant he thought it justice to leave em to their rest, tho with abundance of reluctancy. So took his leave of both the Lovely Strangers and went to his own home: and after [Page 10] [...] hasty supper got himself put to bed: not to sleep; for now he had other business: Love took him now to task, and ask'd his heart a thousand questions. Then 'twas he found the Idea of that fair unknown had absolute possession there: Nor was he at all dis­pleas'd to find he was a captive; his youth and quality promise his hopes, a thousand advantages above all other men: but when he re [...]lected on the Beauty of Phil­lander, on his Charming youth and Conversation, and every Grace that adorns a Conqueror, he grew inflam'd, disorderd, restless, angry, and out of Love with his own attractions; consider'd every Beauty of his own person and found 'em, or at least thought 'em infinitly short of those of his now Fancy'd Rival, yet 'twas a Rival that he cou'd not hate nor did his [Page 11] passion abate one thought of his Friendship for Phillander, but rather more increas'd it, inso­much that he once resolv'd it shou'd surmount his Love if possible, at least he left it on the upper hand▪ till time shou'd make a better di­covery. When tir'd with thought we'l suppose him a [...]leep, and see how our Lovers far'd. Who being lodg'd all on one Stair Case (that is Phillander, Silvia, and Brilljard) it was not hard for the Lover to steal into the longing Arms of the expecting Silvia; no fatigues of tedious journeys and little voyages had a bated her fondness or his vigour, the night was like the first, all joy! all transport! Briljard lay so near as to be a witness to all their sighs of Love, and little soft murmurs, who now began from a servant to be permitted as an humble com­panion; [Page 12] since he had had the Ho­nour of being marry'd to Silvia, tho yet he durst not lift his eyes or thoughts that way: yet it might be perceiv'd he was me­lancholy and sullen, when e're he saw their daliances, nor cou'd he know the joys his Lord nightly stole, without an im­patience, which if but minded or known perhaps had cost him his life: he began from the thoughts she was his wife, to fancy [...]ine injoyment, to fancy Authority which he durst not asume. And often wisht his Lord woud grow cold as possessing Lovers do; that then he might advance his hope, when he shou'd ever abandon or slight her: he cou'd not see her kist without blushing with resentment, but if he has assis [...]ed to undress him for her bed, he was ready to dy [Page 13] with anger, and wou'd grow sick and leave the office to himself, he cou'd not see her naked charmes, her armes streatcht out to receive a Lover with impatient joy with­out madness. To see her clasp him fast when he threw him­self into her soft white bosom, and smother him with kisses: No, he cou'd not bear it now, and al­most lost his respect when he beheld it, and grew sawcy un­perceiv'd. And ' [...]was in vain that he look'd back upon the reward he had to stand for that ne­cessary Cypher a Husband, in vain he consider'd the reasons why, and the occasion wherefore; he now seeks for presidents of usurp'd dominion, and thinks she is his Wife, and has forgot that he's her creature, and Phil­landers V [...]ssal. These thoughts disturb'd him all the night, and [Page 14] a certain jealousie, or rather curiosity to listen to every mo­tion of the Lovers, While [...] they were imploy'd after a different manner.

Next day it was debated what was best to be done as to their conduct in that place: or whe­ther Silvia shou'd yet own her Sex or not, but she pleas'd with the Cavalier in her self: beg'd she might live under that disguise. Which indeed gave her a thou­sand charmes to those which na­ture had already bestow'd on her Sex, and Philander was well enough pleas'd she shou'd conti [...]ue in that agreable dress, which did not only add to her beauty, but gave her a thousand little Priviledges, which otherwise woud have been deny'd to Women. Tho in a Country of much Freedom. Every day she apear'd in the Toure, she fail'd [Page 15] not to make a conquest on some unguarded heart of the fair Sex, nor was it long ere she receiv'd Billet Deux from most of the most accomplish'd who could speak and write French. This gave them a pleasure in midst of their un­lucky exile; and she fail'd not to boast her conquests to Octavio, who every day gave all his hours to Love, under the disguise of Friendship, and every day re­ceiv'd new wounds, both from her conversation and beauty, and every day confirm'd him more in his first belief, that she was a Woman: and that confirm'd his Love. But still he took care to hid his passion with a gallantry that was natural to him, and to very few besides; and he manag'd his eyes, which were always full of Love so equally to both, that when he was soft and fond it [Page 16] appear'd more his natural hu­mour than from any particuler cause, and that you may believe that all the arts of gallantry, and graces of good managment were more peculiarly his, than anothers, his Race was illustrious, being de­scended, from that of the Princes of Orange, and great birth will shine through, and shew it self in spight of education and obscurity, but Octavio had all those additions that render a man truly great and brave, and this is the character of him that was next undone by our unfortunate and fatal Beau­ty. At this rate for sometime they liv'd thus disguis'd under feign'd names. Octavio omitting nothing that might oblige 'em in the highest degree, and hardly any thing was talk'd of but the new and beautiful Strangers; whose conquest in all places over [Page 17] the Ladys are well worthy, both for their rarity and comody to be related intirely by them­selves in a Novel. Octavio every day saw with abundance of plea­sure the little revenges of Love on those Womens hearts who had made before little conquests over him, and strove by all the gay presents he made young Fill­mond (for so they call'd Silvia,) to make him appear unresistable to the Ladies, and while Silvia gave them new wounds, Octavio fail'd not to receive 'em too a­mong the crow'd, till at last he became a confirm'd slave to the lovely unknown; and that which was yet more flrange she capti­vated the Men no less than the Women, who often gave her Se­rinades under her Window with Songs fitted to the Courtship of a Boy, all which added to [Page 18] their diversion; but fortune had smil'd long enough and now grew weary of obliging, she was resol­ved to undeceive both Sexes and let 'em see the Errors of their love; for Silvia fell into a Feaver so vi­olent that Phillander no longer hop'd for her recovery, in so much that she was oblig'd to own her Sex and take Women Servants out of decency, this made the first disco­very of who and what they were, and for which every body languisht under a secret grief. But Octavio who now was not only confirm'd she was a Woman, but that she was neither wife to Phillander, nor cou'd in almost all possibili­ty ever be so: That she was his Mistress, gave him hope that she might one day as well be con­quer'd by him; and he found her youth, her Beauty, and her quali­ty, merited all his pains of la­vish [Page 19] Courtship: And now there remains no more than the fear of her dying to oblige him imme­diately to a discovery of his pas­sion, too violent now by his new hope to be longer conceal'd, but decency forbids he shou'd now persue the dear design; he wai­ted and made Vows for her re­covery; visited her and found Phillander the most deplorable object that despair and love cou'd render him, who lay eter­nally weeping on her bed, and no Counsel or perswasion cou'd remove him thence; but if by chance they made him sensible 'twas for her repose, he wou'd depart to ease his mind by new torments, he wou'd rave and tear his delicate hair, sigh and weep upon Octavio's bosome, and a thou­sand times begin to unfold the story already known to tha [Page 20] generous Rival; despair, and hopes of pitty from him, made him ut­ter all; and one day, when by the advice of the Physitian he was forc'd to quit the Chamber to give her rest, he carried Octa­vio to his own, and told him from the beginning all the story of his Love with the charming Sil­via; and with it all the story of his Fate: Octavio sighing (tho glad of the opportunity) told him his affairs were already but too well known, and that he fear'd his safety from that discovery, since the States had oblig'd them­selves to harbour no declar'd E­nemy to the French King: At this news our young unfortunate shew'd a rsentment that was so moving, that even Octavio, who felt a secret joy at the thoughts if his departure, cou'd no longer refrain from pity and tenderness, [Page 21] even to a wish that he were less un­happy and never to part from Silvia; but soon love grew again triumphant in his heart, and all he cou'd say was that he wou'd afford him the aids of all his power in this incounter, which with the acknow­ledgments of a Lover, whose life depended on it, he receiv'd and parted with him, who went to learn what was decreed in Coun­cel concerning him. While Phil­lander return'd to Silvia the most dejected Lover that ever Fate produc'd; where he had not sigh'd away above an hour but he re­ceiv'd a Billet by Octavio's Page from his Lord; he went to his own apartment to read it, fearing it might contain something too sad for him to be able to hold his temper at the reading of, and which wou'd infallibly have dis­sturb'd the repose of Silvia, who [Page 22] shar'd in every cruel thought of Phillanders; when he was alone he open'd it, and read this.

[Page 23] Phillander having finisht the reading of this, remain'd a while wholly without life or mo­tion, when coming to himself he sigh'd and cryd,—Why— farewel trifling life—If of the two extreames one must be chosen, rather then I'le abandon Silvia, I'le stay and be deliver'd up a Victim to incensed France— 'Tis but a life—At best I never Vallu'd thee—And now I scorn to preserve thee at the Price of Silvias teares! Then taking a hasty turn or two about his cham­ber, he pawsing cryd—But by my stay I ruine both Silvia and my self, her life depends on mine, and 'tis impossible hers can be preserv'd when mine is in danger, by retiring I shall shortly again be blest with her sight in a more safe security; by staying I resign my self poor­ly [Page 24] to be made a publick scorn to France, and the cruell Mur­derer of Silvia; now 'twas, after an hundred turns and pawses in­termixt which sighs and raveings, that he resolv'd for both their safe­ties to retire, and having a while longer debated within him­self how and where; and a little time ruminated on his hard per­suing fate, grown to a calm of grief (less easy to be born than rage) he hastes to Silvia, whom he sound something more cheer­ful than before, but dares not aquaint her with the commands he had to depart—But silently he views her, while teares of Love and grief glide unperceiv­ably fram his fine eyes, his soul grows tenderer at every look, and pity and compassion joyning to his Love, and his despairs, set him on the wrack of Li [...]e, and [Page 25] now believing it less pain to dy than to leave Silvia; resolves to dis­obey and dare the worst that shall befall him, he yet had some glim­mering hope, as Lovers have, that some kind chance will prevent his going or being deliver'd up, he trusts much to the Friendship of Octavio, whose power joyn'd with that of his Unkle. (Who was one of the States also, and whom he had an ascendant over, as his Ne­phew and his heir,) might serve him; he therefore ventures to move him to compassion, by this fol­lowing Letter.

Least in this sudden remove you shou'd want Mony, I have sent you several Bills of Exchange to what place soever you arrive, and what you want more (make no scruple to use me as a friend) and command.

After this Letter, finding no hopes; but on the contra­ry a dire necessity of departing, he told Briljard his misfortune, and ask'd his Counsel in this ex­tremity of affairs. Brilljard (who of a Servant was become [Page 40] a Rival) you may believe, gave him such advice as might remove him from the object he ador'd. But after a great deal of dissembl'd trouble, the better to hide his joy, he gave his advice for his going with all the arguments that ap­pear'd reasonable enough to Phil [...]an­der. And at every period urg'd that his life being dear to Silvia, and on which hers so immediately de­pended, he ought no longer to de­bate but haste his flight, to all which councell our Amorous Hero, with a soul ready to make its way thro' his trembling body, gave a sighing unwilling assent. 'Twas now no longer a dispute, but was concluded he must go, but how was only the question. How shou'd he take his farewel, how shou'd he bid adieu, and leave the dear object of his soul in an estate to hazardous, [Page 41] he form [...]d a thousand sad Ideas to torment himself with; fancying he shou'd never see her more, that he shou'd hear that she was dead, tho now she appear'd on this side of the Grave, and had all the signs of a declining disease. He fancy'd absence might make her cold and abate her passion to him, that her powerful beauty might atract adorers, and she being but a Woman, and no p [...]rt Angel, but her form, 'twas not expected she shou'd want her Sexes frailties. Now he cou'd consider how he had won her, how by importunity and opportunity she had at last yielded to him, and therefore might to some new Gamster, when he was not by to keep her heart in continual play: Then 'twas that all the despair of jealous love, the throbs and piercing of a vio­lent passion seiz'd his timorous and [Page 42] tender hea [...]t, he fancy'd her al­ready in some new Lovers Arms, and ran o're all the soft enjoy­ments he had had with her; and fancy'd with tormenting thought, that so another wou'd posses her: till rackt with tortures he almost fainted on the Repose on which he was set: But Brilljard rous'd and indeavour'd to convince him: Told him he hop'd his fear was needless, and that he wou'd take all the watchful care imaginable of her conduct, be a spy upon her vertue, and from time to time give him notice of all that shou'd pass: Bid him consider her qua­lity, and that she was no common Mistriss whom hire cou'd lead astray, and that if from the vio­lence of her passion, or her more severe fate she had yeilded to the most Charming of men, he ought as little to imagine she cou'd be [Page 43] again a Lover, as that she cou'd find an object of equal beauty with that of Phillander. In fine, he sooth'd and Flatter'd him into so much ease, that he resolves to take his leave for a day or two under pretence of meeting and consulting with some of the rebell party; and that he wou'd return again to her by that time it might be imagin'd her feaver might be a­bated, and Silvia in a condition to receive the news of his being gone for a longer time, and to know all his affairs. While Brilljard pre­par'd all things necessary for his de­parture, Phillander went to Silvia. From whom, having been ab­sent two tedious hours; she caught him in her Arms with a transport of joy; reproach'd him with want of Love, for being ab­sent so long. But still the more she spoke soft [...]ighing words of [Page 44] Love, the more his Soul was seiz'd with melancholy. His sighs redoubl'd and he cou'd not refrain from leting fall some tears upon her bosom—Which Silvia perceiving with a look and a trembling in her voyce, that spoke her fear, she cry'd, oh Phil­lander! these are unusual marks of your tenderness. Oh tell me, tell me quickly, what they mean. He answer'd with a sigh, and she went on—'Tis so, I am undone, 'tis your lost vows, your broken faith you weep, Yes, Phillander, you find the flower of my beauty faded, and what you lov'd before you pity now, and these be the effects of it. Then sighing, as if his Soul had been de­parting on her neck, he cry'd by heaven, by all the powers of Love, thou art the same dear char­mer that thou wert, then pressing [Page 45] her body to his bosom, he sigh'd a new as if his heart were break­ing —I know (says she) Phil­lander there's some hidden cause that gives these sighs their way, and that dear face a paleness. Oh tell me all; for she that cou'd abandon all for thee, can dare the worst of Fate, if thou must quit me—Oh Phillander, if it must be so, I need not stay the lingering death of a feable Fea­ver: I know a way more noble and more sudden. Pleas'd at her re­solution, which all most destroy'd his jealousie and fears, a thou­sand times he kist her, mixing his grateful words and thanks with sighs, and finding her fair hands (which he put often to his mouth) to increase their fires, and her pulse to be more high and quick, fearing to relapse her into her (abating) feaver he forc'd a [Page 46] smile, and told her, he had no griefs, but what she made him feel, no torments but her sickness, nor sighs but for her pain, and left nothing unsaid, that might confirm her he was still more and more her Slave; and con­cealing his design in favour of her health, he ceas'd not vowing and protesting till he had settled her in all the tranquillity of a recovering beauty. And, as since her first Illness he had never de­parted from her Bed, so now this night he strove to appear in her Arms with all that usual Gayety of Love that her condi­tion wou'd permit, or his cir­cumstances cou'd feign, and leav­ign her a sleep at day-break (with a force upon his Soul that cannot be conceiv'd) but by par­ting Lovers, he stole from her Arms and retiring to his chamber [Page 47] he soon got himself ready for his flight and departed. We will leave Silvia's ravings to be exprest by none but her self, and tell you that after about Four­teen days absence Octavio re­ceiv'd this Letter from Phillan­der:

This Letter Octavio wou'd not carry himself to her, who had omitted no day, scarce any hour, wherein he saw not or sent not to the charming Silvia, but he sound, in that which Philander had writ to him, an Aire of coldness altogether unusual with that passionate Lover, and infinite­ly short in point of tenderness to those he had formerly seen of his, and from what he had heard him speak; so that he no longer doubted (and the rather because he hop'd it) but that Philander found an abatement of that heat, which was wont to inspire at a more Amorous rate; this appearing de­clension [Page 54] he cou'd not conceal from Silvia, at least to let her know he took notice of it; for he knew her Love was too quick sighted and sensible to pass it un­regarded, but he with reason thought, that when she shou'd find others observe the little slight she had put on her, her pride (which is natural to women in such cases) wou'd decline and lessen her Love, for his Rival. He therefore sent his Page with the Letters in­clos'd in this from himself.

Silvia had no sooner read this with blushes, and a thousand fears, and trembling of what was to follow in Phillander's Letters both to Octavio and to her self, but with an Indignation agreea­ble to her haughty Soul she cry'd—How,—slighted! and must Octavio see it too: By Hea­ven if I shou'd find it true he shall not dare to think it; then with a generous rage she broke open Phillanders Letter; and which she soon perceiv'd did but too well prove the truth of [Page 58] Octavio's suspition, and her own fears. She repeated it again and again, and still she found more cause of greif and anger; Love oc­casion'd the first, and Pride the last: And, to a Soul perfectly haughty, as was that of Silvia, 'twas hard to guess which had the assendant: She consider'd Octa­vio to all the advantages that thought cou'd conceive in one who was not a Lover of him; she knew he merited a heart tho she had none to give him, she found him charming without having a tenderness for him, she found him young and amorous without de­sire towards him, she found him great, rich, powerful, and gene­rous, without designing on him, and tho she knew her Soul free from all Passion, but that for Phi­lander; nevertheless she blusht and was angry, that he had thoughts [Page 59] no more advantagious to the pow­er of those charmes, which she wisht might appear to him a­bove her Sex: It being natural to Women to desire Conquests, tho they hate the conquer'd; to glory in the tryumph, tho they despise the Slave. And believ'd, while Octavio had so poor a sense of her beauty as to believe it cou'd be forsaken, he would adore it less; And first to satisfie her pride she left the softer business of her heart to the next tormenting hour, and sent him this careless answer by his Page, believing if she ap­pear'd too angry it might look as if she valu'd his opinion, and there­fore dissembled her thoughts, as women in those cases ever do, who when most angry seem the most Galliard, especially when they have need of the friendship of those they flatter.

As soon as she had dismist the Page, she hasted to her business of Love, and again read over Philan­ders Letter, and finds still new oc­casion for fear; she had recourse to pen and paper for a relief of that heart which no other way cou'd find it; and after, having wip'd the tears from her eyes, she writ this following Letter.

Having read over this Letter she fear'd she had said too much of her doubts, and apprehensions of a change in him; for now she flies to all the little Stratagems and artifices of Lovers, she begins to consider the worst, and to make her best of that, but quite abandon'd she cou'd not believe [Page 75] her self without flying into all the rage that disappointed Wo­men cou'd be possest with, she calls Briljard shews him his Lords Letters, and told him (while he read) her doubts and fears; he being thus instructed by her self in the way how to deceive her on, like Fortunetellers who gather peoples Fortune from them­selves and then return it back for their own Divinity; tells her he saw indeed a change! glad to improve her fear, and feigns a sorrow almost equal to hers: 'Tis evident, says he, 'Tis evident, that he's the most ungrateful of his Sex! Pardon Madam (continued he, bowing) If my Zeal for the most Charming Creature on Earth make me forget my duty to the best of Masters and Friends, Ah Brilljard, cry'd she, with an Air of lan­guishment that more inflam'd [Page 76] him, have a care least that mista­ken Zeal for me shou'd make you prophane a Vertue, which has not, but on this occasion shew'd that it wan­ted Angels for its guard. Oh, Brilljard, if he be false—If the dear Man be perjur'd, take, take kind Heaven! the life you have preserv'd, but for a greater proof of your revenge—And at that word she sunk into his Arms, which he hastily extended as she was falling, both to save her from harm and to give himself the pleasure of grasping the lovely'st body in the World to his Bosome, on which her fair face declin'd cold, dead and pale, but so trans­porting was the pleasure of that dear burden, that he forgot to call for, or to use any aid to bring her back to life, but trem­bling with his love and eager passion he took a thousand joys, [Page 77] he kist a thousand times her Luke­warm lips, suckt her short sighs, and ravisht all the sweets her Bosome (which but guarded with a loose Night Gown) yielded his impa­tient touches. Oh, Heaven who can express the pleasures he re­ceiv'd, because no other way he ever cou'd arrive to so much dare­ing, 'twas all beyond his hope, loose were her Robes, insensible the Maid, and love had made him insolent, he rov'd, he kist, he gaz'd, without controul, forget­ting all respect of persons or of place, and quite despairing by fair means to win her, resolves to take this luckey opportunity; the door he knew was fast, for the Counsel she had to ask him ad­mitted of no lookers on, so that at his enterance she had secur'd that pass for him her self, and be­ing near her Bed, when she fell [Page 78] into his Arms, at this last daring thought, he lifts her thither and lays her gently down, and while he did so, in one Minute, ran o're all the killing joys he had been witness to, which she had given Philander; on which he never paws'd but urg'd by a Cupid al­together malicious and wicked, he resolves his cowardly Conquest, when some kinder God awaken'd Silvia, and brought Octavio to the Chamber door, who having been us'd to a freedom which was per­mitted to none but himself with Antonett her woman, waiting for admittance, after having knockt twice softly, Brilljard heard it, and redoubl'd his disorder, which from that of Love grew to that of surprise; he knew not what to do, whether to resuse answe­ring or to re-establish the revive­ing sense of Silvia; in this mo­ment [Page 79] of perplexing thought, he fail'd not however to set his hair in order, and ajust him, tho there were no need of it, and steping to the door (after having rais'd Silvia, leaning her head on her hand on her bed side,) he gave admittance to Octavio; but oh Heaven, how was he surpriz'd when he saw it was Octavio? his heart with more force than before redoubl'd its beats, that one might easily perceive every stroke by the motion of his Cravate, he blusht, which to a complexion perfectly fair, as that of Briljard (who wants no Beauty either in face or person) was the more dis­coverable, add to this his trem­bling, and you may easily imagine what a suger he represented himself to Octavio: Who almost as much surpriz'd as himself to find the Goddess of his Vows and Devo­tions [Page 80] with a young Endimion a lone, a door shut too, her Gown loose (which from the late fit she was in and Briljards rape upon her Bo­som) was still open and discover'd a World of unguarded Beauty, which she knew not was in view, with some other disorders of her head Cloaths, gave him in a mo­ment a thousand false apprehensi­ons, Antonett was no less surpriz'd, so that all had their part of a­mazement, but the innocent Sil­via, whose Eyes were beautifi'd with a melancholly calm, which almost fet the generous Lover at ease, and took away his new fears, however he cou'd not chuse but ask Briljard what the matter was with him, he look so out of coun­tenance, and trembled so, he told him, how Silvia had been, and what extream frights she had possest him with, and told him [Page 81] the occasion, which the lovely Silvia with her eyes and sighs as­sented to, and Brilljard departed; how well pleas'd you may ima­gine, or with what gusto he left her with the lovely Octavio, whom he perceiv'd too well was a Lover in the disguise of a Friend: But there are in lovethose wonderful Lovers who can quench the Fire one Beauty kindles, with some other Object, and as much in Love as Brilljard was he found Antonett an Antidote that dispell'd the grosser part of it, for she was in Love with our Amorous friend, and courted him with that passi­on those of that Country do al­most all handsom Strangers, and one convenient principle of the Religion of that Country is to think it no sin: to be kind while they are single Women, tho o­therwise (when Wives) they are [Page 82] just enough, nor does a Woman that manages her affairs thus dis­creetly meet with any reproach, of this humour was our Attonett who persu'd her Lover out half jealous there might be some ama­rous intrigue between her Lady and him, which she sought in vain by all the feable Arts of her Coun­tries Sex to get from him, while on the other side, he believing she might be of use in the farther discovery he desir'd to make be­tween Octavio and Silvia; not only told her she her self was the Object of his wishes, but gave her a substantial proof on't, and told her his design, after ha­ving her Honour for security that she wou'd be secret, the best Pledge a man can take of a Wo­man: After she had promis'd to be­tray all things to him she departed to her affairs, and he to giving [Page 83] his Lord an account of Silvia, as he desir'd, in a Letter which came to him with that of Silvia, and which was thus,

This came as Briljards Soul cou'd wish, and had he sent him word he had been chosen King of Poland he cou'd not have receiv'd the news with so great joy, and so per­fect a welcom. How to manage this to his best advantage was the business he was next to consult, af­ter returning an answer; now he fancied himself sure of the lovely prize, in spight of all other oppo­sitions: For (says he, in reasoning the case) if she can by degrees ar­rive to a coldness to Philander, and consider him no longer as a Lover, she may perhaps consider me as a Hus­band, or shou'd she receive Octavio's addresses, when once I have found [Page 87] her feable I will make her pay me for keeping of every secret. So ei­ther way he entertain'd a hope, tho never so distant from Reason and probability; but all things seem possible to longing Lovers, who can on the least hope resolve to out wait even Eternity (if pos­sible) in expectation of a pro­mis'd blessing, and now with more than usual care he resolv'd to dress and fet out all his Youth and Beauty to the best ad­vantage, and being a Gentle­man well born, he wanted no Arts of dressing, nor any advantage of shape or Mein, to make it appear well: Pleas'd with this hope, his art was now how to make his ad­vances without appearing to have design'd doing to. And first to act the Hypocrite with his Lord was his business; for he consider'd rightly, if he should not represent [Page 88] Silva's sorrows to the life, and ap­pear to make him sensible of 'em, he shou'd not after be credited if he related any thing to her disadvan­tage; for to be the greater Enemy you ought to seem to be the greatest Friend. This was the policy of his heart, who in all things was inspir'd with phanatical notions. In order to this, being alone in his Chamber, after the defeat he had in that of Silvia's, he writ this Letter.

[Page 96] Having writ this, he read it over; not to see whether it were wity or Eloquent, or writ up to the sence of so good a Judge as Philander, but to see whether he had cast it for his purpose; for there his Master-piece was to be shewn; and having read it, he doubted whether the relation of Silvia's griefs were not too mo­ving, and whether they might not serve to revive his fading love which were intended only as a de­monstration of his own pitty, and compassion, that from thence the deceiv'd Lover might with the more ease entertain a belief in what he hinted of her Levity when he was to make that out, as he now had but toucht upon it, for he wou'd not have it thought the business of malice to Silvia, but duty and respect to Philander: That thought reconcil'd [Page 97] him, to the first part without al­teration, and he fancy'd he had said enough in the latter, to give any man of Love and Sence a Jealousie which might inspire a young Lover in persute of a new Mistress, with a revenge that might wholly turn to his advan­tage, for now every ray gave him light enough to conduct him to hope, and he believ'd nothing too difficult for his Love, nor what his invention cou'd not conquer, he fancy'd himself a very Machia­vel already, and almost promis'd himself the Charming Silvia, with these thoughts he feals up his Letters and hastes to Silvia's Chamber for her Further com­mands, having in his politick transports forgotten he had left Octavio with her. Octavio, who no sooner had seen Brilljard quit the Chamber all trembling and difor­de'rd [Page 96] [...] [Page 97] [...] [Page 98] after having given him en­terance, but the next step was to the Feet of the newly reco­ver'd languishing Beauty, who not knowing any thing of the freedom the daring Husband-Lo­ver had taken, was not at all sur­priz'd to hear Octavio cry (knee­ling before her) Ah Madam, I no longer wonder you use Octavio with such rigour, then sighing declin'd his Melancholly Eyes, where love and jealousie made themselves too apparent, while she believing he had only reproach'd her want of Ceremony at his entrance, check­ing her self, she started from the Bed and taking him by the hands to raise him, she cry'd, Rise, my Lord, and pardon the omissi­on of that respect which was not wanting but with even life it self Octavio answer'd, Yes Madam, but you took care not to make the World [Page 99] absolutely unhappy in your Eternal loss, and therefore made chioce of such a time to d [...]e in when you were sure of a skilful person at hand to bring you back to life - My Lord —said she (with an innocent won­der in her Eyes, and an ignorance that did not apprehend him) I mean Briljard, said he, whom I found sufficiently disorder'd to make me believe he took no little pains to restore you to the World again. This he spoke with such an Air as easily made her imagine he was a Lover to the degree of jealousie, and therefore beholding him with a look that told him her disdain before she spoke) she reply'd hastily, My Lord, if Brilljard have exprest by any disorder or concern of his kind sense of my sufferings I am more oblig'd to him for it then I am to you for your opinion of my vertue, and I shall hereafter [Page 100] know how to set a value both on the one and on the other, since what he wants in quality and abili­ty to serve me, he sufficiently makes good with his respect and Duty. At that she wou'd have quitted him, but he (still kneeling) held her Train of her Gown, and besought her with all the Eloquence of moving and petitioning Love, That she wou'd Pardon the effect of a Passion that cou'd not run into less extravagancy at a sight so new and strange, as that she shou'd in a mor­ning with only her Night Gown thrown loosely about her lovely body, and which left a thousand Charms to view, alone receive a man into her Chamber, and make fast the door upon 'em, which when (from his im­portunity) was open'd he found her all ruffled, and almost fainting on her Bed, and a young blushing youth start from her Arms with [Page 101] trembling Limbs, and a heart that beat time to the Tune of active love, faultering in his speech, as if scarce yet he had recruited the sense he had so happily lost in the Amorous incounter: With that surveying of her self, as she stood, in a great Glass, which she cou'd not hin­der her self from doing, she found indeed her Night Linnen, her Gown, and the bosome of her Shift in such disorder, as if at least she had yet any doubt remaining that Briljard had not treated her well; she how­ever found cause enough to ex­cuse Octavio's opinion, weighing all the circumstances together, and adjusting her Linnen and Gown with blushes that almost appear'd criminal, she turn'd to Octavio, who still held her, and still beg'd her Pardon, assuring him upon her Honour, her love [Page 102] to Philander, and her friendship [...]or him, that she was perfectly innocent, and that Brilljard, tho he shou'd have quality and all other advantages which he wanted to render him accepta­ble, yet that there was in Na­ture something which compell'd [...]er to a sort of coldness and dis­gust to his person for she had so much the more abhorrance to him as he was a Husband, but that was a secret to Octavio, but she continu'd speaking— And cry'd no, cou'd I be brought to yield to any but Philander, I own I find Charms enough in O­ctavio to make a conquest, but since the possession of that dear man is all I a [...]k of Heaven, I charge my Soul with a Crime, when I but hear love from any other, therefore I conjure you, if you have any sa­tisfaction in my conversation, never [Page 103] to speak of Love more to me, for if you do, Honour will oblige me to make vows against seeing you: All the freedoms of friendship I'le allow: Give you the Liberties of a Bro­ther, admit you alone by Night, or any way but that of Love; but that's a re [...]erve of my Soul which is only for Philander, and the only one that ever shall be kept from Octavio She ended speaking and rais'd him with a smile; and he with a sigh, told her she must command; then she fell to telling him how she had sent for Briljard: and all the Dis­course that past; with the rea­son of her falling into a swound, in which she continu'd a mo­ment or two, and while she told it she blusht with a secret fear, that in that Trance some free­doms might be taken which she durst not confess, but while she [Page 104] spoke our still more passionate Lover devour'd her with his eyes, fixt his very Soul upon her Charms of speaking and looking, and was a thousand times (urg'd by transporting passion) ready to break all her dictates, and vow himself her Eternal Slave, but he fear'd the result, and therefore kept himself within the bounds of seeming friendship, so that after a thousand things she said of Phi­lander, he took his leave to go to Din [...]er, but as he was going out he saw Brilljard enter; who, as I said, had forgot he left Octa­vio with her; but in a moment recollecting himself, he blusht at the apprehension, that they might make his disorder, the subject of their Discourse, so what with that, and the sight of the dear object of his late disappointed pleasures, he had much ado to [Page 105] assume an assurance to approach; But Octavio past out and gave him a little release. Silvia's con­fusion was almost equal to his, for she lookt on him as a Ravish­er, but how to find that Truth, which she was very curious to know, she call'd up all the Arts of Women to instruct her in, by threats she knew 'twas vain, therefore she assum'd an Artifice, which indeed was almost a stran­ger to her heart, that of gilting him out of a secret which she knew he wanted generosity to give handsomely, and meeting him with a smile, which she forc'd, she cry'd, How now Bril­jard, are yon so [...]aint hearted a Souldier, you cannot see a Lady dye without being terrified. Rather Madam, (replyed he blushing a new) so soft hearted I cannot see the loveliest person in the World [Page 106] [...]ainting in my Arms, without being disorder'd with grief and fear, beyond the power of many days to resettle again. At which she ap­proacht him, who stood near the door, and shutting it, she took him by the hand and smiling cry'd, And had you no other business for your heart but grief and fear, when a fair Lady throws her self into your Arms, it ought to have had some kinder effect on a person of Brilljards youth and complexion. And while she spoke this she held him by the wrist, and found on the suddain his pulse to beat more high, and his heart to heave his bosom with sighs, which now he no longer took care to hide; but with a transported joy he cry'd Oh Madam do not urge me to a con­fession that must undo me, without making it criminal by my discovery of it, you know I am your slave [Page 107] —when she with a pretty won [...] dering smile cry'd—what a Lover too and yet so dull! Oh Charming Silvia, says he (and falling on his knees) give my profound respect a kinder Name, to which she an­swer'd —You that know your sen­timents may best instruct [...]e by what Name to call em, and you Brilljard may do it without fear,—You saw I did not struggle in your Arms, nor strove I to defend the kisses which you gave—Oh Heavens cry'd he transported with what she said, is it possible that you cou'd know of my presumption and favour it too? I will no longer then curse those un­lucky Stars that sent Octavio just in the blessed Minute to snatch me from my Heav'n, the lovely Victim lay ready for the Sacrifice, all pre­pared to offer, my hands, my eyes, my Lips, were tir'd with pleasure, but yet they were not fatis [...]i [...]d, oh [Page 108] there was joys beyond those ravish­ments of which one kind Minute more had made me absolute Lord: Yes and the next said she, had sent this to your heart—Snatching a Pen­knife that lay on her [...]oylite, where she had been writing, which she offer [...]d so near to his bo­some that he believ'd himself al­ready pierc'd, so sensibly killing were her words, her motion, and her look, he started from her and she threw away the Knife, and walking a turn or two about the Chamber, while he stood immova­ble with his eyes [...]ixt to earth, and his thoughts on nothing but a wild confusion, of which he vow'd afterwards he cou'd give no ac­count of: But as she turn'd she beheld him with some compassi­on, and remembering how he had it in his power to expose her in a strange Country, and own her [Page 109] for a wife, she believ'd it neces­sary to hide her resentments; and cry'd, Brilljard for t [...]e friendship your Lord has for you, I forgive you, but have a care yon never raise your thoughts to a presumption of that Nature more: Do not hope I will e­ver fall below Philanders Love; go and repent your Crime—and ex­pect all things else from my favour— At this he le [...]t her with a bow that had some mallice in it, and she return'd into her dressing Room —After dinner Octavio writes her this Letter, which his Page brought.

Sylvia, notwithstanding the seeming severity of her Com­mands, was well enough pleas'd to be disobey'd, and Women ne­ver pardon any fault more wil­lingly, than one of this nature, where the Crime gives so infalla­ble a demonstration of their pow­er and Beauty; nor can any of their Sex be angry in their hearts [Page 113] for being thought desirable; and 'twas not with pain, that she saw him obstinate in his passion, as you may believe by her answering his Letters, nor ought any Lover to despair, when he rec [...]ives denial under his Mistresses own hand, which she sent in this to Octavio.

This Letter, she sent him back by his Page▪ but not the Bracelets which were indeed very fine, and very considerable, at the same time she threatned him with banish­ment, she so absolutely expected to be disobey'd in all things of that kind, that she drest her self that day to advantage, which since her arrival she never had done in her own habits; what with her illness and Philanders absence a careless negligence had seiz'd her, till rous'd and waken'd to the thoughts of Beauty by Octavio's Love, she be­gan [Page 118] to try its force, and that day drest: While she was so imploy [...]d the Page hastes with the Letter to his Lord, who chang'd Colour at the sight of it e're he receiv'd it, no [...] that he hop'd it brought love, 'twas enough she wou'd but an­swer, tho she rail'd; let her (said he in opening it) vow she hates me: Let her call me Traytor aud unjust, so she take the pains to tell it this way, for he knew well those that argue will yield, and only she that sends him back his own Letters without reading [...]m can give dispair. He read there­fore without a sigh, nor complain­ed he on her rigours, and because it was too early yet to make his Visit, to shew the impatience of his Love, as much as the reality and resolution of it, he bid his Page wait a [...]d sent her back this answer.

This he sent by Florio his Page at th [...] same time that she expected th [...]e Visit of [...]his Lord, and blusht with a little anger and concern at the disappointment; however she [Page 124] hasted to read the Letter, and was pleas'd with the haughty re­solution he made, in spight of her, to love on as his right by birth; and she was glad to find from these positive resolves, that she might the more safely disdain, or at least assume a Tyranny which might render her vertue Glorious, and yet at the same time keep him her slave on all occasions when she might have need of his service, which in the circumstances she was in, she did not know of what great use it might be to her, she having no other design on him, bating the little Vanity of her Sex, which is an ingredient so in­termixt with the greatest vertues of Women kind, that those who indeavour to cure 'em of that dis­ease, robs 'em of a very consi­derable pleasure, and in most, 'tis incurable: Give Silvia then [Page 125] leave to share it with her Sex▪ since she was so much the more excusable by how much a greater portion of Beauty she had than a­ny other, and had sense enough to know it too; as indeed what­ever other Knowledge they want, they have still enough to set a price on beauty, tho they do not always rate it, for had Silvia done that, she had been th [...] hapi­est of her Sex! but as she was, she waited the coming of Octavio, but not so as to make her quit one sad thought for Philander. Love and vanity, tho they both reign'd in her Soul, yet the first sur­mounted the last, and she grew to impatient ravings when ever she cast a thought upon her fear that Philander grew cold; and possibly pride and vanity had as great a share in that concern of hers as Love it self, for she wou'd [Page 126] oft survey her self in her Glass, and cry! Gods! can this Beauty be despis'd! this Shape, this Face, this Youth, this Air, and what's more obliging yet, a heart that adores the sugitive, that languish and sighs after the dear Run, away: Is it possible he can find a Beauty, added she, of greater perfection—Bnt oh 'tis fan­cy sets the rate on Beauty; and he may as well love a third time as he has a Second: For in Love those that once break the rules and Laws of that Deity set no bounds to their Treasons, and disobedience. Yes yes [...] wou'd she cry, he that cou'd l [...]ave Mertilla the fair, the young, the Noble, Chast and fond Mertil­la, what after that may he not do to Silvia, on whom he has less tyes▪ less obligations: Oh wretched Maid —what has thy fondness done! he's satiated now with thee, as before with Mertilla, and carries all those [Page 127] dear, those charming joys, to some new Beauty, whom his looks have Conquer'd, and whom his soft be­witching Vows will ruin! with that she rav [...]d and stampt, and cry'd aloud! Hell—Fiers—Tortures —Dagers—Racks and Poyson-come all to my relief! Revenge me on the perjur'd lovely Divel—But I'le be brave—I will be brave and hate him—This she spoke in a tone less fierce, and with great Pride, and had not paws'd and walk'd above a hasty turn or two, but Octavio as impatient as love cou'd make him, enter'd the Chamber, so drest; so set out for Conquest, that I wonder at nothing more than that Silvia did not find him altogether Charming, and fit for her revenge who was form'd by Nature for Love: And had all that cou'd render him the Dotage of Wo­men; but where a heart is pre­possest, [Page 128] all that is Beautiful in any other Man serves but as an ill comparison to what it loves, and even Philanders likeness, that was not indeed Philander, wanted the secret to charm. At Octavio's en­terance she was so sixt on her Re­venge of Love, that she did not see him who presented himself as so proper an Instrument, till he first sighing, spoke, Ah Silvia, shall I never see that Beauty easie more? Shall I never see it reconcil [...]d to content, and a soft calmness fixt upon those Eyes▪ which were form'd for looks all tender and serene, or are they resolv'd (continued he sighing) never to appear but in storms when I approach? Yes, re­plyed she, when there's a Calm of Love in yours that raises it. Will you con [...]ine my Eyes (said he) that are by Nature soft? May not their silent Language tell you my hearts [Page 129] sad Story? But she reply'd with a sigh, it is not generously done Octa­vio, thus to pursue a poor unguarded Maid, left to your Care, your pro­mises of Friendship. Ah will you use Philander with such treachery? Silvia, said he, my Flame's so just and reasonable, that I dare even to him pronounce I love you, and af­ter that dare love you on—And wou [...]d you (said she) to satisfie a little short liv'd passion, forfeit those vows you've made of Friendship to Philander? That heart that loves you Silvia (he replyed) cannot be guil­ty of so base a thought, Philander is my Friend, and as he is so, shall know the dearest secrets of my Soul▪ I shou'd believe my self indeed un­grateful (continued he) where e [...]re I lov'd, shou'd I not tell Philander, he told me frankly all his Soul, his loves, his griefs, his Treasons, and escapes, and in return I'le pay him [Page 130] back with mine, and do you Ima­gine (said she) that he wou'd per­mit your love, how shou'd he hin­der me (reply'd he.) I do believe (said she) he'd forfeit all his safety and his friendship, and fight ye, then I'd defend my self, said he, if he were so ungrateful. While they thus ar­gued Silvia had her thoughts a part, on the little stratagems that Women in love sometimes make use of, and Octavio no sooner told her he would send Philan­der word of his Love, but she imagin'd that such a knowledge might retrieve the heart of her Lover, if indeed it were on the wing, and revive the dying Embers in his Soul, as usually it does from such occasions, and on the other­side she thought that she might more allowably receive Octavio's addresses, when they were with be per [...]mission of Philander, if he [Page 131] [...]ou'd love so ill as to permit it, and if he cou'd not, she shou'd have the joy to undeceive her fears of his inconstancy tho she banisht for ever the agreeable Octavio, so that on Octavio's farther urging the necessity of his giving Philander that sure mark of his friendship, she permitted him to write, which he immediately did on her Table where there stood a little Silver Scrutore which contain'd all things for his pur­pose.

After he had writ this, he gave it [...] Silvia See Charming Creature (said he in delivering it) if after this you either doubt my Love or what I dare for Silvia. I neither receive it (said she) as a proof of the one or the other; but rather that you believe by this frank Confession, to render it as a piece of Gallantry [Page 136] and diversion to Philander; for no Man of sense will imagine that, love, true, or arriv'd to any height, that makes a publique confession of it to his Rival. Ah Silvia answer'd he, how malicious is your Wit, and how active to turn its pointed mischief on me, had I not writ, you wou'd have said I durst not, and when I make a declaration of it, you call it only a slight piece of Gallantry! but Silvia you have wit enough to try it a thousand ways, and power e­nough to make me obey; use the ex­tremity of both; so you recompence me at last with a confession that I was at least found worthy to be numbred in the crow'd of your adorers. Sil­via reply'd, he were a dull Lover indeed, that wou'd need instructions from the Wit of his Mistress to give her proofs of his passion, what ever opinion you have of my sense, I have too good a one of Octavio's to be­lieve [Page 137] that when he's a Lover he'le want aids to make it appear, till then we'le let that argument alone and consider his address to Philan­der▪ She then read over the Letter he had writ, which she lik'd very well for her purpose, for at this time our young Dutch Hero was made a property of, in order to her revenge on Philander▪ She told him he had said too much both for himself and her. He told her, he had declar'd nothing with his Pen; that he wou'd not make good with his Sword. Hold Sir, said she, and do not imagine from the freedom you have taken in owning your passion to Philander. that I shall allow it here; what you declare to the world is your own Crime, but when I hear it, 'tis no longer yours but mine, I therefore conjure you, my Lord, not to charge my Soul with so great a sin against Philander, and I confess to [Page 138] you I shall be infinitely troubl'd to be oblig'd to banish you my sight for ever. He heard her and answer'd with a sigh, for she went from him to the Table and seal'd her Letter and gave it him to be inclos'd to Philander, and left him to consi­der on her last words which he did not lay to heart, because he fancy'd she spoke this as women do that will be won with indu­stry, he in standing up as she went from him, saw himself in the great glass, and bid his per­son answer his heart, which from every view he took, was reinforc'd with new hope, for he was too good a judge of Beauty not to find it in every part of his own Amia­ble person, nor cou'd he imagine from Silvia's eyes, (which were naturally soft and languishing, and now the more so from her fears and jealousies) that she [Page 139] meant from her heart the ri­gours she exprest: Much he al­low'd for his short time of Court­ship, much to her Sexes modesty, much from her quality, and very much from her Love, and ima­gin'd it must be only time and as­siduity, opportunity, and obstinate passion, that was only capable of reducing her to break her faith with Philander, he therefore in­deavour'd by all the good dres­sing, the advantage of lavish gaye­ty, to render his person agreeable and by all the Arts of Gallantry to charm her with his conversa­tion, and when he cou'd hand­somly bring in love, he fail'd not to touch upon it as far as it wou'd be permitted, and every day had the vanity to fancy he made some advances, for indeed every day more and more she found she might have use for so considerable [Page 140] a Person, so that one may very well say, never any past their time better than Silvia and Octavio, tho with different ends, all he had now to fear was from the answer Phi­landers Letter shou'd bring for whom he had in spight of Love, so intire a friendship that he even doubted whether, (if Phi­lander cou'd urge reasons potent enough) he shou'd not chuse to dye and quit Silvia rather then be false to friendship; one Post past, and another, and so eight successive ones, before they re­ceiv'd one word of answer to what they sent, so that Silvia, who was the most impatient of her Sex, and the most in Love was raving and acting all the ex­travagance of despair, and even Oct­avio now became less pleasing, yet he fail'd not to Visit her eve­ry day to send her rich presents [Page 141] and to say all that a fond Lo­ver or a faithful friend might urge for her relief: at last Octavio re­ceiv'd this following Leter.

Octavio no sooner arriv'd to that part of the Letter which nam'd the Count of Clerinau, but he stop'd and was scarce able to pro­ceed, for the Charming Calista was his Sister, the only one he had [Page 165] who having been bred in a Nunnery was taken thence to be married to this old rich Count, who had a great Fortune: Before he proceeded, his Soul divin'd this was the new Amour that had ingag'd the heart of his Friend, he was afraid to be farther con­vinc'd, and yet a curiosity to know how far he had proceeded made him read it out with all the disorder of a man jealous of his Honour, and nicely careful of his Fame; he consider'd her young about eighteen, married to an Old ill favour'd jealous Husband, no Parents but himself to right her wrongs, or revenge her leve­ty, he knew tho she wanted no Wit she did Art, for being bred without the Conversation of Men she had not learnt the little cun­nings of her Sex, he guest by his own Soul that hers was so [...]t and [Page 167] apt for impression, he judg'd from her Con [...]ession to her Husband of the Vision, that she had a simple Innocence, that might betray a a young Beauty under such Cir­cumstances; to all this he consi­der'd the Charms of Philander unresistable, his unwearied indu­stry in love, and concludes his Sister lost. At first he upbraids Philander, and calls him ungrate­ful, but soon thought it unreasona­ble to accuse himself of an inju­stice, and excus'd the frailty of Philander, since he knew not that she whom he ador'd was Sister to his friend; however it fail'd not to possess him of with inquietude that exercis'd all his Wit, to con­sider how he might prevent an inseparable injury to his Hono [...]r, and an intrigue that possibly might cost his Sister her Life, as well as Fame: In midst [Page 168] of all those torments he forgot not the more i [...]portant business of his Love. For to a Lover, who has his Soul per [...]ectly [...]ixt on the fair object of its adoration, what ever other thought, fa [...]igue, and cloud, his mind, that like a soft Gleam of new sprung light, darts in and spreads a glory all around, and like the God of day chearse [...] very drooping vital, yet even these dearer thoughts wanted not their torments. At first he strove to attone for the [...]ears of Calista, with those of imagining Philan­der [...]alse to Silvia, Well, cry'd he▪ —If thou be [...]st lost [...] at least thy ruin has laid a foundation for my happiness, and every Triumph Philander makes of thy Vertue, it the more secures my Empire over Sil­via, and since thy Brother cannot be happy; but by the Sisters being un­done, yield thou, oh faithless fair [Page 168] one, yield to Philander and make me blest in Silvia! And thou (con­tinued he) Oh perjur'd Lover and inconstant Friend, glut thy insatiate flame—rifle Calista of every Ver­tue Heaven and Nature gave her, so I may but revenge it on thy Sil­via! Pleas'd with this joyful hope he traverses his Chamber glowing and blushing with new kindling fire, his heart that was all gay, defus'd a gladness, that exprest it self in every Feature of his lovely face, his eyes that were by nature languishing, shone now with an un­usual Air of briskness, Smiles grac'd his mouth, and dimples drest his face, insensibly his busie fin­gers trick and dress, and set his hair, and without designing it, his feet are bearing him to Silvia, till he [...]ept short and wonder'd whither he was going, for yet it was not time to make his Visit— [Page 169] Whither fond Heart, (said he) O whither wou'dst thou hurry this Slave to thy soft fires! And now return­ing back he paws'd and fell to thought—He remember'd how impatiently Sylvia waited the re­turn of the answer he writ to him, wherein he own'd his passion for that Beauty. He knew she per­mitted him to write it, more to raise the little brisk fires of Jea­lousie in Philander, and to set an edge on his blunted love, than from any favours she design'd Octavio: And that on this answer depended all her happiness, or the confirmation of her doubts, and that she wou'd measure Philanders love by the effects she found there of it. So that never Lover had so hard a game to play as our new one. He knew he had it now in his power to ruin his Rival, and to make almost his own terms [Page 170] with his fair Conqueress, but he consider'd the secret was not ren­der'd him for so [...]ase an end, nor cou'd his love advance it self by wayes so false, dull, and criminal,— between each thought he paws'd, and now resolves she must know he sent an answer to his Letter, for shou'd she know he had, and that he shou'd refuse her the sight of it, he believ'd with reason she [...]ught to banish him for ever her pre­sence, as the most disobedient of her Slaves. He walks and pawses on—but no kind thought presentsit self to save him; [...]ither way he finds himself undone, and from the most gay, and most triumphing Lover on the Earth, he now, with one serious thought of right reasoning, finds he is the most miserable of all the Creation! He reads the Superscri­ption of that Philander writ to Sil­via, which was inclos'd in his, and [Page 171] finds it was directed only—For Silvia, which wou'd plainly de­monstrate it came not so in­to Holland, but that some other cover secur'd it; so that never any, but Octavio the most nice in Honour, had ever so great a con­test with Love and Friendship: for his Noble temper was not one of those that cou'd Sacrifice his friend to his little Lusts, or his more solid passion, but truly brave, resolves now rather to die than to confess Philanders Secret, to evade which he sent her Let­ter by his Page, with one from himself, and commanded him to tell her that he was going to re­ceive some Commands from the Prince of Orange, and that he wou'd wait on her himself in the Evening. The Page obeys, and Octavio sent him with a sigh and Eyes, that languishingly told him, [Page 172] he did it with regreet.

The Page hasting to Silvia, finds her in all the disquiet of an expecting Lover, and snatching the Papers from his hand, the first she saw was that from Philander, at which she trembl'd with fear and joy, for Hope, Love and Despair at once seiz'd her, and hardly able to make a sign with her hand for the Boy to withdraw, she sunk down into her Chair all pale, and almost fainting, but re­assuming her Courage, she open'd it, and read this.

It Silvia's Fears were great be­fore she open'd the Letter, what were her pains when all those fears were confirmed from that never failing mark of a declining Love, the coldness and alteration of the Stile of Letters, that first Symptom of a dying flame? Oh where, said she, where, Oh perjur'd Charmer, is all that ardency that us'd to warm the Reader, where is all that Natural Innocence of Love that cou'd not, even to disco­ver [Page 181] and express a Grace in Elo­quence, force one soft word, or one Passion. Oh, continued she, he is lost and gone from Silvia and his Vows; some other has him all, Clasps that dear body, hangs upon that face, ga­zes upon his Eyes, and listens to his Voyce, when he is looking, sigh­ing, swearing, dying, lying and damning of himself for some new Beauty—He is, I'le not indure it, aid me Antonett, Oh where's the perjur'd Traytor! Antonett who was waiting on her seeing her rise on the suddain in so great a fury wou'd have staid her hasty turns and ravings, beseech­ing her to tell her what was the occasion, and by a discovery to case her heart, but she with all the fury imaginable, flung from her Arms, and ran to the Table, and snatching up a Penknife, had certainly sent it to her heart had [Page 182] not Antonett stept to her and caught her hand, which she re­sisted not, but blushing resign'd with telling her she was asham'd of her own Cowardize, for, said she, if I had design [...]d to have been brave, I had sent you off▪ and by a Noble resolution have freed this Slave within (striking her Breast) from a Tyranny which it shou'd dis­dain to suffer under: With that she rag'd about the Chamber with broken words and imperfect threatnings, unconsider'd impre­cations, and unheeded Vows and Oaths: at which Antonett redoubl'd her Petition to know the cause; and she reply'd—Philander! the dear, the soft, the fond and Charming Philander is now no more the same. Oh Antonett said she, didst thou but see this Letter compar'd to those of heretofore, when Love was gay and young, when new desire drest [Page 183] his soft Eyes in tears, and taught his tongue the Harmony of Angels; when every tender word had more of passion then Volumes of this forc'd▪ this triffling business. Oh thou woud'st say I were the wretch'dst thing that Nature ever made— Oh thou wou'dst curse as I do— Not the dear Murderer, but thy Frantick self, thy mad, deceiv'd, be­lieving, easie self; if thou wert so undone— Then while she wept she gave Antone [...]t liberty to speak, which was to perswade her, her fear were vain; she urg'd every argument of Love she had been Witness too, and cou'd not think it possible he cou'd be false: To all which the still weeping Silvia lent a willing ear: For Lovers are much inclin'd to believe every thing they wish. Antonett ha­ving a little calm'd her, conti­nu'd telling her that to be better [Page 184] convinc'd of his Love or his per­sidy, she ought to have Patience till Octavio shou'd come to visit her, For have you forgotten, Madam, said she, that that generous Rival has sent him word he is your Lo­ver: For Antonett was waiting at the reading of that Letter, nor was there any thing the open hearted Silvia conceal'd from that Servant; and Women, who have made a breach in their Honour, are seldom so careful of their rest of Fame, as those who have a Stock intire; and Silvia believ'd after she had trusted the Secret of one Amour to her discretion, she might conceal none. See Madam, says Antonett, here is a Letter yet unread: Silvia who had been a great while impatient for the return of Octavio's answer from Philander, expecting from thence the confirmation of all [Page 185] her doubts: Hastily snatch'd the Letter out of Antonetts hand, and read it, hoping to have found something there to have eas'd her Soul one way or other: a Soul the most raging and haugh­ty by Nature, that ever possest a Body, the Words were these.

At finishing this, the jealous fair One redoubl'd her tears with such violence that 'twas in vain her Woman strove to abate the flowing Tide by all the reason­able [Page 188] arguments she cou'd bring to her aid, and Silvia to increa [...]e it, read again the latter part of the ominous Letter, which she wet with the tears that stream'd from her bright eyes. Yes, yes, (cry'd she laying the Letter down) I know Octavio this is no Prophe­sie of yours, but a known truth; alas, you know too well the fatal time's already come when I shall find these changes in Philander! Ah Madam reply'd Antonett, how curious are you to search out tor­ments for your own heart, and as much a Lover as you are, how lit­tle do you understand the Arts and Politicks of Love: Alas, Madam, continu'd she, you your self have arm'd my Lord Octavio with those Weapons that wound you: The last time he writ to my Lord Philan­der, he found you possest with a thousand fears and jealousies; of [Page 189] these he took advantage to attaque his Rival, for what man is there so dull that wou'd not assault his E­nemy in that part where the most considerable mischief may be done him; 'tis now Octavio's Int'rest and his business to render Philan­der false, to give you all the umbrage that is possible of so powerful a Rival, and to say any thing that may render him hateful to you, or at least to make you love him less. Away▪ reply'd Silvia (with an uneasi-smile) how foolish are thy reaso­nings, for were it possible I cou'd Love Philander less, is it to be i­magin'd, that shou [...]d make way for Octavio in my heart, or any, af­ter that dear deceiver? No doubt of it, reply'd Antonett, but that very effect it wou'd have on your heart, for Love in the Soul of a witty person is like a scain of Silk; to unwin'd it from the Bottom, [Page 190] you must wind it on another or it runs into confusion and becomes of no use, and then of course, as one lessens the other increases, and what Philander loses in Love, Octavio or some one industrious Lover will most certainly gain: Oh reply'd Silvia you are a great Phylosopher in Love. I shou [...]d be Madam, cry'd Antonett, had I but had a good Memory, for I [...]ad a young Church man once in love with me, who has read many a Philosophi­cal Lecture to me upon Love; a­mong the rest he us'd to say the soul was all compos'd of Love. I us'd to ask him him then, if it were form'd of so soft Materials, how it came to pass that we were no oftner in love, or why so many were so long before they lov'd, and others who never lov'd at all? No queston but he answer'd you wisely, said Silvia carelessly and sighing, with her [Page 193] thoughts but half attentive. Mar­ry and so he did, cry'd Anto­nett, at least I thought so then, be­cause I loved a little. He said, Love of it self was unactive, but 'twas inform'd by Object, and then too that Object must depend on fancy (for Souls, tho all love, are not to love all) now fancy, he said, was sometimes nice, humourous, and fan­tastick, which is the reason we so of­ten love those of no merit, and despise those that are most excellent; and sometimes fancy guides us to like neither, he us'd to say Women were like Misers, tho they had always love in store, they seldom car'd to part with it, but on very good in­t'rest and security, Cent per Cent, most commonly heart for heart at least, and for security he said we were most times too unconscionable, we ask'd Vows at least, at worst Matrimony—Half angry, Silvia [Page 192] cry'd—and what's all this to my loving against? Oh Madam, reply'd Antonett, he said a Woman was like a Gamester, if on the winning hand, hope, int'rest, and vanity made him play on, besides the pleasure of the play it self; if on the losing, then he continu'd throwing at all to save a stake at last, if not to re­cover all; so either way they find occasion to continue the game. But oh, said Silvia sighing, what shall that Gamester set, who has already play'd for all she had, and lost it at a cast? Oh Madam, reply'd Antonett, The young and fair find Credit every where, there's still a prospect of a return, and that Gamester that plays thus upon the tick is sure to lose but little, and if they win, 'tis all clear gains. I find, said Silvia, you are a good manager in love; you are for the frugal part of it. Faith Madam, said Antonett, I am in­deed [Page 195] of that opinion, that love and int'rest always do best together, as two most excellent ingredients in that rare Art of preserving of Beauty. Love makes us put on all our Charms, and int'rest gives us all the advantage of dress, without which Beauty is lost, and of little use. Love wou'd have us appear al­ways new, always gay, and magni­ficent, and money alone can render us so, and we find no Women want Lovers so much as those who want Petticoats, Iewels, and all the ne­cessary trifles of Gallantry. Of this last opinion I find you your self to be; for even when Octavio comes, on whose heart you have no design, I see you dress to the best advan­tage, and put on many, to like one: Why is this but that, even unknown to your self, you have a secret joy and pleasure in gaining Conquests▪ and of being ador'd and thought the most [Page 196] Charming of your Sex. That is not from the inconstancy of my heart, cry'd Silvia, but from the little va­nity of our Nat [...]res▪ Oh Madam, re­ply'd Antonett, there is no friend to Love, like Vanity; it is the falsest betrayer of a Womans heart, of any Passion or humour she can be guil­ty of, not Love it self betrays her sooner to Love than Vanity or Pride, and, Madam, I wou'd I might have the pleasure of my next wish, when I find you not only list'ning to the love of Octavio, but even approving it too. Away, reply'd Silvia in frowning, your mirth grows rude and troublesome,—Go bid the Page wait, while I return an answer to what his Lord has sent me. So sitting at the Table she dismist Antonett, and writ this following Letter.

[Page 199] She read it over, and was of­ten about to tear it, fancying it was tooo kind: But when she consider'd 'twas from no other in­clination of her heart than that of getting the secrets out of his, she pardon'd her self the little levity she found it guilty off, all which considering as the effects of the violent Passion she had for Philander, she found it easie to do, and sealing it she gave it to Antonett to deliver to the Page, and set herself down to ease her soul of its heavy weight of grief, by her complaints to the dear Author of her pain; for when a Lover is insupportably afflicted there is no ease like that of wri­ting to the person lov'd: And that all that comes uppermost in the Soul, for true love is all un­thinking artless speaking, incorrect disorder, and without Method, as 'tis [Page 200] without bounds or rules, such were Silvia's unstudy'd thoughts, and such her following Letter.

She had no sooner finisht this and seal'd it, but Octavio came in to the Chamber, and with such an Air, with such a Grace, and mien he approach'd her—with all the languishment of soft trembling Love in his face, which with the addition of the dress he was that [Page 215] day in, (which was extreamly rich and advantagious, and alto­gether such as pleases the Vanity of Women.) I have since heard the Charming Silvia say, in spight of all her tenderness for Philander; she found a a soft emotion in her Soul, a kind of pleasure at his approach, which made her blush with some kind of anger at her own easiness. Nor cou'd she have blusht in a more happy sea­son; for Octavio saw it, and it serv'd at once to add a Luster to her paler Beauty, and to betray some little kind sentiment, which possest him with a joy that had the same effects on him: Silvia saw it; and the care she took to hide her own, serv'd but to in­crease her blushes, which put her into a confusion she had much ado to reclaim; she cast her Eyes to Earth, and leaning her Cheek on [Page 216] her hand, she continu'd on her seat without paying him that u­sual Ceremony she was wont to do. While he stood speechless for a moment gazing on her with in­finite satisfaction, when she to as­sume a formality as well as she cou'd, rose up and cry'd (fearing he had seen too much) Octavio I have been considering after what manner I ought to receive you, and while I was so, I left those Civilli­ties unpaid which your quality, and my good manners ought to have ren­der'd you. Ah Madam, reply'd he sighing, if you wou'd receive me as I merited and you ought, at least you wou'd receive me as the most passionate Lover that ever A­dor'd you. I was rather believing, said Silvia, that I ought to have re­ceiv'd you as my Foe: Since you conceal from me so long what you cannot but believe I am erxteamly [Page 217] impatient of hearing, and what so neerly concerns my repose. At this he only answering with a sigh, she pursu'd, Sure, Octavio, you un­derstand me: Philanders answer to the Letter of your confessing Passion has not so long been the subject of our discourse and expectation, but you guess at what I mean? Octavio, who on all Occasions wanted not wit, or reply, was here at a loss, what to answer: Notwithstanding he had consider'd before what he wou'd say: but let those in love fancy, and make what fine speeches they please, and believe them­selves furnisht with abundance of eloquent Harangues at the sight of the dear Object they lose 'em all, and love teach 'em a dialect much more prevailing without the expence of duller thought: And they leave unsaid all they had so sloridly form'd [Page 218] before, and sigh a thousand things with more success: Love like Po­etry cannot be taught, but unin­structed flows without painful study, if it be true; 'tis born in the Soul, a Noble inspiration not a Science! such was Octavio's, he thought it dishonourable to be guilty of the meaness of a Lye, and say he had no answer: He thought it rude to say he had one and wou'd not shew it Sil­via: And he believ'd it the height of ungenerous baseness to shew it. while he remain'd this moment si­lent; Silvia, who's love, jealousie, and impatience indur'd no delay, with a malicious half smile, and a tone all angry, scorn in her Eyes, and passion on her Tongue, she cry'd—'Tis, well Octavio, that you so early let me know you can be false, unjust, and faithless, you knew your power, and in pitty [Page 219] to that Youth and easiness you found in me, have given a Civil warning to my heart. In this I must confess, continu'd she, you have given a much greater testimony of your friend­ship for Philander, than your Passi­on for Silvia, And, I suppose, you came not here to resolve your self of which you should prefer, that was decided e're you arriv'd, and this visit I imagine was only to put me out of doubt: A piece of Charity you might have spar'd. She ended this with a scorn, that had a thousand Charmes, because it gave him a little hope; and he answer'd with a sigh, Ah Madam, how very easie you find it to enter­tain thoughts disadvantagious of me: And how small a fault your Wit and cruelty can improve to a Crime. You are not offended at my friendship for Philander. I know you do not Vallue my Life, and my [Page 220] repose so much, as to be concern'd who, or what, shares this heart, that a­dores you; No, it has not merited that Glory; Nor dare I presume to hope, you shou'd so much as wish my Passion for Silvia, shou'd surmount my Friendship to Philander. If I did, reply'd she with a scorn, I perceive I might wish in vain: Madam, answer'd he, I have too Divine an opinion of the justice of the Charming Silvia to believe I ought, or cou'd make my approaches to her heart by ways so base and un­generous, the result of even tollera­ted Treason is to hate the Traytor. Oh, you are very nice, Octavio, re plyed Silvia, in your Functilio to Philander, but I perceive you are not so tender in those you ought to have for Silvia? I find Honour in you men, is only what you please to make it, for at the same time you think it ungenerous to betray Phi­lander, [Page 221] you believe it no breach of Honour to betray the eternal re­pose of Silvia? You have promis'd Philander your friendship, you have avow'd your self my Lover, my Slave, my Friend, my every thing, and yet not one of these has any tye, to oblige you to my interest, pray tell me, continued She, when you last writ to him, was it not in order to receive an answer from him? And was not I to see that answer? And here you think it no dishonour to break your word or promise; by which I find your false Notions, of Vertue and Honour, with which you serve your selves, when int'rest, de­sign, or self Love makes you think it necessary. Madam, replyed O­ctavio, you are pleas'd to persue your anger, as if indeed I had disobeyed your command, or refus'd to shew you what you Imagine I have from Philander: Yes, I do replyed she [Page 222] hastily; and wonder why you shou'd have a greater friendship for Phi­lander, than for Silvia, especially if it be true that you say, you have joyned Love to friendship; or are you of the opinion of those that cry they cannot be a Lover and a friend of the same Object. Ah Madam, cry'd our perplext Lover, I beg you to believe, I think it so much more my Duty and inclination to serve and obey Silvia than I do Philander, that I swear to you, Oh, Charming Conqueress of my Soul, if Philander have betrayed Siliva, [...]e has at the same time betray'd O­ctavio, and that I wou'd revenge it with the loss of my Life: In injuring the adorable Silvia, believe me, lovely Maid, he injures so much more than a Friend, as Honour is above the inclination; if he wrong you, by Heaven he cancels all! he wrongs, my Soul, my Honour, Mistress [Page 223] and my Sister: Fearing he had said too much, he stopp'd and sight at the word Sister, and ca­sting down his Eyes, blushing with shame and anger, he continu'd, Oh, give me leave to say a Sister, Madam, least Mistress had been too daring and presumptious, and a Title that wou'd to justifie my quarrel half so well, since 'twou'd take the Honour from my just resentment and blast it with the scandal of self in­trest or jealous revenge. What you say replyed she, deserves abundance of acknowledgement; but if you wou'd have me believe you, you ought to hide nothing from me, and he methinks that was so daring to confefs his Passion to Philander, may, after that, venture on any discovery: In short Octavio, I demand to see the re­turn you have from Philander, for possibly— said she, sweet'ning her Charming face into a Smile de­ [...]ign'd, [Page 224] I shou'd not be displeas'd to find I might with more freedom re­ceive your Addresses, and on the coldness of Philanders reasoning may depend a great part of your Fate, or Fortune: Come, come, produce your credentials, they may recommend your heart more effectually than all the fine things you can say, you know not how the least appearance of a slight from a Lover, may advance the Pride of a Mistress, and Pride in this affair will be your best Ad­vocate. Thus she insinuated with all her female Arts, and put on all her Charms of Looks and smiles, sweetned her mouth, sof­ten'd her Voyce and Eyes, assuming all the tenderness and little affe­ctations her subtil Sex was capa­ble of, while he lay all ravisht and almost expiring at her Feet; sometimes transported with ima­gin'd Joys in the possession of the [Page 225] dear slatterting Charmer, he was ready to unravel all the Secrets of Philanders letter; but Honour yet was even above his Passion and made him blush at his first hasty thought; and now he strove to put her off, with all the Art he cou'd, who had so very little in his Nature, and whose real Love and perfect Ho­nour had set him above the little evasions of Truth, who scorn'd in all other cases the baseness and cowardize of a Lye: and so un­successful now was the little ho­nest cheat, which he knew not how to manage well, that 'twas soon discover'd to the Wity, jea­lous, and angry Silvia: So that after all the rage a passionate Wo­man cou'd express, who belive'd her self injur'd by the only two persons in the World from whom she expected most Adoration? she [Page 226] had recourse to that Natural and softning aid of her Sex, her Tears, and haviug already reproach'd O­ctavio with all the malice of a defeated Woman, she now con­tinued it in so moving a manner, that our Hero cou'd no longer re­main unconquer'd by that power­ful way of Charming, but unfixt to all he had resolv'd gave up, at least, apart of the secret, and own'd he had a Letter from Phi­lander; and after this confession knowing very well he cou'd not keep her from the sight of it; no tho an Empire were render'd her to buy it off; his Wit was next imploy'd how he shou'd defend the sense of it, that she might not think Philander false. In Or­der to this, he, forcing a Smile, told her, that Philander was the most malicious of his Sex, and had contriv'd the best Stratagem [Page 227] in the world to find whether Sil­via still lov'd, or Octavio retain'd his friendship for him; And but that, continued he, I know the Nature of your curious Sex to be such, that if I shou'd perswade you not to see it, it wou'd but the more inflame your desire of seeing it, I wou'd ask no more of the Charming Silvia, than that she wou'd not oblige me to shew, what wou'd turn so greatly to my own advantage: if I were not too sensible, 'tis but to in­trap me, that Philander has taken this method in his answer. Believe me Adorable Silvia, I plead against my own Life, while I beg you not to put my honour to the test, by commanding me to shew this Let­ter, and that I joyn against the in­t'rest of my own Eternal repose while I plead thus: she hears him with a hundred changes of countenance. Love, rage, and Jealousie swell in [Page 228] siercer Eyes, her breath beats short, and she was ready to burst into speaking before he had finisht what he had to say; she calls up all the little discretion and Reason Love had left her to manage her self as she ought in this great oc­casion? she bit her Lips and swal­low'd her rising sighs; but he soon saw the storm he had rais'd and knew not how to stand the shock of its fury, he sighs, he pleads in vain, and the more he indeavours to excuse the Levity of Philan­der the more he rends her heart, and sets her on the Rack; and concluding him false, she cou'd no longer contain her rage but broke out into all the fury that madness can inspire, and from one degree to another wrought her Passion to the height of Lunacy: She tore her Hair and bit his hands, that indeavour'd to restrain [Page 229] hers from violence, she rent the Ornaments from her fair Body, and discover'd a thousand Charms and Beauties, and finding now that both his strength and reason was too weak to prevent the mischiefs he found he had brought on her, he calls for help: When Briljard was but too ready at hand; with Antonelt and some others, who came to his assistance; Bril­jard, who knew nothing of the occasion of all this, believ'd it the second part of his own late ad­venture, and fancy'd that Octavio had us'd some violence to her, upon this he assumes the Autho­rity of his Lord, and secretly that of a Husband or Lover, and up­braiding the innocent Octavio with his brutallity they fell to such words as ended in a challenge the next morning for Briljard ap­pear'd a Gentleman, Companion [Page 230] to his Lord; and one whom Octa­vio cou'd not well refuse, this was not carried so silently but Antonett busie as she was about her raving Lady heard the ap­pointment, and Octavio quitted the Chamber almost as much di­sturb'd as Silvia, whom, with much ado, they perswaded him to leave, but before he did so he on his knees offer'd her the Let­ter and implor'd her to receive it. So absolutely his Love had vanquisht his Nobler part, that of honour; but she at tending nomoti­ons but those of her own Rage, had no ragard either to Octavio's proffer or his Arguments of Ex­cuse, so that he went away with the Letter, in all the extremity of disorder; this last part of his submission was not seen by Bril­jard; who immediately le [...]t the Chamber, upon rcceiving Octa­via's [Page 231] answer to his Challenge; so that Silvia was now left with her Woman only, who by degrees brought her to more calmness; and Briljard impatient to hear the reproaches, he hop'd she wou'd give Octavio when she was re­turn'd to reason, being curious of any thing that might redound to his disadvantage, whom he took to be a powerful Rival, return'd again into her Chamber: But in heu of hearing what he wisht; Silvia being recover'd from her Passion of madness, and her Soul in a state of thinking a little with reason; she misses Octavio in the crow'd, and with a Voyce, her rage had infeebl'd to a Languish­ment, she cry'd—surveying care­fully those about her, Oh where's Octavio? Where is that Angel man? he who of all his kind can give me comfort. Madam, replyed [Page 232] Antonett, he is gone, while he was here, he kneel'd and pray'd in vain, but for a word, or look, his Tears are yet remaining wet up [...]n your Feet, and all for one sensible reply, but rage had deafen'd you; what has he done to merit this? Oh An­tonett cry'd Silvia—'Twas what he wou'd not do that makes me rave, run, hast and fetch him back— But let him leave his Honour all behind; Tell him he has too much consideration for Philander, and none for my repose. Oh, fly Briljard—Have I no friend in view, dares carry a Message from me to Octavio? Bid him return, oh instantly returrn—I dye I lan­guish for a sight of him—Descend­ing Angels wou'd not be so welcome— Why stand ye still, have I no power with you—Will none obey— Then running hastily to the Chamber Door, she call'd her [Page 233] Page to whom she cry'd—Hast, hast, dear youth, and find Octavio out, and bring him to me instantly: Tell him I dye to see him. The Boy glad of so kind a Message, to so liberal a Lover, runs on his Errant while she returns to her Chamber, and indeavours to re­collect her senses against Octavio's coming as much as possible she cou'd: She dismisses her Atten­dant with different apprehensi­ons; sometimes Briljard believ'd this was the second part of her first raving, and having never seen her thus, but for Philander concludes it the height of ten­derness and Passion for Octavio, but because she made so publique a Declaration of it he believ'd he had given her a Philter, which had rais'd her flame so much a­bove the bounds of modesty and discretion; concluding it so, he [Page 234] knew the usual essects of things of that Nature, and that nothing cou'd alay the heat of such a love but possession, and easily deluded with every fancy that slatter'd his love; mad, starke mad by a­ny way to obtain the last bles­sing with Silvia, he consults with Antonelt how to get one of Octa­vio's Letters out of her Ladies Cabinet, and feigning many frivo­lous reasons, which deluded the Amorous Maid; he perswaded her to get him one, which she did in half an hour after; for by this time Silvia being in as much tranquillity as 'twas possible a Lo­ver cou'd be in, who had the hopes of knowing all the Secrets of the false betrayer, she had call'd Antonett to dress her; which she resolved shou'd be in all the careless magnificence that Art or Nature cou'd put on; to Charm [Page 235] Octavio wholly to Obedience; whom she had sent for, and whom she expected; but she was no sooner set to her Toylight, but Octavio's Page arriv'd with a Letter from his Master, which she greedily snacht; and read this.

This Letter to any other less secure of her own power than was our fair Subject, wou'd have made them impatient and angry: But she found that there was something yet in her power, the dispensation of which cou'd soon recal him from any resolution he was able to make of absenting himself: Her Glass stood before her, and every glance that way was an assurance and security to her heart; she cou'd not see that [Page 239] Beauty and doubt its power of perswasion; She therefore took her Pen, and writ him this an­swer, being in a moment furnisht with all the Art and subtilty that was necessary on this occasion.

She Seals this Letter with a wa­fer, and giving it to Antonett to give the Page, believing she had writ what wou'd not be in vain to the quick sighted Octavio: An­tonett takes both that and the o­ther which Octavio had sent and left her Lady busie in dressing her [Page 243] head, and went to Briljard's Cham­ber, who thought every moment an Age till she came; so vigorous he was on his new design: That which was sent to Octavio being seal'd with a wet Wafer he neat­ly opens, as 'twas easie to do, and read and Seal'd again, and Antonett deliver'd it to the Page. After receiving what pay Briljard cou'd force himself to bestow up­on her; some flatteries of dis­sembl'd love; and some cold Kisses, which even imagination cou'd not render better, She return'd to her Lady, and he to his Stra­tagem, which was to counterfeit a Letter from Octavio: She ha­ving in hers given him a hint, by bidding him set a price upon the Secret, which he had heard was that of a Letter from Phi­lander, with all the Circumstan­ces of it, from the faithless An­tonett [Page 244] whom Love had betray'd▪ and after blotting much paper to try every Letter through the Al­phabet, and to produce them like those of Octavio, which was not hard for a Lover of ingenuity; he fell to the business of what he wou'd write, and having finisht it to his liking, his next trouble was how to convey it to Her; for Octavio always sent his by his Page, whom he cou'd trust. He now was certain of love be­tween 'em? For tho he often had perswaded Antonett to bring him Letters, yet she cou'd not be wrought on till now to betray her trust: And what he long ap­prehended, he found too true on both sides, and now he waited but for an opportunity to send it seasonably, and in a lucky mi­nute. In the mean time Silvia adorns her self for absolute con­quest [Page 245] and disposing her self in the most charming, careless, and tempting manner she cou'd devise, she lay expecting her coming Lo­ver, on a repose of rich Embroi­dery of Gold on blew Sattin, hung within side with little A­morous Pictures of Venus descen­ding in her Chariot naked to A­donis, she imbracing, while the youth more eager of his rural sports turns half from her, in a po­sture of pursuing his Dogs, who are no their Chace: Another of Ar­mida who is dressing the sleeping warrior up in wreaths of Flowers, while a hundred little Loves are playing with his guilded Armour; this puts on his Helmet too big for his little head that hides his whole face; another makes a Hobby horse of his Sword and Lance, another fits on his breast piece, while three or four little Cupi [...]s are seeming [Page 246] to heave and help him to hold it an end, and all turn'd the Em­blimes of the Hero into redicule. These and some other of the like nature adorn'd the Pavillion of the languishing Fair One, who lay carelesly on her side; her Arm leaning on little Pillows, of Point of Venice, and a Book of Amours in her other hand. Every noise alarm'd her with trembling hope that her Lover was come, and I have heard she said she verily be­liev'd that acting and feigning the Lover possest her with a tenderness against her knowledge and Will; and she found some­thing more in her Soul than a bear curiosity of seeing Octavio for the Letters sake: But in Lieu of her Lover, she found her self once more approacht with a Billet from him; which brought this.

She had no sooner read this Let­ter, [Page 250] but Antonett instead of laying it by, carried it to Briljard, and departed the Chamber to make way, for Octavio, who she ima­gin'd was coming to make his vi­sit, and left Silvia considering how she shou'd manage him to the best advantage, and with most honour acquit her self, of what she had made him hope, but instead of his coming to wait on her; an unexpected accident arriv'd to pre­vent him, for a messenger from the Prince came with commands that he shou'd forthwith come to his Highness, the messenger ha­ving command to bring him a­long with him; So that not able to disobey he only beg'd time to write a note of business, which was a Billet to Silvia, to excuse himself till the next day, for it being five Leagues, to the Village where the Prince waited his com­ing, [Page 251] he cou'd not return that night: which was the business of the Note, with which his Page hasted to Silvia: Briljard who was now a vigilent Lover, and waiting for every opportunity that might favour his design: Saw the Page arrive with the Note; and as 'twas usual he took it to carry to his Conqueress, but meeting Antonett on the Stay­ers, he gave her what he had be­fore counterfeited with such Art, after he had open'd what Octavio had sent, and found Fortune was wholly on his side, he having learn'd from the Page, besides that his Lord had taken Coach with Monsieur—to go to his High­ness, and wou'd not return that night: Antonett not knowing the deceit carried her Lady the forg'd Letter, who open'd it with eager hast, and read this.

The Page, who waited no an­swer [Page 254] was departed; but Silvia who believ'd he attended it, was in a thousand minds what to say or do: She blush'd as she read, and then lookt pale, with anger and dis­dain, and but that she had alrea­dy given her Honour up, it wou'd have been something more sur­prising: But she was us'd to questi­ons of that Nature, and there­fore receiv'd this with so much the less concern? nevertheless 'twas sufficient to fill her Soul with a thousand agitations, but when she wou'd be angry the consideration of what she had writ to him, to incourag [...] him to this boldness stop'd her rage: When she wou'd take it ill, she consider'd his knowledge of her lost fame, and that took off a great part of her resentment on that side; and in midst of all she was raving for the knowledge of Phi­landers [Page 255] secret. She rose from the Bed, and walk'd about the room in much disorder, full of thought and no conclusion; she is asham'd to consult of this affair with Anto­nett, and knows not what to fix on: The only thing she was certain of, and which was fully and un­disputably resolv'd in her Soul, was never to consent to so false an Action, never to buy the secret at so dear a rate; she abhors Octa­vio, whom she regards no more as that fine thing which before she thought him, and a thousand times she was about to write her despight and contempt, but still the dear secret staid her hand, and she was fond of the torment: At last Antonett, who was afflict­ted to know the cause of this dis­order, ask'd her Lady if Octavio wou'd not come: No replyed Sil­via blushing at the Name, nor [Page 256] never shall the ungrateful man dare to behold my face any more. Iesu, replyed Antonett, what has he done Madam, to deserve this severity? For he was a great benefactor to Antonett, and had already by his gifts and presents made her a For­tune for a Burgomaster: He has. said Silvia, c [...]mmitted such an impudence, as deserves death from my Hand: This she spoke in rage, and walk'd away cross the Chamber. Why Madam, cry'd Antonett, does he de­nie to give you the Letter: No re­plyed Silvia, but askes me such a price for it, as makes me hate my self, that am reduc'd by my ill con­duct, to Addresses of that Nature: Heavens, Madam, what can he ask you, to afflict you so; the presump­tuous man, said she (in rage) has the impudence to ask what never man, but Philander was ever pos­sest of—At this Antonett laught— [Page 257] Good Lord, Madam, said she, and are you angry at such desires in men toward you? I believe you are the first Lady in the World, that was ever offended for being desirable: Can any thing proclaim your Beau­ty more, or your youth or Wit? mar­ry Madam, I wish I were worthy to be ask'd the question by all the fine dancing, dressing, Song-making Fops in Town. And you wou'd yield, replyed Silvia, not so neither re­plyed Antonett, but I wou'd spark my self, and value my self the more upon't. Oh, said Silvia, she that is so fond of hearing of Love, no doubt but will find some one to practice it with. That's as I shou'd find my self inclin'd, replyed Antonett: Silvia was not so intent on [...]tonett's rail'ery, but she imploy'd all her thought the while, on what she had to do; and those last words of Antonett's jogg'd a thought [Page 258] that ran on to one very advan­tagious, at least her present and first apprehension of it was such: And she turn'd to Antonett with a face more gay than it was the last minute, and cry'd. Prithee good Wench tell me, what sort of man wou'd soonest incline you to a yielding? if you command me Ma­dam, to be free with your Lordship, reply'd Antonett, I must confess there are too sorts of men that wou'd most villainou [...]ly incline me; the first is he that wou'd make my fortune best: The next he that wou'd make my pleasure; the young, the hand­some, or rather the well bread, and good humour'd: But above all the Man of Wit: But what wou'd you say Antonett, replyed Silvia, if all these made up in one man shou'd make his Addresses to you? Why then most certainly Madam, reply­ed Antonett; I shou'd yield him [Page 259] my Honour, aft [...]r a reasonable siege. This tho' the wanton young maid spoke possibly at first more to put her Lady in good humour than from any inclination she had to what she said, yet after many arguments upon that subject, Sil­via cunning enough to pursue her design, brought the business more home, and told her in plain terms that Octavio was the man who had been so presumptious as to ask so great a reward as the possession of her self for the secret she de­sir'd; and after a thousand little subtilties, having made the for­ward Girle confess with blushes, she was not a Maid; she insinu­ated into her an opinion that what she had done already (with­out any other motive than that of Love, as she confest in which int'rest had no part,) wou'd make the trick the easier to do again, [Page 260] especially if she brought to her Arms a person of Youth, Wit, Gallantry, Beauty, and all the Charming qualities that adorn a man, and that besides she shou'd find it turn to good account, and for her secresies, she might de­pend upon it, since the person to whose im [...]races she shou'd submit her self, shou'd not know but that she her self was the Woman, so that says Sil [...]ia, I will have all infamy, and you the reward every way with unblemisht Honour, while she spoke the willing M [...]id gave an inward pleasing attention, tho at first she made a few faint modest scruples; Nor was she less joy'd to hear it shou'd be Octa­vio, whom she knew to be rich, and very handsome, and she im­mediately found the humour of inconstancy cease her, and Bril­jard appear'd a very Husband [Page 261] Lover in comparison of this new Brisker man of quality; so that after some pro's and Con's the whole matter was thus concluded on between these two young per­sons; who neither wanted Wit, nor Beauty; and both cro'd over the contrivance, as a most diver­ting piece of little Malice, that shou'd serve their present turn, and make 'em sport for the future The next thing that was consi­der'd, was a Letter which was to be sent in answer, and that Silvia being to write with her own hand, begot a new doubt, in so much as the whole business was at a stand: For when it came to that point that she her self was to consent, she found the project look with a face so foul, that she a hundred times re­solv'd and unresolv'd. But Phi­lander fill'd her Soul, revenge was [Page 262] in her view, and that one thought put her on new resolves to pur­sue the design, let it be never so base and dishonourable: Yes, cry'd she at last, I can commit no action, that is not more just, excu­sable, and honourable, than that which Octavio has done to me, who uses me like a common Mistris of the Town, and dares ask, me that which he knows, he durst not do if he had not mean, and abject thoughts of me▪ his buseness deserves death from from my hand if I had courage to give it him, and the least I can do is to deceive the deceiver. Well then give me my Scrutore, says she, so sitting down she writ this, not without abundance of of guilt and confusion, for yet a certain Honour, which she had by birth check'd the cheat of her Pen.

She having with much diffi­culty writ this, read it to her trusty confident; for this was the only secret of her Ladys she was resolv'd never to discover to Briljard, and to the end he might know nothing of it, she seal'd the Letter with Wax; But before she seal'd it, she told her Lady, she thought she might have spar'd abundance of her blushes, and have writ a less kind Letter, for a word of invitation or consent, wou'd have serv'd as well: To which Silvia replyed, her anger against him was too high, not to give him all the de­feat [Page 266] imaginable, and the greater the Love appear'd, the greater wou'd be the revenge, when he shou'd come to know (as in time he shou'd) how like a false friend she had treated him: This reason or any at that time wou'd have serv'd Antonett, whose heart was set upon the new adventure, and in such haste she was (the night coming on a pace) to know how she shou'd dress, and what more was to be done, that she only went out to call the Page, and meeting Briljard, (who watcht e­very bodies motion) on the Stair-Case, he ask'd her what that was, and she said to send by Octavio's Page: You need not look in it said she (when he snatcht it hastily out of her hand): For I can tell you the contents, and 'tis seal'd so it must be known if you unrip it: Well, well, said he, if you tell it [Page 267] me it will satisfie my curiosity as well; therefore I'le give it the Page. She returns in again to her Lady, and he to his own Chamber to read what answer the dear Object of his desire had sent to his forg'd one▪ So opening it, he found it such as his Soul wisht: and was all joy and extasie, he views him­self a hundred times in the glass, and set himself in Order with all the Opinion and pride, as i [...] his own good parts had gain'd him the blessing; he inlarg'd him­self as he walkt, and knew not what to do, so extreamly was he ravisht with his coming Joy, he blest himself, his Wit, his Stars his Fortune, then read the dear obliging Letter, and kist it all o­ver, as if it had been meant to him, and after he had forc'd him­self to a little more serious consi­deration, he bethought himself [Page 268] of what he had to do in Order to this dear appointment: He finds in her Letter, that in the first place he was to send her the Letter from Philander: I told you before he took Octavio's Let­ter from the Page; when he un­derstood his Lord was going five Leagues out of Town to the Prince. Octavio cou'd not avoid his going and write to Silvia; in which he sent her the Letter Phi­lander writ, wherein was the first part of the confession of his love to Madam the Countess of Cla­rinau: Generously Octavio sent it without terms; but [...] slid his own forg'd one into Antonetts hand, in Lieu of it, and now he read that from Philander, and wonder'd at his Lords inconstan­ [...], yet glad of the opportunity to take Silvia's heart a little more off from him, he soon re­solv'd [Page 269] she shou'd have the Letter, but being wholly mercenary, and fearing, that either when once she had it, it might make her go back from her promis'd assignati­on, or at least put her out of humour, so as to spoil a great part of the entertainment he de­sign'd: He took the pains to counterfeit another Billet to her, which was this,

[Page 271]This he seal'd and after a con­venient distance of time, carried as from the Page to Antonett, who was yet contriving with her Lady, to whom she gives it, who read it with abundance of impatience, being extreamly angry at the rudeness of the stile, which she fancy'd much alter' from what it was, and had not her rage blin­ded her, she might easily have perceiv'd the difference too of the Character, tho it come as near to the like as possible so short a practice cou'd produce: She took it with the other, and tore it in pieces; with rage, and swore she woud be reveng'd; but after calmer thoughts she took up the pieces to keep, to upbraid him with, and fell to weeping, for anger, defeat, and shame; but the April show'r being past, she return'd to her former resentment, and [...]ad [Page 272] some pleasure amidst all her tor­ment of fears, jealousies, and sense of Octavio's disrespect, in the thoughts of revenge; in Order to which she contrives how An­tonett shall manage her self, and commanding her to bring out some fine point Linnen, she drest up Antonett's head with them, and put her on a Shi [...]t lac'd with the same; for tho she intended no Light shou'd be in the Cham­ber, when Octavio shou'd enter; she knew he understood by his touch the difference of fine things from other, in fine having drest her exactly, as she her self us'd to be, when she receiv'd Octavio's Visits in Bed, she imbrac'd her, and fancy'd she was much of her own shape and bigness, and that 'twas impossible to find the deceit; and now she made Antonett dress her up in her Cloaths, and mob­bing [Page 273] her Sarcenet hood about her head; she appear'd so like Antonett (all but the face) that 'twas not easie to distinguish 'em; And Night coming on they both long for the hour of twelve, tho with different designs; and having be­fore given notice that Silvia was gone to Bed, and wou'd receive no Visit that Night, they were alone to finish all their business, this while Briljard was not idle, but having a fine Bath made he washt and p [...]rfum'd his Body and after drest himself in the finest Linnen perfum'd, that he had, and made himself as fit as possible for his design, nor was his shape which was very good, or his sta­sture unlike to that of Octavio: And ready for the approach, he conveys himself out of the house telling his [...]ootman, he wou'd put himself to Bed after his Ba­thing, [Page 274] and locking his Chamber door, stole out, and it being dark many a longing turn he walk'd impatient till all the Candles were out in every Room of the House; in the mean time he imploy'd his thoughts on a thousand things, but all relating to Silvia; some times the Treachery he shew'd in this Action to his Lord, caused short liv'd blushes in his Face, which vanisht as soon, when he consider'd his Lord false to the most beautiful of her Sex: Sometimes he accus'd and curst the Levity of Silvia, that cou'd yield to O­ctavio, and was as jealous as if she had indeed been to have receiv'd that Charming Lover, but when his thought directed him to his own happiness, his Pulse beat high, his blood flasht apace in his Cheeks, his eyes languisht with Love; and his Body with a so­verish [Page 275] fit? in these extreams by turns he past at least three teadi­ous hours, with a strikeing watch in his hand; and when it told 'twas twelve, he advanc'd nearer the door, but finding it shut walk'd yet with greater impati­ence every half minute going to the door; at last he found it yield to his hand that pusht it: But oh, what mortal can express his Joy, his heart beats double, his knees tremble, and a feebleness seizes every Limb, he breaths nothing but short sighs, and is ready in the dark hall to fall on the Floor; and was forc'd to lean on the rail that begins the Stairs to take a lit­tle Courage: While he was there recruting himself, intent on no­thing but his vast joy; Octavio who going to meet the Prince, being met half way by that young Hero was dispatch back again with­out [Page 276] advancing to the end of his five Leagues, and impatient to see Silvia, after Philanders Letter that he had sent her, or at least impatient to hear how she took it, and in what condition she was, he, as soon as he alighted, went towards her house in hope to have met Antonett, or her Page, or some that cou'd inform him of her welfare; tho 'twas usual for Sil­via to set up very late, and he had often made her. Visits at that hour: And Briljard wholly intent on his adventure, had le [...]t the door open, so that Octavio per­ceiving it, believ'd they were all up in the back rooms where Sil­via's, apartment was towards a Garden, for he saw no light for­ward; but he was no sooner en­ter'd (which he did without noise) but he heard a soft breath­ing, which made him make a [Page 277] stand in the Hall: And by and by he heard the soft tread of some body descending the Stairs: At this he approaches near, and the Hall being a Marble floor, his tread was not heard: When he heard one cry with a sigh— Whose there? And another reply, 'tis I, who are you? The first re­ply'd, a faithful and an impatient Lo­ver. Give me your hand then, re­ply'd the female voice, I will conduct you to your happiness; you may imagine in what surprize O­ctavio was, at so unexpected an adventure, and like a jealous Lo­ver did not at all doubt but the happiness expected was Silvia, and the impatient Lover some one whom he cou'd not imagine, but rav'd within to know, and in a mom [...]nt ran over in his thoughts all the men of quallity or celibrated Beauty, or Fortune [Page 278] in the Town, but was at as great a loss, as at first thinking: But be thou, who thon wilt, cry'd he to himself, Traytor as thou art, I will by thy death revenge my self on th [...] faithless Fair One; and taking out his Sword, he advanc [...]d toward the Stairs foot, when he heard them both softly ascend; but being a man of perfect good Nature, as all the brave and witty are, he reflected on the se­vere usage he had had from [...] Silvia, notwithstanding all his industry, his vast expence, and all the advantages of Nature. This thought made him in the midst of all his jealousie and haste, pawse a little moment, and fain he wou'd have perswaded him­self, that what [...] was the Errors of his sen [...]e; [...] that he dream'd, or that it was [...]t least not to Silvia, to whom this yet [Page 279] ascending Lover was advancing; but to undeceive him of that fa­vourable imagination, they were no sooner on the top of the Stairs, but he not being many steps be­hind cou'd both hear and see by the ill light of a great Sash win­dow on the Stair Case: The hap­py Lover enter the Chamber door of Silvia, which he knew too well to be mistaken, not that he cou'd perceive who or what they were, but two persons not to be distinguisht. Oh what hu­man fancy ( [...]ut that of a Lover to that degree that was our young Hero,) can imagine the a­mazement and torture of his Soul, wherein a thousand other passions reign'd at once, and maugre all his Courage and resolution forc'd him to sink beneath their weight, he stood holding himself up by the rails of the Stair Case, without [Page 280] having the power to ascend far­ther, or to shew any other signs of life, but that of sighing, had he been [...] favour'd Lover, had he been a known declar'd Lover, to all the World, had he [...]ut hop'd he had had so much int'rest with the false Beauty, as but to have been design'd upon for a future love or use, he wou'd have rusht in, and have made the guilty Night a Covert to a Scene of Blood; but even yet he had an awe upon his So [...]l for the perjur'd Fair One, tho at the same time he resolv'd she shou'd be the the ob­ject of his hate; for the Nature of his honest Soul abhor'd an A­ction so treacherous and base: He begins in a moment from all his good thoughts of her, to think her the most Jilting of her Sex, he knew if int'rest cou'd oblige her, no man in Holland had a bet­ter [Page 281] pretence to her than himself, who had already without any re­turn even so much as hope, pre­sented her the vallue of eight or ten thousand pound, in fine Plate and Jewels: If it were looser de­sire he fancy'd himself to have ap­pear'd as capable to have serv'd her as any man, but oh he con­siders there is a fate in things, a destiny in Love that elevates and advances the most mean, de­form'd, or abject, and debases and contemns the most worthy and magnificent: Then he wonders at her excellent art of dissem­bling for Philander, he runs in a minute over all her Passions of rage, jealousie, tears and softness, and now he hates the whole Sex, and thinks 'em all like Silvia, than which nothing cou'd appear more despicable to his present thought, and with a smile (while [Page 282] yet his heart was insensibly break­ing, he fancies himself a very Cox­comb, a Cully, an impos'd on Fool, and a conceited Fop: Va­l [...]e's Silvia as a common fair Jil [...], whose whole design was to de­ceive the World, and make her self a Fortune, at the price of her Ho­nour, one that receives all kind bid­ders, and that he being too lavish, and too modest was reserv'd the Cully on purpose to be undone and Jilted out of all his fortune; This thought was so perfectly fixt in him that he recover'd out of his excess of pain, and fancy'd himself perfectly cur'd of his blind passion, resolves to leave her to her beastly entertainment, and to depart? but before he did so, Sil­via (who had conducted the A­morous Spark to the Bed where the expecting Lady lay drest rich and sweet to receive him) return'd [Page 283] out of the Chamber, and the light being a little more favourable to his [...]yes, by his being so long in the dark [...] he perceiv'd it Antonett, at least such a sort of figure, as he fancy'd her, and to confirm him saw her go into that Chamber where he knew she lay; he saw her perfect dress, and all con­firm'd him; this brought him back almost to his former confu­sion, but yet he commands his passion, and descended the Stairs, and got himself out of the Hall into the Street; and Silvia having forgot the street door was open, went and shut it, and return'd to Antonett's Chamber with the Let­ter, which Briljard had given to Antonett, as she lay in the Bed, believing it Silvia, for that trem­bling Lover was no sooner enter'd the Chamber and approacht the Bed side, but he kneel'd before it [Page 284] and o [...]er'd the price of his hap­piness, this Letter; which she immediately gave to Silvia un­perceiv'd, who quitted the Room; and now with all the eager hast of impatient love, she strikes a Light and falls to reading the sad contents; but as she read she many times fainted over the Paper, and as she has since said 'twas a won­der she ever recover'd, having no [...]ody with her, by that time she had [...]nisht it, she was so ill she was not able to get her self into Bed, but threw her self down on the place where she sate which was the side of it, in such ago­nies of grief and despair, as never any Soul was possest of; but Silvia's wholly abandon'd to the violence of Loves and despair: it is i [...]possible to paint a torment to express hers by, and tho' she had vow'd to Antonett it shou'd [Page 285] not at all effect her, being s [...] prepossest before; yet when she had the confirmation of her fears, and heard his own dear soft words addrest to another object, saw his transports, his impatience, his languishing, industry; and indea­vour to obtain the new desire of his soul; she found her resentment above [...]age, and given over to a more silent and less supportable torment, brought her self into a high Fever; where she lay with­out so much as calling for Aid in this extremity, not that she was afraid the cheat she had put on Octavio would be discover'd, for she had lost the remembrance that any such prank was plaid; and in this multitude of thoughts of more concern, had forgot all the rest of that Nights action.

Octavio this while was traver­ [...]ing the street wrapt in his Cloke [Page 286] just as if he had come from Horse, for he was no sooner gone from the door, but his resenting passi­on return'd, and he resolv'd to go up again, and disturb the Lo­vers, tho it cost him his life and fame: But returning hastily to the door he found it shut; at which being inrag'd he was often about to break it open, but still some unperceivable respect for Silvia prevented him, but he resolv'd not to stir from the door, till he saw the fortunate rogue come out, who had given him all this tor­ment? at first he c [...]rst himself for being so much concern'd for Silvia or her actions, to waste a minute, but flattering himself that it was not love to her, but pure curiosity to know the man, who was made the next fool to himself, tho the mor [...] happy one, he waited all Night, and when [Page 287] he began to see the day break, which he thought a thousand years; his Eye was never off from the door, and wonder'd at their confidence, who wou'd let the day break upon them, but the Close drawn Curtains there, cry'd he, favours the happy Villainy: Still he walk'd on, and still he might for any Rival that was to appear for a most unlucky accident prevented Briljard's coming out, as he doub­ly intended to do, first for the better carrying on of his cheat of being Octavio; and next that he had challeng'd Octavio to fight, and when he knew his Error, de­sign'd to have gone this morning and ask'd him pardon if he had been return'd; but the Amorous Lover over Night, ordering him­self, for the incounter to the best advantage had sent a Note to a Doctor, for something that wou'd [Page 288] incourage his spirits, the Doctor came, and opening a little Box, wherein was a powerful. Medicine: He told him that a Dose of those little flies wou'd make him come off with wonderous Honour in the Battail of Love, and the Do­ctor being gone to call for a glass of Sack, the Doctor having laid out of the Box what he thought requisite on a piece of Paper, and leaving the Box open; our Spark thought if such a Dose wou'd in­courage him so, a greater wou'd yet make him do greater Won­ders, and taking twice the quan­tity out of the Box, puts 'em in­to his pocket, and having drunk the first with full directions, the Doctor leaves him, who was no sooner gone, but he takes those out of his pocket, and in a glass of Sack drinks 'em down; after this he bathes and dresses, and [Page 289] believes himself a very [...] that cou'd have got at least twelve Son [...] that happy Night [...] But he was no sooner laid in Bed with the Charming Silvia as he thought, [...]ut he was taken with intollerable gripes and pains, such as he h [...]d never felt before, inso­much as he was not able to lie in the bed, this enrages him, he grows mad and asham'd, some­times he had little intermissions for a moment of case, and then he wou'd plead softly by her Bed side, and ask ten thousand pardons, which being easily granted [...]e wou'd come into bed again, but then the pain wou'd seiz [...] him anew, so that after two or three hours of distraction he was forc'd to dress and retire; but instead of going down he went softly up to his own Cham­ber, where he sate him down and [Page 290] [...] the World himself and his hard [...]ate; and in this extremity o [...] pain, shame and grief, he re­remain'd till break of day: By which time Antonett who was most violently afflicted, got her Coats on, and went to her own Chamber, where she found her Lady more dead than alive: She immediately shi [...]ted her bed Lin­nen, and made her B [...]d, and con­ducted her to it; without indea­vouring to divert her with the History of her own misfor­tune; and only ask'd her many questions concerning her being thus ill, to which the wretched Silvia only answer'd with sighs, so that Antonett perceiv'd 'twas the Letter that had disorder'd her, and begg'd she might be permit­ted to see it; she gave her leave and Antonett read it, but no soon­er was she come to that part of [Page 291] it which nam'd the Countess of Clarinau, but she ask'd her Lady if she understood who that per­son was, with great amazement? At this Silvia was content to speak, pleas'd a little that she shou'd have an account of her Rival. No, said she, Dost thou know her, Yes Madam, replyed Antonett par­ticularly well, for I have serv'd her ever since I was a Girle of five years old; she being of the same Age with me, and sent at six years old both to a Monastery; for she being fond of my play, her Father sent me at that Age with her, both to serve and to divert her with Babies and Baubles, there we liv'd seven years [...] together, when an old rich Spaniard, the Count of Cla­rinau, fell in love with my Lady, and married her from the Monaste­ry, before she had seen any part of the World beyond those sanctified [Page 292] Walls. She cry'd bitterly to have had me to Collen with her, but he said I was too [...]ouug now for her ser­vice, and so sent me away back to my own Town, which is this, and here my Lady was born too, and is Sister to—Here she stopt, fear­ing to tell; which Silvia percei­ving, with a briskness (which her indisposition one wou'd have thought cou'd not have allow'd) sate up in her B [...]d and cry'd. Ha [...] Sister to whom? Oh, how thou wou'dst please me to say, to Octa­vio, why Madam wou'd it please you said the blushing Maid. Because said Silvia, 'twou'd in part revenge me on his bold Addresses to me, and he wou'd also be oblig'd in ho­nour to his Family, to revenge him­self on Philander. A [...] Madam said she, as to his presumption to­wards you, fortune has sufficiently reveng'd it; at this she hung down [Page 293] her head and look'd very foolish­ly: How, said Silvia smiling and rearing her self yet more in her Bed, is any misfortuue arriv'd to Octavio. Oh how I will triumph and upbraid the daring man— tell me quickly what it is? for no­thing wou'd rejoyce me more tha [...] to hear he were punisht a little; Upon this Antonett told her what an unlucky Night she had, how Octavio was seiz'd, and how he departed, by which Silvia be­liev'd he had made some disco­very of the cheat that was [...] upon him, and that he only feign'd illness to get himself loose from her imbraces; and now she falls to considering how she shall be reveng'd on both her Lovers: And the best [...] can pitch upon is that of s [...]tting them both at odds, and making [...]em fight and revenge themselves on one ano­ther; [Page 294] but she like a right Woman, cou'd not dissemble her re­sentment of jealousie, what ever art she had to do so in any other point; but mad to ease her Soul that was full; and to upbraid Phi­lander, she writes him a Letter, but not till she had once more, to make her stark mad, read his over again; which he sent Octa­vio.

Having shot this flash of the light­ning of her Soul, and finisht her rant, she found her self much easier in the resolves on revenge, she had fix'd there? she scorn'd by any vain in­deavour to recal him from his pas­sion, she had wit enough to have made those eternal observations, that love once gone is never to be retriev'd, and that it was im­possible to cease loving, and then again to love the same person, one may believe for sometime ones love is abated, but when it comes to a tryal, it shews it self as vigorous as in its first shine; and finds its own Error, but when once one comes to love a new Ob­ject, it can never return with more than pity, compassion, or civility for the first: This is a most [Page 301] certain truth which all Lovers will find, as most Wives may ex­perience, and which our Silvia now took for granted, and gave him over for dead to all but her revenge. Tho Fits of softness, weeping, raving, and tearing, wou'd by turns seize the distra­cted abandon'd Beauty; in which extremities she has recourse to scorn and Pride, too feeble to aid her too often: The first thing she resolv'd on by the advice of her reasonable Coun­cellor, was to hear Love at both her ears, no matter whether she regard it or not, but to hear all as a remedy against loving one in par­ticular, for 'tis most certain that the use of hearing Love, or of making Love (tho' at first with­out design) either in Women or men, shall at last unfix the most confirm'd and constant resoluti­on. [Page 302] And since you are assur'd con­tinued Antonett, that sighs nor tears brings back the wander'd Lo­ver, and that dying for him will be no revenge on him, but rather a king assurance that you will no more trouble the man, who is alrea­dy weary of you, you ought with all your power, industry, and Rea­son rather to seek the preservation of that Beauty, and fine humour to serve you on all occasions, either for revenge or love, than by a foolish and insignificant Concern and Sor­row reduce your self to the condi­tion of being scorn'd by all, or at best but pitty'd: How pity'd cry'd the haughty Silvia, is there any thing so insupportable to our Sex as pity! No surely reply'd the Servant, when 'tis accompany'd by Love; Oh what blessed com­fort 'tis to hear people cry— She was once Charming, once a [Page 303] Beauty; is any thing more gra­ting Madam? At this rate she ran on, and le [...]t nothing unsaid that might animate the Angry Silvia to love a new, or at least to receive and admit of love, for in that Climate, the Air Naturally breeds Spirits avaritious, and much inclines 'em to the Love of Mony, which they will gain at any price or hazard, and all this discourse to Silvia was but to in­cline the revengeful listening Beauty to admit of the Addresses of Octavio, because she knew he wou'd make her fortune. Thus was the unhappy Maid, left by her own unfortunate conduct, incom­pass'd in on every side with di­straction; and she was pointed out by fate to be made the most wretch'd of all her Sex, nor had she left one faithful friend to ad­vise or stay her youth in its ha­sty [Page 304] advance to ruin; she hears the perswading Eloquence of the flattering Maid, and finds now nothing so prevailent on her Soul as revenge, and nothing soo hsit more? and amongst all her Lo­vers, or those at least that she knew ador'd her, none was [...]ound so proper an instrument as the Noble Octa­vio, his youth, his Wit, his Gallantry, but above all his fortune pleads most powerful with her; so that she resolves upon the Revenge and fixes him the man; whom she now knew by so many Ob­ligations was oblig'd to serve her turn on Philander: Thus Silvia found a little tranquillity, such as it was, in hope of revenge, while the passionate Octavio was wreck'd with a thousand pains and tor­ments, such as none but Jilted Lovers can imagine, and having a thousand times resolv'd to hate [Page 305] her, and as o [...]ten to love on, in spight of all—after a thou­sand arguments against her, and as many in favour of her, he ar­riv'd only to this knowledge, that his love was extream, and that he had no power over his heart, that Honour, Fame, Int'rest, and whatever else might oppose his Violent flame, were all too weak to extinguish the least spark of it, and all the Conquest he cou'd get of himself was, that he suffer'd all his torment, all the Hell of ra­ging Jealousie grown to Confir­mation, and all the pangs of ab­sence for that whole day, and had the Courage to live on the Rack without easing one moment of his Agony by a Letter or Billet; which in such cases discharges the burthen and pressures of the love sick heart; and Silvia who drest, and suffer'd her self wholly to be [Page 306] carry'd away by her Vengeance, expected him with as much impa­tience as ever she did the coming of the once adorable Philander, tho with a different passion; but all the live long day past in expectation of him, and no Lover appear'd; no not so much as a Billet, nor page at her uprising to ask her health, so that believing he had been very ill indeed, from what Antonett told her of his being so all Night, and fearing now that it was no discovery of the cheat put upon him by the exchange of the Maid for the Mistress, but real sickness, she resolv'd to send to him, and the rather because Antonett assur'd her he was really sick, and in a cold damp sweat all over his face and hands which she toucht, and that from his in­finite concern at the defeat, the extreme respect he shew'd her in [Page 307] midst of all, the rage at his own disappointment, and every Cir­cumstance, she knew it was no [...]eign'd thing for any discovery he had made: On this confirma­tion, from a Maid cunning enough to distinguish truth from flattery, she write Octavio this letter at Night.

You may easily see by this Let­ter she was not in a humour of either writing love or much flat­tery, for yet she knew not how [Page 309] she ought to resent this absence in all kinds from Octavio, and therefore with what force she cou'd put upon a Soul too whol­ly taken up with the thoughts of another, more dear and more af­flicting, she only writ this to fetch one from him, that by it she might learn part of his sentiment of her last Action, and sent her Page with it to him; who, as was u­sual, was carried directly up to Octavio, whom he found in a Gallery walking in a most dejected posture without a Hat, unbrac'd, his Arms a cross his open breast; and his eyes bent to the Floor; and not taking any notice when the Pages enter'd, his own was forc [...]d to pull him by the Sleeve, before he wou'd look up, and starting from a thousand thoughts that opprest him almost to death, he gaz'd wildly about him and [Page 310] ask'd their business: When the Page deliver'd him the Letter; he took it, but with such confu­sion as he had much a do to sup­port himself, but resolving not to shew his feebleness to her Page he made a shift to get to a Wax Light, that was on the Table and read it; and was not much a­maz'd at the contents, believing she was persuing the business of her Sex and Life, and Jilting him on; (for such was his opinion of all Women now) he forc'd a smile of scorn, tho' his Soul were burst­ing, and turning to the Page gave him a liberal reward, as was his daily use when he came, and Muster'd up so much Courage as to force himself to say—Child tell your Lady it requires no answer, you may tell her too, that I am in perfect good Health—He was opprest to speak more, but sighs [Page 311] stopp'd him, and his former reso­lution, wholly to abandon all cor­rispondence with her, check'd his forward Tongue; and he walk'd away to prevent himself from say­ing more: While the Page, who wonder'd at this turn of Love, after a little waiting, departed, and when Octavio had ended his walk, and turn'd, and saw him gone, his heart felt a thousand pangs not to be born or suppor­ted; he was often ready to recal him, and was angry the Boy did not urge him for an answer, he read the Letter again, and won­ders at nothing now after her last nights Action, tho all was riddle to him; he found 'twas writ to some happier man than himself, however he chanc'd to have it by mistake, and turning to the outside, view'd the superscription; where there happen'd to be none [Page 312] at all, for Silvia writ in haste and when she did it 'twas the least of her thoughts: And now he believ'd he had found out the real Mystery, that it was not meant to him; he therefore calls his Page, whom he sent immedi­ately after that of Silvia, who being yet below (for the Lads were laughing together for a moment) he brought him to his distracted Lord; who neverthe­less assum'd a mildness to the in­nocent Boy, and cry'd My Child thou hast mistaken the person to whom thou shou'dst have carried the Letter, and I am sorry I open'd it; pray return it to the happy Man 'twas meant to, giving him the Letter; My Lord reply [...]d the Boy, I do not use to carry Letters to any but your Lordship: 'Tis the foot­mens business to do that to other persons: 'Tis a mistake, where ever [Page 313] it lies, cry'd Octavio sighing, whe­ther in thee or thy Lady—So tur­ning from the wondering Boy he left him to return with his Let­ter to his Lady, who grew mad at the relation of what she heard from the Page, and notwithstan­ding the torment she had on her Soul occasioned by Philander, she now found she had more to in­dure, and that in spight of all her love V [...]ws and resentments, she had something for Octavio to which she cou'd not give a Name, she fancies it all pride, and concern for the indignity put on her Beau­ty? but what ever it was this slight of his so wholly took up her Soul, that she had for some­time quite forgot Philander, or when she did think on him 'twas with less resentment than of this affront; she considers Philander with some excuse now; as have­ing [Page 314] long been [...] of a hap­piness he might grow weary off; but a new Lover, who had for six months incessantly lain at her feet, imploring, dying, vowing, weeping, sighing, giving, and acting all things the most passio­nate of men was capable of, or that love cou'd inspire, for him to be at last admitted to the possession of the ravishing Object of his Vows and Soul, to be laid in her Bed; nay in her very Arms (as She imagin'd he thought) and then, even before gathering the Roses he came to pluck, before he had begun to compose, or fi­nisht his Nosegay: To depart the happy Paradise with a disgust, and such a disgust, as first to ob­lige him to dissemble sickness, and next fall even from all his Civil­lities: Was a contempt she was not able to bear: especially from [Page 315] him who of all men living she design'd to make the greatest property of, as most fit for her revenge, of all degrees and sorts: But when she reflected with rea­son, (which she seldom did, for ei­ther Love or rage blinded that) she cou'd not conceive it possible that Octavio cou'd be fall'n so sud­denly from all his Vows and pro­fessions, but on some very great provocation: Sometimes she thinks he tempted her to try her Vertue to Philander, and being a perfect Honourable friend, hates her for her Levity, but she considers his pre­sents, and his unwearied industry, and believes he wou'd not at that expence have bought a knowledg which cou'd profit neither him­self or Philander; then she believes some disgustful Scent or something about Antonett might disoblige him; but having call'd the Maid [Page 316] [...]onjuring her to tell her whether any thing past between her and Octavio; she again told her Lady the whole truth, in which there cou'd be no discovery of infirmi­ty there; she imbrac'd her, she kiss'd her bosom, and found her touches soft, her breath and Bo­som sweet as any thing in Na­ture cou'd be; and now lost al­most in a Confusion of thought, she cou'd not tell what to ima­gine; at last she being wholly possest that all the fault was not in Octavio, (for too often we be­lieve as we hope) she concludes that Antonett has told him all the cheat she put upon him: This last thought pleas'd her, because it seem'd the most probable, and was the most favourable to her self; and a thought, that if true cou'd not do her any injury with him▪ This set her heart [Page 317] a little to rights, and she grew calm with a belief, that if so it was, as now she doubted not, a sight of her, or a future hope from her, wou'd calm all his dis­content, and beget a right un­derstanding: She therefore re­solves to write to him and own her little fallacy: But before she did so; Octavio whose passion was as violent as ever in his Soul, tho 'twas opprest with a thou­sand torments, and languisht un­der as many feeble resolutions, burst at last into all its former soft­ness, and he resolves to write to the false Fair One, a [...]d upbraid her with he [...] last Nights in [...]ide­lity: Nor cou'd he sleep till he had that way Charm'd his senses, and [...] It be­ing [...] and he [...] [...] Chamber, he set him­self down, and writ this.

This letter came just as Silvia was going to write to him; of which she was extreamly glad▪ for all along there was nothing exprest that cou'd make her think he meant any other than the cheat she put upon him in Antonett instead of her self: And it was some ease to her mind to be assur'd of the cause of his anger and absence, and to find her own thought confirm'd, [...] [Page 324] he had indeed discover'd the truth of the matter: she knew since that was all she cou'd easily reconcile him by a plain confession, and gi­ving him new hopes; she there­fore writes this answer to him, which she sent by his Page, who waited for it.

[Page 326]It being late, she only sent this short Billet: And not hoping that Night to see him, she went to bed, after having inquir'd the health of Briljard whom she heard was very ill; and that young defeated Lover finding it impossible to meet Octavio as he had promis'd, not to fight him but to ask his pardon for his mistake, he made a shift with much ado to write him a Note▪ which was this:

[Page 327]This Billet, tho it signifi'd no­thing to Octavio, it serv'd Silvia afterwards to very good use and purpose, as a little time shall make appear: And Octavio re­ceiv'd these two Notes from Bril­jard and Silvia, at the same time; the one he flung by regardless, the other he read with infinite pain, scorn, hate, indignation, all at once storm'd in his heart, he fe [...]t every passion there but that of Love, which caus'd 'em all; if he thought her false and ungrate­ful before, he now thinks her fall'n to the lowest degree of lewdness, to own her Crime with such impudence; he fancies now he's cur'd of Love, and hates her absolutely, thinks her below even his scorn, and puts himself to bed, believing he shall sleep as well as before he saw the Light, the foo­lish Silvia: But oh he boasts in [Page 328] vain, the Light, the foolish Sil­via was Charming still; still all the Beauty appear'd, even in his slumbers the Angell dawn'd about him, and all the Fend was laid: He sees her lovely Face, but the false heart is hid; he hears her Charming Wit, but all the cun­nings husht; he views the moti­ons▪ of her delicate Body, with­out regard to those of her mind, he thinks of all the tender words she has given him, in which the Jilting part is lost, and all for­gotten, or if by chance it crost his happier thought, he rowls and tumble in his Bed, he raves and calls upon her charming Name, till he have quite forgot it, and takes all the pains he can to de­ceive his own heart: Oh 'tis a tender part; and can indure no hurt; he sooths it therefore, and at the worst resolves, since the [Page 329] vast blessing may be purchas'd, to revel in delight; and cure himself that way: These flatte­ring thoughts kept him all night waking, and in the Morning he resolves his Visit; but taking up her Letter which lay on the Ta­ble, he read it o're again, and by degrees, wrought himself up to madness, at the thought that Silvia was possest; Philander he cou'd bear with little patience, but that because before he lov'd or knew her, he cou'd allow; but this—This wrecks his very Soul; and in his height of fury writes this Letter without consideration.

This in a Mad moment he wr [...]t, and sent it e're he had consider'd farther, and Silvia who expected not so course and rough a return, grew as mad as he in [Page 331] reading it; and she had much a [...] do to hold her hands off from beating the innocent Page that brought it: To whom she turn'd with fire in her Eyes, [...]lames in her Cheeks, and Thunder on her Tongue, and cry'd, Go tell your Master, that he is a Villain? and if you dare approach me any more from him? I'le have my Footmen whip you? and with a scorn that discover'd all the indignation in the World she turn'd from him and tearing his Note, threw it from her and walk'd her way: And the Page thunderstruck re­turn'd to his Lord, who by this time was repenting he had ma­nag'd his passion no better; and [...]t what the Boy told him, was wholly convinc'd of his Error, he now consider'd her Character and quallity; and accus'd himself of great indiscretion; and as he [Page 332] was sitting the most dejected melancholly man on Earth, re­flecting on his misfortune, the Post arriv'd with Letters from Phi­lander, which he open'd and lay­ing by that which was inclos'd for Silvia he read that from Philan­der to himself:

If Octavio's Trouble were great before from but his fear of Calista's yielding, what must it be now, when he found all his fears confirm'd, the pressures of his Soul were too extream be [...] fore, and the concern he had for Silvia had brought it to the highest tide of Grief; so that this addition, o're whelm'd it quite, and left him no room for rage; no, it cou'd not discharge it self so happily, but bow'd and yield [...] ed to all the extreams of Love, grief, and sense of Honour? he threw himself upon his Bed, and lay without sense or motion for a whole hour, confus'd with thought, and divided in his con­cern, half for a Mistress false, and [Page 375] half for a Sister loose and undone; by turns the Sister and the Mi­stress torture; by turns they break his heart, he had this com­fort left before, that if Calista were undone, her ruin made way for his Love and happiness with Silvia, but now—he had no prospect left, that cou'd afford any ease, he changes from one [...]ad Object to another, from Silvia to Calista, then back to Silvia, but like to feverish men, that toss about here and there, remove for some relief, he shifts but to new pain, where e're he turns he finds the mad man still, in this distraction of thought he re­main'd till a Page from Silvia, brought him this Letter: Which in midst of all, he started from his Bed with excess of joy and read.

He finisht this Letter reading with Tears of tender Love; but considering it all over he fancy [...]d [Page 379] she had put great Constraint up­on her natural high Spirit, to write in this Calm manner to him, and through all he found dissem­bl'd rage, which yet was visible in that one breaking out in the middle of the Letter: He found she was not able to contain at the Word common Mistress, in fine how ever Calm it was, and however design'd, he found at least, he thought he found, the Charming Jilt all over; he fan­cies from the hint she gave him of the change of Antonett for her self in Bed, that it was some new cheat that was to be put upon him, and to bring her self off with Credit: Yet in Spight of all this appearing reason, he wishes, and has a secret hop [...] that either she is not in fault, or that she will so cozen him into a belief she is not, that it may serve as well [Page 380] to sooth his willing heart; and now all he fears is, that she will not put so neat a Cheat upon him, but that he shall be able to see through it, and still be ob­lig'd to retain his ill Opinion of her: But love return'd, she had rous'd the flame a new; and soften'd all his rougher thoughts with this dear Letter, and now in haste he calls for his Cloaths, and suffering himself to be drest with all the advantage of his Sex, he throws himself into his Coach, and goes to Silvia, whom he finds just drest en Chavalier, (and setting her Hat and Feather in good order, before the Glass) with a design to depart the town, at least so far as shou'd have rais'd a concern in Octavio, if yet he had any for her, to have follow'd her; he ran up without asking leave into her Chamber▪ [Page 381] and e're she was aware of him▪ threw himself at her Feet, and clasping her knees, to which he fixt his mouth, he remain'd there for a little space without life or motion, and prest her in his Arms as fast as a dying man. She was not offended to see him there, and he appear'd more lovely than ever he yet had been. His grief had added a languish­ment and paleness to his Face; which suffi [...]iently told her he had not been at ease while absent from her; and on the other side Silvia appear'd ten thousand times more Charming than ever; that dress of a Boy adding extreamly to her Beauty, Oh you are a pretty Lover, said she, raising him from her knees to her Arms, to treat a Mistress so for a little in­nocent raillery.—Come sit and tell me how you came to discover the [Page 382] harmless [...] cheat; setting him down on the side of her Bed: Oh name it no more cry'd he, let that damn'd Night be blotted from the year, deceive me, flatter me, say you are innocent, tell me my se [...]ses rave, my E [...]es were false, deceitful, and my Ears were deaf: Say any thing that may convince m [...] madness, and bring me back to tame adoring Love. What means Octavio, re­ply'd Silvia, sure he is not so nice and squemish a Lover, but a fair young Maid might have been wel­come to him coming so prepar'd for Love; tho it was not she whom he expected▪ it might bave serv'd as well i'th' dark at least. Well said, reply'd Octavio forcing a smile—adv [...]nce, pursue the dear design, and cheat me still, and to convince my Soul, oh swear it too, for Women want no weapons of defence, Oaths, Vows, and Tears, [Page 383] sighs, imprecations, ravings, are all the tools to fashion mankind Cox­combs, I am an easie fellow fit for use, and long to be initiated Fool, come swear I was not here the other Night. 'Tis granted Sir you were, Why all this passion? This Silvia spoke and took him by the hand, which burnt with raging Fire; and tho he spoke with all the heat of Love, his looks were soft the while as infant Cupids, still he proceeded, Oh Charming Sil­via, since yon are so unkind to tell me truth, cease, cease to speak at all, and let me only gaze upon those Eyes that can so well deceive: Their looks are innocent, at least they'le flatter me, and tell mine that the lost their faculties that other Night: No, reply'd Silvia, I am convinc'd they did not, you saw Antonett—Conduct a hap­p [...] man (interpreted he) to Sil­via's [Page 384] Bed, oh why by your confessi­on must my Soul be tortur'd o're a new! at this he hung his heap up­on his Bosom, and sight, as if each breath wou'd be his last. Heavens! cry'd Silvia, what is't Octavio says, Conduct a happy Lo­ver to my Bed; by all that's Sa­cred I'm abus'd, design [...]d upon to be betray'd and lost; what said you Sir, a Lover to my Bed! When he reply'd in a fainting tone, clasp­ing her to his Arms, now Silvia, you are kind, be perfect Woman, and keep to couzeniug still—N [...]w back it with a very little Oath, and I am as well as e're I saw your falshood, and ne're will lose one thought upon it more. Forbear, said she, you'le make me angry: In short what is it you wou'd say, or swear you rave, and then I'le pity what I now despise, if you can think me false. He only answer'd with a [Page 385] sigh, and she pursu'd, am I not worth an answer; tell me your Soul and thoughts, as e're you hope for favour from my Love, or to pre­serve my quiet. If you will pro­mise me to say 'tis false, reply'd he softly, I will confess the Errors of my senses. I came the other Night at twelve, the door was open—'Tis true, said Silvia—At the Stairs Foot I found a man, and saw him led to you, into your Chamber; sighing as he went, and panting with impatience: Now Silvia if you value my Repose, my life, my Repu­tation, or my services▪ turn it off hand­somly and I [...]m happy: At that being wholly amaz'd, she told him the whole story, as you heard, of her dressing Antonett, and bringing him to her, at which he smil'd, and beg'd her to go on—She fetch the pieces of Briljards coun­terfeit Letters, and shew'd him; [Page 386] this brought him a little to his his Wits; and at first sight he was ready to fancy the Letters came indeed from him, he found the Character his, but not the busi­ness: And in great amaze re­ply'd, Ah Madam, did you know Octavio's Soul so well, and cou'd you imagin e it capable os a thought like this? A presumption so dare­ing to the most awful of her Sex: This was unkind indeed: And did you answer 'em? Yes, reply'd she, with all kindness I cou'd force my Pen to express: So that after canvasing the matter, and relating the whole story again with his being taken ill, they concluded from every Circumstance Briljard was the man; for Antonett was cal [...]d to Councel, who now recollecting all things in her mind, and know­ing Briljard but too well; she confest she verily believ'd it was [Page 389] he, especially when she told how she stole a Letter of Octavio's for him that day, and how he was ill of the same disease still. Octavio then call'd his Page, and sent him home for the Note Briljard had sent him, and all appear'd as clear as day: But Antonett met with a great many reproaches for shewing her Ladies Letters, which she excus'd as well as she cou'd: But never man was so ra­visht with joy as Octavio was at the knowledge of Silvia's inno­cence; a thousand times he kneel'd and beg'd her Pardon, and her figure incouraging his Caresses; a thousand times he imbrac'd her, he smil'd, and blusht, and sight with Love and Joy, and knew not how to express it most effectually: And Silvia, who had other business than Love in her heart and head, suffer'd all the [Page 390] marks of his eager passion and transport, out of design, for she had a farther use to make of O­ctavia▪ tho when she survey'd his person handsom, young, and adorn'd with all the Graces and Beauties of his Sex; not at all inf [...]rior to Philander, if not ex­ceeding in every Judgement but that of Silvia; when she consi­der'd his Soul, where Wit, Love and Honour equally reign'd, when she consults the excellence of his Nature, his Generosity, Courage, Friendship, and softness, she sight and cry'd, 'twas pity to impose upon him; and make his Love, for which she shou'd esteem him, a property to draw him to his ruin, for so she fancy'd it must be if ever he incounter'd Philander; and tho good Nature was the least ingredient that form'd the Soul of this fair Char­mer, [Page 391] yet now she [...]ound she had a mixture of it, from her concern for Octavio; and that generous Lover made her so many soft Vows, and tender pr [...]testations of the respect, and awfulness of his passion, that she was wholly convinc'd he was her Slave, nor cou'd she see the constant Lan­guisher pouring out his Soul and fortune at her feet, without suf­fering some warmth about her heart, which she had never felt, but for Philander; and this day she exprest her self more oblige­ingly than ever she had done: And allows him littl [...] freedoms of approaching her with more softeness than hitherto she had; and absolutely Charm'd, he pro­mises lavishly and without re­serve, all she wou'd ask of him; and in requital she assur'd him all he cou'd wish or hope, if he [Page 392] wou'd serve her in her revenge against Philander: She recounts to him at large the story of her undoing, her quality, her For­tune, her nice education, the care and tenderness of her Noble Pa­rents, and charges all her Fate to the evil Conduct of her heed [...]less youth: Sometimes the refle­ction on her ruin, she looking back upon her former innocence and tranquillity, forces the Tears to flow from her fair Eyes, and makes Octavio sigh and weep by simpathy: Sometimes (arriv'd at the Amorous part of her relation, [...]he wou'd sigh and languish with the remembrance of past Joys, in their beginning love;) and sometimes smile at the little un­lucky adventures they met with, and their escapes; so that diffe­rent passions seiz [...]d her Soul while she spoke, while that of all love [Page 393] fill'd Octavio's: He doats, he burns, and every word she ut­ters inflames him still the more; he fixes his very Soul upon her Tongue, and darts his very Eyes into her face, and every thing she says raises his vast esteem and passion higher: In fine, ha­ving with the Eloquence of sacred Wit, and all the Charms of every differing Passion finisht her moving tale, they both declin'd their Eyes, whose falling show­ers kept equal time and pace, and for a little time were still as thought: When Octavio, opprest with mighty Love! broke the soft silence, and burst into extra­vagance of passion, says all that men (grown mad with love and wishing) cou'd utter to the Idol of the heart; and to oblige her more recounts his Life in short; where in, in spight of all his modesty, [Page 394] [...]the found all that was great and brave; all that was Noble, For­tunate, and Honest: And having now confirm'd her, he deserv'd her, kneeling implor'd she wou'd accept of him▪ not as a Lover for a Term of passion, for dates of Months or years, but for a long Eternity; not as a rifler of her Sacred Honour, but to defend it from the sensuring World; he vow'd he wou'd forget that ever [...]ny part of it was lost, nor by a look or Action e're upbraid her with a misfortune past, but still look forward, on Nobler joys to come: And now implores that he may bring a Priest to tie the Solemn knot: In spight of all her Love for Philander, she cou'd not chuse but take this offer kindly, and indeed it made a very great impression on her heart, she knew nothing but the height of Love [Page 395] cou'd oblige a man of his quali­ty, and vast fortune, with all the advantages of youth and Beauty, to marry her in so ill Circum­stances; and paying him first those acknowledgments that were due on so great an occasion, with all the tenderness in her Voice and Eyes that she cou'd put on; she excus'd her self from receiv­ing the Favour, by telling him she was so unfortunate as to be with Child by the ungrateful man: And falling at that thought into new Tears, she mov'd him to infinite Love; and infinite compassion; in so much that wholly abandoning himself to softness, he assur'd her, if she wou'd secure him all his happi­ness by marrying him now, that he wou'd wait till she were brought to Bed, before he wou'd demand the glorious recompence [Page 396] he aspir'd to; so that Silvia be­ing opprest with Obligation, find­ing yet in her Soul a violent passion fo [...] [...] [...]hilander, she knew not how to take, or how to re­fuse the Blessing offer'd, since O­ctavio was a man, whom in her height of innocence and youth she might have been vain and proud of ingaging to this degree: He saw her pain and irresolution, and being absolutely undone with love, delivers her Philanders last Letter to him, with what he had sent her inclos'd; the sight of the very outside of it made her grow pale as Death; and a feebleness seiz'd her all o­ver that made her unable for a moment to open it; all which, con­fusion Octavio saw with pain; which she perceiving recollected her thoughts as well as she cou'd, and open'd it and read it; that [Page 397] Octavio first, as being fondest of the continuation of the History of his falshood, she re [...] ▪ and of­ten paus'd to recover her Spirits that were fainting at every peri­od; and having finisht it, she fell down on the Bed, where they sate; Octavio caught her in her fall in his Arms, where she remain'd [...]ead some moments; While he, just on the point of being so him­self, ravingly call'd for help, and Antonett being in the dressing Room ranto 'em, and by de­grees Silvia recover'd and ask'd Octavio a thousand p [...]rdons for exposing a weakness to him, which was but the effects of the last blaze of Love: And taking a Cordial which A [...]tonett brought her▪ she rous'd▪ resolv'd,—and took Octavio by the hand; Now, said she, shew you [...] self that gene­rous Lo [...]er you have profest and [Page 398] give me your Vows of revenge on Philander, and after that, by all that's Holy, kneeling as she spoke, and holding him fast, by all my injur'd innocence, by all my Noble Fathers wrong, and my dear Mothers grief; by all my Sisters sufferings; I swear! I le marry you, love you, and give you all! this she spoke without con­sidering Antonett was by, and spoke it with all the rage and blushes in her Face, that inj [...]r'd Love and revenge cou'd inspire: And on the other side, the sense of his Sisters Honour so [...]t, and that of the tender pa [...]sion he had for Silvia, made him swe [...]r by all that was sacred, and by all the Vows of Eternal Love and Honour he had made to Silvia, to go and revenge himself and her on the fal [...]e Friend and Lo­ver; and confest the second mo­tive; [Page 399] which was his Sisters Fame, For, cry'd he, that foul Adultress, that false Calista, is so all [...]ed to me: But still he urg'd that wou'd add to the ju [...]ness of his cause, if he might depart her Husband as well as Lover; and revenge an Injur'd wife as well as Sister; and now h [...] cou'd ask nothing, she did not easily grant; and be­cause 'twas late in the day they conclude that the Morning shall consumate all his desires: And now she gives him her Letter to read, For [...] said she, I shall esteem my self henceforth so absolutely O­ctavio's, that I will not so much as read a Line from that perjur'd ruiner of my Honour, he took the Let­ter with smiles and bows of gra­titude, and read it:

You lie, false Vi [...]ain—reply'd Silvia in mighty rage; I can guess your business, and can revenge it too, curse on thee Slave; to think me grown as poor in sense, as Ho­nour: To be caj [...]l'd with this— Stuff that wou'd ne [...]er sham a Chamber Maid: Death am I so forlorn, so despicable, I am not worth the pains of being well dis­sembl'd with. Confusion overtake him; misery seize him, may I be­come his plague, while life remains, [Page 402] or publique tortures end him: This with all the madness that ever inspir'd a Lunatick, she utter'd with Tears and Violent Actions: When Octa [...]io besought her not to afflict her self, and almost wisht he did not love a temper so contrary to his own: He told her he was sorry, extreamly sor­ry, to find she still retain'd so vio­lent a passion for a m [...]n unworthy of her least concern, when she reply'd—Do not mistake my soul, by Heav'n 'tis Pride, disdain, despight and ha [...]e—to think he shou'd believe this dull excuse cou [...]d pass upon my judgment, had the false Traytor told me that he hated me, or that his faithle [...]s date of Love was out, I had been tame with all my injuries, but poorly thus to impose upon my Wit— By Heav'n he shall not bear the affront to Hell in Triumph! no [Page 403] more—I've vow'd he shall not,— My Soul has fixt, and now will be at ease.—Forgive me, oh Octa­vio, and letting her self fall into his Arms, she soon obtain'd what she ask'd for, one touch of the fair Charmer cou'd calm him in­to Love, and softness.

Thus after a thousand trans­ports of passion on his side, and all the seeming tenderness on hers the Night being far ad­vanc'd, and new Confirmations given and taken on either side of pursuing the happy Agree­ment in the Morning, which they had again resolv'd, they appointed that Silvia and Antonett shou'd go three Miles out of Town to a little Vil­lage, where there was a Church, and that Octavio shou'd meet 'em there to be Confirm'd and secur'd of all the happiness [Page 404] he propos'd to himself in this World—Silvia, being so wholly bent upon revenge (for the accomplishment of which a­lone, she accepted of Octavio,) that she had lost all remem­brance of her former Marriage, with Briljard: Or if it ever enter'd into her thought 'twas only consider'd as a sham, no­thing design'd but to secure her from being taken from Philan­der by her Parents: And, with­out any respect to the Sacred tie, to be regarded no more; nor did she design this with O­ctavio from any respect she had to the Holy State of Matrimo­ny, but from a Lust of Venge­ance which she wou'd buy at any price; and which she found no Man so well able to satisfie as Octavio.

But what wretched changes [Page 401] of Fortune she met with after this, and a miserable Portion of Fate was destin'd to this un­happy Wanderer; the last Part▪ of Philanders Life, and the Third and Last Part of this History, shall most Faithfully re­late.

THE AMOURS OF PHILANDER and SILVIA.

OCTAVIO the Brave, the Generous, and the Amorous, having left Silvia absolutely resolv'd to give her self to that doting fond Lover, or rather to sacrifice her self to her Revenge, that unconsi­dering Unfortunate, whose Passion had expos'd him to all the unrea­sonable Effects of it, return'd to his own House, wholly transported with his happy Success. He thinks on nothing but vast coming Joys: Nor did one kind Thought direct him back to the evil Consequences of [Page 2] what he so hastily pursu'd; he re­flects not on her Circumstances, but her Charms; not on the Infamy he should espouse with Silvia, but of those ravishing Pleasures she was capable of giving him: he regards not the Reproaches of his Friends; but wholly abandon'd to Love and youthful Imaginations, gives a Loose to young Desire and Fancy, that de­ludes him with a thousand soft Ideas: He reflects not that his gentle and easy Temper, was most unfit to joyn with that of Silvia, which was the most haughty and humorous in Nature; for tho' she had all the Charms of Youth and Beauty, that are conquering in her Sex, all the Wit and Insinuation that even sur­passes Youth and Beauty, yet to ren­der her Character impartially, she had also abundance of disagreeing Qualities mixt with her Perfections. She was Imperious and Proud, even to Insolence; Vain and Concei­ted even to Folly; she knew her [Page 3] Vertues and her Graces too well, and her Vices too little; she was very Opinionated and Obstinate, hard to be convinced of the falsest Ar­gument, but very positive in her fancied Judgment: Abounding in her own Sense, and very critical on that of others: Censorious, and too apt to charge others with those Crimes to which she was her self addicted, or had been guilty of: A­morously inclin'd, and indiscreet in the Management of her Amours, and constant rather from Pride and Shame than Inclination; fond of catching at every trifling Conquest, and lov'd the Triumph tho' she ha­ted the Slave. Yet she had Ver­tues too, that balanc'd her Vices, among which we must allow her to have lov'd Philander with a Passion, that nothing but his Ingratitude could have decay'd in her Heart, nor was it lessen'd but by a Force that gave her a thousand Tortures, Racks, and Pangs, which had al­most [Page 4] cost her her less valu'd Life; for being of a Temper nice in Love, and very fiery, apt to fly into Rages at every Accident that did but touch that tenderest Part, her Heart; she suffered a world of Violence and Ex­tremity of Rage and Grief by turns: at this Affront and Inconstancy of Philander. Nevertheless she was now so discreet, or rather Cunning, to dis­semble her Resentment the best she could to her generous Lover, for whom she had more Inclination than she yet had leisure to perceive, and which she now attributes wholly to her Revenge; and considering Octa­vio as the most proper Instrument for that, she fancies, what was in­deed a growing Tenderness from the sense of his Merit, to be the Effects of that Revenge she so much desi­red and thirsted after; and tho' with­out she dissembled a Calm; with­in she was all Fury and Disorder, all Storm and Distraction: She went to Bed rack'd with a thousand [Page 5] thoughts of dispairing Love; some­times all the Softness of Philander in their happy Enjoyments came in view, and made her sometimes weep, and sometimes faint with the dear lov'd Remembrance; sometimes his late Enjoyments with Calista, and then she rav'd and burnt with fran­tick Rage: But oh! at last she found her Hope was gon, and wisely fell to argue with her Soul. She knew Love would not long subsist on the thin Diet of Dispair, and resolving he was never to be retriev'd who once had ceas'd to Love, she strove to bend her Soul to useful Reason, and thinks on all Octavio's Obliga­tions, his Vows, his Assiduity, his Beauty, his Youth, his Fortune, and his generous Offer, and with the Aid of Pride resolves to unfix her Heart, and give it better Treatment in his Bosom: To cease at least to love the false Philander, if she could never force her Soul to hate him: And tho' this was not so soon done [Page 6] as thought on, in a Heart so pre­possest as that of Silvia's, yet there is some Hope of a Recovery, when a Woman in that Extremity will but think of listening to Love from any new Adorer; and having once re­solv'd to pursue the Fugitive no more with the natural Artillery of their Sighs and Tears, Reproaches and Complaints, they have Re­course to every thing that may soon­est chase from the Heart those Thoughts that oppress it: For Na­ture is not inclin'd to hurt it self, and there are but very few who find it necessary to die of the Disease of Love. Of this sort was our Silvia, tho' to give her her due, never any Person who did not indeed die, e­ver languished under the Torments of Love, as did that charming and afflicted Maid.

While Silvia remain'd in these eternal Inquietudes, Antonett ha­ving quitted her Chamber, takes this Opportunity to go to that of Brilljard, [Page 7] whom she had not visited in two days before, being extreamly trou­bled at his Design which she now found he had on her Lady; she had a mind to vent her Spleen, and as the Proverb says, call W—re first. Brill­jard long'd as much to see her, to rail at her for being privy to Octa­vio's Approach to Silvia's Bed, as he thought (she imagin'd) and not giving him an account of it, as she us'd to do, of all the Secrets of her Lady. She finds him alone in his Chamber, recover'd from all but the Torments of his unhappy Dis­appointment. She approach'd him with all the Anger her sort of Pas­sion could inspire (for Love in a mean unthinking Soul, is not that glorious thing it is in the Brave) however she had enough to serve her Pleasure, for Brilljard was young and handsome, and both being bent on Railing, without knowing each others Intentions, they both equal­ly flew into high Words; he up­braiding [Page 8] her with her Infidelity, and she him with his. Are not you, said he (growing more calm) the falsest of your Tribe, to keep a Secret from me that so much concern'd me? is it for this I have refus'd the Addres­ses of Burgomasters Wives and Daugh­ters, where I could have made my Fortune and my Satisfaction, to keep myself intirely for a thing that be­trays me, and keeps every Secret of her Heart from me? false and for­sworn, I will be Fool no more. 'Tis well Sir (reply'd Antonett) that you having been the most perfidious Man alive, should accuse me who am Inno­cent; Come, come Sir, you have not carried Matters so swimingly but I could easily dive into the other Nights In [...]rig [...] and Secret. What Secret, tho [...] false one? Thou art all over se­cret; a very hopeful Bawd at eigh­teen—go I hate ye—At this she wept, and he pursu'd his Railing to out-noyse her, You thought because your Deeds were done in Darkness, [Page 9] they were conceal'd from a Lovers Eyes; no thou young Viper, I saw, I heard, and felt, and satisfi'd eve­ry Sense of this thy Falshood, when Octavio was conducted to Silvia's Bed by thee. But what, said she, if in­stead of Octavio I conducted the per­fidious Traytor to love Brilljard? Who then was false and perjur'd? At this he blush'd extreamly, which was too visible on his fair Face. She being now confirm'd she had the better of him, continued—Let thy Confusion, said she with Scorn, wit­ness the Truth of what I say, and I have been but too well acquainted with that Body of yours, weeping as she spoke, to mistake it for that of Octa­vio. Softly dear Antonett, reply'd he, —nay now your Tears have calm'd me; and taking her in his Arms, sought to appease her by all the Arguments of seeming Love and Tenderness; while she yet wholly unsatisfied in that Cheat of his of going to Silvia's Bed, remain'd still [Page 10] pouting and very frumpish. But he that had but one Argument left, that on all Occasions serv'd to convince her, had at last Recourse to that, which put her in good Hu­mour, and hanging on his Neck she kindly chid him for puting such a Trick upon her Lady. He told her, and confirm'd it with an Oath, That he did it but to try how far she was Just to his Friend and Lord, and not any Desire he had for a Beauty that was too much of his own Complexion to charm him, 'twas only the Brunet and the Black, such as her self, that could move him to Desire; thus he shams her into per­fect Peace. And why, said she, were you not satisfied that she was False, as well from the Assignation as the Tryal. Oh no, said he, you Women have a thousand Arts of Gibing, and no Man ought to believe you, but put you to the Tryal. Well, said she, when I had brought you to the Bed, when you found her Arms stretch'd out [Page 11] to receive you, why did you not retire like an honest Man, and leave her to her self? Oh fy, said he, that had not been to have acted Octavio to the Life, but would have made a Disco­very. Ay, said she, that was your Aim to have acted Octavio to the Life, I believe, and not to discover my Lady's Constancy to your Lord, but I suppose you have been sworn at the But of Hedleburgh, never to kiss the Maid when you can kiss the Mi­stress: But he renewing his Caresses and Asseverations of Love to her, she suffered herself to be convinc'd of all he had a mind to have her believe. After this she could not contain any Secret from him, but told him she had something to say to him, which if he knew, would convince him she had all the Passion in the World for him: He presses eagerly to know, and she pursues to tell him, 'tis as much as her Life is worth to discover it, and that she lies under the Obligation of an Oath [Page 12] not to tell it; but Kisses and Rheto­rick prevails, and she crys—What will you say now if my Lady may Marry one of the greatest and most con­siderable Persons in all this Country? I should not wonder at her Conquests (reply'd Brilljard) but I should wonder if she should Marry. Then cease your Wonder, reply'd she, for she is to morrow to be married to Count Octa­vio, whom she is to meet at nine in the Morning to that end, at a little Village a League from this place. She spoke, and he believes; and finds it true by the raging of his Blood, which he could not conceal from Antonett, and for which he feigns a thousand Excuses to the Amorous Maid, and charges his Concern on that for his Lord: At last (after some more Discourse on that Sub­ject) he pretends to grow sleepy, and hastens her to her Chamber, and locking the Door after her, he began to reflect on what she had said, and grew to all the Torment [Page 13] of Rage, Jealousie, and all the Di­spairs of a passionate Lover: And tho' his Hope was not Exstreme be­fore, yet as Lovers do, he found, or fancy'd a Probability (from his Lords Inconstancy, and his own right of Marriage) that the Necessity she might chance to be in of his Friend­ship and Assistance in a strange Country, might some happy Mo­ment or other render him the Bles­sing he so long had waited for from Silvia; for he ever design'd, when either his Lord left her, grew cold, or should happen to die, to put in his Claim of Husband. And the soft familiar way, with which she eter­nally liv'd with him, incourag'd this Hope and Design; nay she had often made him Advances to that happy Expectation. But this fatal Blow had driven him from all his fancy'd Joys, to the most wretched Estate of a desperate Lover. He traverses his Chamber wounded with a thousand different Thoughts, mixt [Page 14] with those of preventing this Union the next Morning. Sometimes he resolves to fight Octavio, for his Birth might pretend to it, and he wanted no Courage; but he is afraid of being overcome by that gallant Man, and either loosing his Hopes with his Life, or if he kill Octavio, to be forc'd to fly from his Happi­ness, or die an ignominious Death. Sometimes he resolves to own Sil­via for his Wife, but then he fears the Rage of that dear Object of his Soul, which he dreads more than Death it self: So that tost from one Extream to another, from one Reso­lution to a hundred, he was not a­ble to fix upon any thing. In this Perplexity he remain'd till Day ap­pear'd; that Day that must advance with his undoing, while Silvia and Antonett were preparing for the De­sign concluded on the last Night. This he heard, and every Minute that approach'd gave him new Tor­ments, so that now he would have [Page 15] given himself to the Prince of Dark­ness for a kind Disappointment: He was often ready to go and throw himself at her Feet, and plead against her Enterprize in hand, and to urge the unlawfulness of a double Mar­riage, ready to make Vows for the Fidelity of Philander, tho' before so much against his own Interest, and to tell her all those Letters from him were forg'd: He thought on all things, but nothing remain'd with him, but Dispair of every thing. At last the Devil and his own Subtilty, put him upon a Pre­vention, tho' base, yet the most likely to succeed in his Opinion.

He knew there were many Facti­ons in Holland, and that the States themselves were divided in their In­terests, and a thousand Jealousies and Fears were eternally spread amongst the Rable; there were Cabals for e­very Interest, that of the French so prevailing, that of the English, and that of the Illustrious Orange, and [Page 16] others for the States; so that it was not a Difficulty to move any Mis­chief, and pass it off among the Crowd for dangerous Consequen­ces. Brilljard knew each Division, and which way they were inclin'd, he knew Octavio was not so well with the States as not to be easily rendred worse; for he was so in­tirely a Creature and Favourite of the Prince that they conceiv'd abundance of Jealousies of him which they durst not own. Brilljard besides knew a great Man, who having a Pique to Octavio, might the sooner be brought to receive any ill Character of him: To this sullen Magistrate he applies himself, and deluding the Credulous busie old Man with a thousand circumstantial Lies, he disco­vers to him that Octavio held a Cor­respondence with the French King to betray the State; and that he Ca­ball'd to that end with some who were look'd upon as French Rebels, but indeed were no other than Spies [Page 17] to France. This coming from a Man of that Party, and whose Lord was a French Rebel, gain'd a perfect Credit with the old Sr. Politi [...]; so that immediately hasting to the State-House he lays this weighty Affair before them, who soon found it rea­sonable, and if not true, at least they fear'd, and sent out a Warrant for the speedy apprehending him; but coming to his House, tho' early, they found him gone, and being in­form'd which way he took, th [...] Mes­senger pursu'd him, and found his Coach at the Door of a Caberett, too Obscure for his Quality; which made them apprehend this was some place of Rendezvouz, where he pos­sibly met with his Trayterous As­sociators: They send in, and cun­ningly inquire who he waited for, or who was with him, and they under­stood he stay'd for some Gentlemen of the French Nation, for he had ordered Silvia to come in mans Cloaths, that she might not be [Page 18] known; and had given Order below, that if two French Gentlemen came they should be brought to him. This Information made the Scandal as clear as Day, and the Messenger no longer doubted of the Reasonable­ness of his Warrant, tho' he was loath to serve it on a Person whose Father he had serv'd many Years. He waits at some distance from the House unseen, tho' he could take a View of all; he saw Octavio come often out into the Balcony and look with longing Eyes towards the Road that leads to the Town; he saw him all rich and gay as a young Bridegroom, lovely and young as the Morning that flattered him with so fair and happy a Day; at last he saw two Gentlemen alight at the Door, and giving their Horses to a Page to walk a while, they ran up into the Chamber where Octavio was waiting, who had already sent his Page to prepare the Priest in the Vil­lage Church to marry them. You [Page 19] may imagine with what Love and Joy the [...]avished Youth approach'd the Idol of his Soul, and she who beholds him in more Beauty than e­ver yet she thought he had appear'd, pleas'd with all things he had on, with the gay Morning, the flowry Field, the Air, the little Journey, and a thousand diverting things, made no Resistance to those fond Imbra­ces that prest her a thousand times with silent Transport, and falling Tears of eager Love and Pleasure, but even in that moment of Con­tent she forgot Philander, and re­ceiv'd all the Satisfaction so soft a Lover could dispence: While they were mutually thus exchanging Looks, and almost Hearts, the Mes­senger came into the Room, and as civilly as possible told Octavio he had a Warrant for him to secure him as a Traytor to the State, and a Spy for France. You need not be told the Surprize and Astonish­ment he was in; however he obey'd: [Page 20] The Messenger turning to Silvia, cry'd Sr. Tho' I can hardly credit this Crime that is charged to my Lord, yet the finding him here with two French Gentlemen gives me some more Fears that there may be some­thing in it; and it would do well, if you would deliver your selves into my Hands for the farther clearing this Gentleman. The foolish grave Speech of the Messenger had like to have put Octavio into a loud Laughter, he addressing himself to two Women, for two Men: But Silvia reply'd, Sir, I hope you do not take us for so little Friends to the gallant Octavio, to abandon him in his Misfortune; no, we will share it with him, be it what it will. To this the generous Lover, blushing with kind Surprize, bow'd, and kissing her Hand with Transport, calling her his charming Friend; and so all three being guard­ed back in Octavio's Coach, they return to the Town, and to the House of the Messenger, which [Page 21] made a great Noise all over, that Octavio was taken with two French Jesuits plotting to fire Amsterdam, and a thousand things equally Ridi­culous. They were all three lodg'd together in one House, that of the Messenger, which was very fine, and fit to entertain any Persons of Qua­lity; while Brilljard, who did not like that part of the Project, be­thought him of a thousand ways how to free her from thence; for he design'd as soon as Octavio should be taken to have got her to have quit­ted the Town under pretence of be­ing taken upon Suspicion of holding Correspondence with him, because they were French; but her delive­ring herself up, had not only un­done all his Design, but had made it unsafe for him to stay. While he was thus bethinking himself what he should do, Octavio's Uncle, who was one of the States, extreamly af­fronted at the Indignity put upon his Nephew and his sole Heir, the Dar­ling [Page 22] of his Heart and Eyes, com­mands that this Informer may be secur'd; and accordingly-Brilljard was taken into Custody, who giving himself over for a lost Man, resolves to put himself upon Octavio's Mer­cy, by telling him the Motives that induc'd him to this violent and un­generous Course. It was some days before the Council thought fit to call for Octavio, to hear what he had to say for himself in the mean time, he having not had Permission yet to see Silvia; and being extreamly de­sirous of that Happiness, he be­thought himself that the Messenger having been in his Fathers Service, might have so much Re [...]t for the Son as to allow him to speak to that fair Charmer, provided he might be a Witness to what he should say: He sends for him, and demanded of him where those two fair Prisoners were lodg'd who came with him in the Morning; he told him, in a very good Apartment on the same Floor, [Page 23] and that they were very well Accom­modated, and seem'd to have no other Trouble but what they suffered for him. I hope my Lord, added he —your Confinement will not be long, for I hear there is a Person taken up, who has confest he did it for a Revenge on you. At this Octavio was very well pleased, and asked him who it was; and he told him a French Gentleman belonging to the Count Philander, who about six Months ago was obliged to quit the Town as an Enemy to France. He soon knew it to be Brilljard, and comparing this Action with some others of his lately Committed, he no longer doubts it the Effects of his Jealousie. He ask'd the Messen­ger if it were impossible to gain so much Favour of him, as to let him visit those two French Gentlemen, he being by while he was with them: The Keeper soon granted his Re­quest, and reply'd—There was no Hazzard, he would not run to serve [Page 24] him; and immediately, putting back the Hangings, with one of those Keys he had in his Hand, he opened a Door in his Chamber that led into a Gallery of fine Pictures, and from thence they past into the Apartment of Silvia: As soon as he came in he threw himself at her Feet, and she received him, and took him up in­to her Arms with all the Transports of Joy a Soul (more than ever pos­sest with Love for him) could conceive; and tho' they all appear'd of the Masculine Sex, the Messen­ger soon perceiv'd his Error, and beg'd a thousand Pardons. Octavio makes hast to tell her his Opinion of the cause of all this Trouble to both; and she easily believ'd, when she heard Brilljard was taken, that it was as he imagin'd, for he had been found too often faulty not to be suspected now: This Thought brought a great Calm to both their Spirits, and almost reduc'd them to their first soft Tranquillity, with [Page 25] which they began the day: For he protested his Innocence a thousand times, which was wholly needless, for the generous Maid believed be­fore he spoke, he could not be guil­ty of the Sin of Treachery. He re­news his Vows to her of eternal Love, and that he would perform what they were so unluckily pre­vented of doing this Morning, and that tho' possibly by this unhappy Adventure his Design might have taken Air, and have arrived to the Knowledge of his Uncle, yet in spite of all Opposition of Friends, or the Malice of Brilljard, he would pur­sue his Glorious Design of marry­ing her, tho' he were forc'd for it to wander to the farthest parts of the Earth with his lovely Prize. He begs she will not disesteem him for this Scandal on his Fame, for he was all Love, all soft Desire, and had no other Design than that of making himself Master of that great­est Treasure in the World; that of [Page 26] the possessing the most charming, the all ravishing Silvia: In return, she paid him all the Vows that could secure an In [...]idel in Love, she made him all the indearing Ad­vances a Heart could wish, wholly given up to tender Passion, inso­much that he believes, and is the gayest Man that ever was blest by Love. And the Messenger who was present all this while, found that this Caballing with the French Spies, was only an innocent Design to give himself away to a fine young La­dy: And therefore fully convinc'd he, was guilty of no other Crime, he gave them all the Freedom they desired; and which they made use of to the most Advantage Love could direct or Youth inspire. This Suf­fering with Octavio begot a Pity and Compassion in the Heart of Sil­via, and that grew up to Love, for he had all the Charms that could inspire it; and every Hour was ad­ding new Fire to her Heart, which [Page 27] at last burnt into a Flame, such Power has mighty Obligation on a Heart that has any grateful Senti­ments: And yet when she was ab­sent anights from Octavio, and thought on Philander's Passion for Calista, she would Rage and Rave, and find the Effects of wondrous Love, and wondrous Pride, and be even ready to make Vows against Octavio: But those were Fits that seldomer seiz'd her now, and eve­ry Fit was like a departing Ague, still weaker than the former, and at the sight of Octavio all would vanish, her Blushes would rise and discover the soft Thoughts her Heart conceived for the approaching Lo­ver; and she soon found that vul­gar Error of the Impossibility of Loving more than once. It was four days they thus remained with­out being call'd to the Councel, and every day brought its new Joys a­long with it: They were never a­sunder, never interrupted with any [Page 28] Visit, but once for a few Moments in a day by Octavio's Uncle, and then he would go into his own Apartment to receive him: He of­fered to baile him out; but Octa­vio, who had found more real Joy there than in any part of the Earth besides, eva [...]d the Obligation, by telling his Uncle he would be oblig'd to nothing but his Innocence for his Liberty: So would get rid of the fond old Gentleman, who ne­ver knew a Passion but for his dar­ling Nephew, and return with as much Joy to the Lodgings of Sil­via as if he had been absent a Week, which is an Age to a Lover; there they sometimes would play at Cards, where he would lose considerable Summs to her, or at Hazard, or be studying what they should do next to pass the Hours most to her Content; not but he had rather have lain eternally at her Feet, gazing, doating, and saying a thousand fond things, which at every View he [Page 29] took were conceived in his Soul: And tho' but this last Minute he had finish'd saying all that Love could Dictate, he found his Heart oppress'd with a vast store of new Softness, which he languish'd to un­load in her ravishing Bosom: But she, who was not arrived to his pitch of Loving, diverts his softer Hours with Play sometimes, and o­therwhile with making him fol­low her into the Gallery, which was adorn'd with pleasant Pictures, all of Hempskerk's hand, which afford­ed great Variety of Objects very Drole and Antique, Octavio finding something to say of every one that might be of Advantage to his own Heart; for whatever Argument was in dispute, he would be sure to bring it home to the Passion he had for Silvia; it should end in Love however remotely begun: So strange an Art has Love to turn all things to the Advantage of a Lo­ver.

[Page 30]'Twas thus they pass'd their time, and nothing was wanting that lavish Expence could procure, and every Minute he advances to new Free­doms, and unspeakable Delights, but still such as might hitherto be allow'd with Honour; he sighs, and wishes, he languishes and dies for more, but dares not utter the Meaning of one Motion of Breath, for he lov'd so very much that every Look from those fair Eyes that charm'd him, aw'd him to a Respect that rob'd him of many happy Moments a bolder Lover would have turn'd to his Advantage, and he treated her as if she had been an unspotted Maid; with Caution of Offending, he had forgot that general Rule, That where the sacred Laws of Honour are once invaded, Love makes the easier Conquest.

All this while you may imagine Brilljard indured no little Torment, he could not on the one side de­termine what the States would do [Page 31] with him, when once they should find him a false. Accuser of so great a Man, and on the other side he suf­fered a thousand Pains and Jealousies from Love; he knew too well the Charms and Power of Octavio, and what Effects Importunity and Op­portunity have on the Temper of feeble Woman: He found the States did not make so considerable a matter of his being Impeach'd as to confine him strictly, and he dies with the Fears of those happy Moments he might possibly enjoy with Sil­via, where there might be no Spies about her to give him any kind In­telligence; and all that could afford him any glimps of Consolation, was, That while they were thus confin'd he was out of Fear of their being married. Octavio's Uncle this while was not Idle, but taking it for a high Indignity his Nephew should remain so long without being heard, he mov'd it to the Councel, and accordingly they sent for him to the [Page 32] State-House the next Morning, where Brilljard was brought to confront him; whom, as soon as Octavio saw, with a scornful Smile, he cry'd— 'Tis well, Brilljard, that you who durst not fight me fairly, should find out this nobler way of ridding your self of a Rival; I am glad at least, that I have no more honourable a Witness against me. Brilljard, who never before wanted Assurance, at this Re­proach was wholly Confounded; for it was not from any Villainy in his Nature, but the absolute Effects of mad and desperate Passion, which put him on the only Remedy that could relieve him; and looking on Octavio with modest Blushes, that half pleaded for him, he cry'd— Yes my Lord, I am your Accuser, and come to charge your Innocence with the greatest of Crimes, and you ought to thank me for my Accusation; when you shall know 'tis regard to my own Honour, violent Love for Silvia, and extream Respect to your Lordship, [Page 33] has made me thus sawcy with your un­spotted Fame. How, reply'd Octa­vio, shall I thank you for accusing me with a Plot upon the State? Yes my Lord, reply'd Brilljard; and yet you had a Plot to betray the State, and by so new a way, as could be found out by none but so great and brave a Man.—Heavens, reply'd Octa­vio inrag'd, this is an Impudence, that nothing but a Traytor to his own King, and one bred up in Plots and Mischiefs, could have invented; I betray my own Country?—Yes my Lord, cry'd he (more briskly than before, seeing Octavio colour so at him) to all the Loosness of unthinking Youth, to all the Breach of Laws both Hu­man and Divine, if all the Youth should follow your Example, you would betray Posterity it self; and only mad Confusion would abound: In short, my Lord, that Lady who was taken with you by the Messenger, was my Wife: And going to wards Silvia, who was struck as with a Thunderbolt, he [Page 34] seiz'd her Hand, and Cry'd,— while all stood gazing on—This Lady Sir I mean—she is my Wife, my lawful married Wife. At this Silvia could no longer hold her Pa­tience within its Bounds, but with that other Hand he had left her, she struck him a Box on the Ear, that almost stagger'd him, coming unawares, and as she struck she cry'd aloud, Thou liest base Villain— and I'll be reveng'd; and flinging her­self out of his Hand, she got on the other side of Octavio, while the whole Company remained confoun­ded at what they saw and heard. How, cry'd out old Sebastian, Uncle to Octavio, a Woman, this? By my Troth, sweet Lady, if you be one, methought you were a very pretty Fel­low: And turning to Brilljard, he cry'd—Why, what Sir, then it seems all this Noise of betraying the State was but a Cuckold's Dream. Hah! and this wonderful and dangerous Plot, was but one upon your Wife Sir; hah [Page 35] —was it so? Marry Sir, at this rate, I rather think 'tis you have a De­sign of betraying the State—you cuckoldly Knaves that bring your handsome Wives to seduce our young Senators from their Sobriety and Wits. Are these the Recompences, reply'd Brilljard, you give the Inju­red, and in lieu of restoring me my Right, am I reproach'd with the most scandalous Infamy that can befal a Man. Well Sir, reply'd Sebastian, this is all you have to charge this Gen­tleman with? At which he bow'd and was silent—and Sebastian con­tinu'd— If your Wife, Sir, have a mind to my Nephew, or he to her, it should have been your Care to have forbid it, or prevented it, by keeping her under Lock and Key, if no other way to be secured; and Sir, we do not sit here to relieve Fools and Cuckolds; if your Lady will be Civil to my Ne­phew, what's that to us: Let her speak for herself; What say you Ma­dam?— I say, reply'd Silvia, that [Page 36] this Fellow is mad and raves; that he is my Vassal, my Servant, my Slave; but, after this, unworthy of the meanest of these Titles. This she spoke with a Disdain that suffici­ently show'd the Pride and Anger of her Soul—La you Sir, reply'd Sebastian, you are discharg'd your La­dys Service; 'tis a plain case she has more mind to the young Count than the Husband, and we cannot compel People to be honest against their In­clinations. And coming down from the Seat where he sate, he imbra­ced Octavio a hundred times, and told the Board, he was extreamly glad they found the mighty Plot but a Vagary of Youth, and the Spleen of a Jealous Husband or Lo­ver, or whatsoever other malicious thing; and desired the angry Man might be discharged since he had so just a Provocation as the loss of a Mistriss. So all laughing at the Jest, that had made so great a Noise a­mong the Grave and Wise, they [Page 37] freed 'em all: And Sebastian advi­sed his Nephew, that the next Cuckold he made, he would make a Friend of him first, that he might hear of no more Complaints against him. But Octavio very gravely re­ply'd: Sir, you have infinitely mi­staken the Character of this Lady, she is a Person of too great Quality for this Raillery; at more Leisure you shall have her Story. While he was speaking this, and their Dis­charges were making, Silvia con­founded with Shame, Indignation, and Anger, goes out, and taking Octavio's Coach that stood at the Gate, went directly to his House, for she resolved to go no more where Brilljard was. After this Se­bastian fell seriously to good Advice, and earnestly besought his Darling to leave off those wild Extravagan­cies that had so long made so great a Discourse all the Province over, where nothing but his splendid A­mours, Treats, Balls, and Magni­ficences [Page 38] of Love, was the Business of the Town, and that he had for­born to tell him of it, and had hitherto justified his Actions, tho they had not deserved it; and he doubted this was the Lady to whom for this six or eight Months he heard he had so intirely dedicated himself: He desires him to quit this Lady, or if he will pursue his Love, to do it discreetly, to love some un­married Woman, and not injure his Neighbours; to all which he blush­ed and bowed, and silently seem'd to thank him for his grave Coun­cel. And Brilljard having received his Discharge, and Advice how he provoked the Displeasure of the States any more, by accusing of great Persons, he was ordered to ask Octa­vio's Pardon, but in lieu of that, he came up to him and challenged him to fight him for the Injustice he had done him, in taking from him his Wife; for he was sure he was undone in her Favour, and [Page 39] that Thought made him mad e­nough to put himself on this se­cond Extravagancy: However this was not so silently managed but Sebastian perceived it, and was so inraged at the young Fellow for this second Insolence, that he was again confined, and sent back to Pri­son, where he swore he should suf­fer the utmost of the Law: And the Council breaking up, every one departed to his own Home. But ne­ver was Man Ravished with excess of Joy as Octavio was, to find Sil­via meet him with extended Arms on the Stare-Case, whom he did not imagine to have found there, nor knew he how he stood in the Heart of that Charmer of his own, since the Affront she had received in the Court from those that however did not know her, for they did not ima­gine this was that Lady, Sister to Philander, of whose Beauty they had heard so much, and her Face being turn'd from the Light, the old [Page 40] Gentlemen did not so much consider or see it. Silvia came into his House the back way, through the Stables and Garden, and had the good For­tune to be seen of none of his Family, but the Coach-man who brought her home, whom she conjur'd not to speak of it to the rest of his Ser­vants; and unseen of any body she got into his Apartment, for often she had been there at Treats and Balls with Philander. She was all alone, for Antonett stay'd to see what became of her false Lover, who, after he was seized again, re­tired to her Lodging the most dis­consolate Woman in the World, for having lost her Hopes of Brilljard, to whom she had ingaged all that Honour she had. But when she missed her Lady there, she accused herself with all the Falshood in the World, and fell to repent her Trea­chery. She sends the Page to in­quire at Octavio's House, but no body there could give him any In­telligence; [Page 41] so that the poor amo­rous Youth returning without Hope, indur'd all the Pain of a hopless Lo­ver, for Octavio had anew charm'd his Coach-man: And calling up an ancient Woman who was his House­keeper, who had been his Nurse, he acquainted her with the short Histo­ry of his Passion for Silvia, and or­der'd her to give her attendance on the treasure of his Life; he bid her prepare all things as magnificent as she could in that Apartment he de­sign'd her, which was very rich and gay, and towards a fine Garden: The Hangings and Beds all glorious, and fitter for a Monarch than a Sub­ject; the finest Pictures the World afforded, Flowers in-laid with Sil­ver, and Ivory, guilded Roofs, car­ved Wainscot, Tables of Plate, with all the rest of the moveables in the Chambers of the same, all of great value, and all was perfumed like an Altar, or the Marriage-Bed of some young King. Here Silvia was de­sign'd [Page 42] to lodge, and hither Octavio conducted her; and setting her on a Couch while the Supper was get­ting ready, he sits himself down by her, and his heart being ready to burst with Grief, at the thought of the Claim which was laid to her by Brilljard; he silently views her, while Tears were ready to break from his fix'd Eyes, and Sighs stopt what he would fain have spoke: While she (wholly confounded with Shame, Guilt, and Disappointment (for she could not imagine that Brilljard could have had the Impudence to have claim'd her for a Wife) fix'd her fair. Eyes to Earth, and durst not behold the languishing Octavio. They remain'd thus a long time si­lent, she not daring to defend her­self from a Crime, of which she knew too well she was guilty, nor he daring to ask her a Question to which the Answer might prove so fatal; he fears to know what he dies to be satisfied in, and she fears [Page 43] to discover too late a Secret which was the only one she had conceal'd from him. Octavio runs over in his Mind a thousand Thoughts that perplex'd him, of the Probability of her being married; he considers how often he had found her with that happy young Man, who more freely entertain'd her than Servants use to do: He now considers how he has seen 'em once on a Bed to­gether, when Silvia was in the Dis­order of a yielding Mistress, and Brilljard of a ravish'd Lover; he considers how he has found 'em a­lone at Cards and Dice, and often entertaining her with Freedoms of a Husband, and how he wholly ma­naged her Affairs, commanded her Servants like their proper Master, and was in full Authority of all. These and a thousand more Circum­stances confirms Octavio in all his Fears: A thousand times she is about to speak, but either fears to lose Octavio by a clear Confession, or to [Page 44] run herself into farther Error by de­nying the matter of Fact, stops her Words, and she only blushes and sighs at what she dares not tell, and if by chance their speaking Eyes meet, they would both decline 'em hastily again, as afraid to find there what their Language could not con­fess. Sometimes he would press her Hand and sigh—Ah Silvia, you have undone my Quiet; to which she would return no Answer but Sigh; and now rising from the Couch she walk'd about the Chamber as sad and silent as Death, attending when he should have advanced in speaking to her, tho' she dreads the Voice she wishes to hear, and he waits for her Reply, tho' the Mouth that he adores should deliver Poy­son and Daggers to his Heart. While thus they remained in the most si­lent and sad Entertainment (that ever was between Lovers that had so much to say) the Page, which Octavio only trusts to wait, brought him this Letter.

At the beginning of this Letter Octavio hoped it contained the Con­fession of his Fault in claiming Sil­via; he hop'd he would have own'd it done in order to his Service to his Lord, or his Love to Silvia, or a­ny thing but what it really was; but when he read on—and found that he yet confirm'd his Claim, he [Page 48] yeilded to all the Grief that could sink a Heart over-burthen'd with violent Love; he fell down on the Couch were he was sate, and only calling Silvia with a dying Groan, he held out his Hand in which the Letter remain'd, and look'd on her with Eyes that languished with Death, Love, and Dispair; while she who already feared from whom it came, received it with Disdain, Shame, and Confusion: And Octa­vio recovering a little—Cry'd in a faint Voice—See Charming, Cru­el, Fair—see how much my Soul adores you, when even this—can­not extinguish one spark of that Flame you have kindled in my Soul: At this she blush'd and bow'd with a grace­ful modesty that was like to have given the lie to all the Accusations against her: She reads the Letter, while he greedily fixes his Eyes up­on her Face as she read, observing with curious Search every Motion there, all killing and adorable. He [Page 49] saw her Blushes sometimes rise, then sink again to their proper Fountain, her Heart; there swell and rise, and beat against her Breast that had no other Covering than a thin Shirt, for all her Bosom was open, and be­tray'd the nimble Motions of her Heart. Her Eyes sometimes would sparkle with Disdain, and glow up­on the fatal tell-tale Lines; and sometimes languish with excess of Grief: But having concluded the Letter, she laid it on the Table and began again to traverse the Room, her Head declined, and her Arms across her Bosom. Octavio made too true an Interpretation of this Silence, and Calm in Silvia, and no longer doubted his Fate. He fixes his Eyes eternally upon her, while she con­siders what she shall say to that af­flicted Lover; she find's Philander lost, or if he ever return, 'tis not to Love, so that he was for ever gone▪ for too well she knew no Arts, Obligations, or Industry, could re­trieve [Page 50] a flying a Cupid: She found if even that, could return, his whole Fortune was so exausted he could not support her; and that she was of a Nature so haughty and impa­tient of Injuries, that she could ne­ver forgive him those Affronts he had done her Honour first, and now her Love; she resolves no Law or Force shall submit her to Brilljard; she finds this Fallacy she has put on Octavio, has ruined her Credit in his Esteem, at least she justly fears it; so that believing herself aban­doned by all in a strange Country, she fell to weeping her Fate, and the Tears wet the Floor as she walk'd: At which Sight so melting, Octavio starts from the Couch, and catching her in his trembling Arms, he cry'd, be false, be cruel, and de­ceitful; yet still I must, I am com­pell'd to Adore you—This being spoken in so hearty and resolved a Tone, from a Man, of whose Heart she was so sure, and knew to be so [Page 51] generous, gave her a little Courage —and like sinking Men she catch­es at all that presents her any Hope of escaping. She resolves by disco­vering the whole Truth to save that [...]ast Stake, his Heart, tho' she could pretend to no more; and taking the [...]ainting Lover by the Hand, she leads him to the Couch: Well, said she, Octavio, you are too generous to be impos'd on in any thing; and there­fore I will tell you my Heart with­out Reserve as absolutely as to Hea­ven it self, if I were interceeding my last Peace there. She begg'd a thou­sand Pardons of him for having con­ceal'd any part of her Story from him, but she could no longer be guil­ty of that Crime, to a Man for whom she had so perfect a Passion; and as she spoke she imbraced him with an unresistable Softness that wholly charm'd him: She reconciles him with every Touch, and sighs on his Bosom a thousand grateful Vows and Excuses for her Fault, [Page 52] while he weeps with Love, and al­most Expires in her Arms; she is not able to see his Passion and his Grief, and tells him she will do all things for his Repose. Ah Silvia, sigh'd he, talk not of my Repose, when you confess your self Wife to one, and Mistress to another, in either of which I have alass no part: Ah, what is re­serv'd for the Vnfortunate Octavio, when two happy Lovers divide the Treasure of his Soul! Yet tell me Truth, because it will look like Love; shew me that excellent Vertue, so rare­ly found in all your fickle Sex. Oh! tell me Truth, and let me know how much my Heart can bear before it break with Love; and yet perhaps to hear thee speak to me, with that in­sinuating dear Voice of thine, may save me from the Terror of thy Words; and tho' each make a Wound, their very Accents have a Balm to heal! Oh, quickly pour it then into my list­ening Soul, and I'll be silent, as o'er ravished Lovers, whom Ioys have [Page 53] charm'd to tender Sighs and Pant­ings. At this, imbracing her anew, he let fall a Shower of Tears upon her Bosom, and sighing Cry'd— Now I attend thy Story: She then began anew the Repetition of the Loves between herself and Philan­der; which she slightly ran over, because he had already heard every Circumstance of it, both from her­self and Philander; till she arriv'd to that part of it where she left Belsont, her Fathers House: Thus far, said she, you have had a faithful Relati­on And I was no sooner miss'd by▪ my Parent, but you may imagine the diligent Search that would be made, both by Foscario, whom I was to have married the next day, and my tender Parents; but all Search, all Hu-an-Crys were vain; at last they put me into the weekly Gazette, describing me to the very Features of my Face, my Hair, my Breast, my Stature, Youth and Beauty, omitting nothing that might render me apparent to all that [Page 54] should see me, offering vast Sums to any that should give Intelligence of such a lost Maid of Quality. Phi­lander, who understood too well the Nature of the common People, and that they would betray their very Fa­thers for such a proferr'd Sum, durst trust me no longer to their Mercy: His Affairs were so involved with those of Caesario, he could not leave Paris; for they every Moment expected the People should rise against their King, and these Glorious Chiefs of the Faction were obliged to wait and watch the Motions of the dirty Croud. Nor durst he trust me in any place from him, for he could not live a Day without me. At that Thought she sigh'd, and then went on: so that I was oblig'd to remain obscurely lodg­ed in Paris, where now I durst no lon­ger trust myself, tho' disguis'd in as many Shapes as I was obliged to have Lodgings. At last we were betray'd, and had only the short Notice given us to yield or secure our selves from [Page 55] the hand of Iustice by the next Mor­ning, when they design'd to surprize us: To escape we found almost impossible, and very hazardous to attempt it; so that Philander, who was raving with his Fear, call'd myself and this young Gentleman, Brilljard, (then Master of his Horse) and one that had serv'd us faithfully through the whole Course of our Loves) to Councel: Many things were in vain debated, but at last this hard Shift was found out, of marrying me to Brilljard, for to Philander it was impossible; so that no Authority of a Father could take me from the Husband. I was at first extreamly unwilling, but when Philan­der told me it was to be only a mock-Marriage, to secure me to himself, I was reconcil'd to it, and more, when I found the in [...]inite Submission of the young Man, who vow'd he would ne­ver look up to me with the Eyes of a Lover or Husband, but in Obedi­ence to his Lord did it to preserve me intirely for him: Nay further, to se­cure [Page 56] my future Fear, he confest to me he was already privately married to a Gentlewoman, by whom he had two Children. Oh—tell me true my Sil­via, Was he married to another? Cry'd out the over-joy'd Lover. Yes, on my Life, reply'd Silvia; for when it was proved in Court that I was married to Brilljard, (as at last I was, and innocently Beded) this Lady came and brought her Children to me, and falling at my Feet, wept and implor'd I would not own her Husband, for on­ly she had right to him; we all were fo [...]ced to discover to her the truth of the Matter, and that he had only mar­ried me to secure me from the Rage of my Parents; that if he were her Husband, she was still as intirely pos­sest of him as ever, and that he had advanc'd her Fortune in what he had done, for she should have him re­stored with those Advantages that should make her Life, and that of her Children more Comfortable; and Phi­lander making both her and the chil­dren [Page 57] considerable Presents, sent her a­way very well satisfied. After this, before People, we used him to a thou­sand Freedoms, but when alone, he re­tain'd his Respect intire; however this us'd him to something more Familiarity than formerly, and he gr [...]w to be more a Companion than a Servant, as indeed we desired he should; and of late have found him more pre­sumptious than usual: And thus much more I must confess, I have reason to believe him a most passionate Lover, and have lately found he had Designs up­on me, as you well know.

Iudge now, oh dear Octavio, how unfortunate I am; yet judge too, whe­ther I ought to esteem this a Marriage, or him a Husband: No, reply'd Octa­vio, more briskly than before, nor can he by the Laws of God or Man, pretend to such a Blessing, and you may be divorc'd. Pleas'd with this Thought, he soon assum'd his native Tem­per of Joy and Softness, and making a thousand new Vows that he would [Page 58] perform all he had sworn on his part; and imploring and pressing her to renew those she had made to him, she obeys him; she makes a thousand grateful Returns, and they pass the Evening the most hap­pily that ever Lovers did. By this time Supper was served up, noble and handsome; and after Supper he led her to his Closet, where he pre­sented her with Jewels and other Rareties of great Value, and omit­ted nothing that might oblige an Avaritious designing Woman, if Sil­via had been such; nor any thing that might beget Love and Grati­tude in the most insensible Heart: And all he did and all he gave was with a peculiar Grace, in which there lies as great an Obligation, as in the Gift it self: The handsom way of giving being an Art so rarely known, even to the most Generous. In these happy and glorious Moments of Love, wherein the Lover omitted nothing that could please, Philan­der [Page 59] was almost forgotten, for 'tis na­tural for Love to beget Love, and Inconstancy its Likeness, or Disdain: And we must conclude Silvia a Maid wholly insensible, if she had not been touch'd with Tenderness, and even Love it self, at all these extravagant marks of Passion in Octavio; and it must be confess'd, she was of a Nature soft and apt for Impression; she was, in a word, a Woman. She had her Vanities, and her little Fevibleses, and lov'd to see Adorers at her Feet, especially those in whom all things, all Graces, Charms of Youth, Wit and For­tune agreed to form for Love and Conquest: She naturally lov'd Pow­er and Dominion; and it was her Maxim, That never any Woman was displeased to find she could be­get Desire.

'Twas thus they liv'd with unin­terrupted Joys, no Spies to pry upon their Actions, no false Friends to censure their real Pleasures, no Ri­vals [Page 60] to poyson their true Content, no Parents to give Bounds or grave Rules to the distruction of nobler lavish Love; but all the Day was past in new Delights, and every Day produc'd a thousand Pleasures; and even the Thoughts of Revenge were no more remembred on ei­ther side; it lessen'd in Silvia's Heart, as Love advanced there, and her Resentment against Philander was lost in her growing Passion for Octavio: And sure if any Woman had Excuses for Loving and Incon­stancy, the most Wise and Prudent must allow 'em now to Silvia; and if she had Reason for Loving, 'twas now, for what she paid the most deserving of his Sex, and whom she managed with that Art of Loving (if there be Art in Love) that she gain'd every Minute upon his Heart, and he became more and more her Slave, the more he found he was be­lov'd: In spight of all Brilljard's Pretention he would have married [Page 61] her, but durst not do it while he remain'd in Holland, because of the Noise Brilljard's Claim had made; and he fear'd the Displeasure of his Uncle, but waited for a more hap­py time, when he could settle his Affairs so as to remove her into Flanders, tho' he could not tell how to accomplish that without ruining his Interest: These Thoughts alone took up his time whenever he was absent from Silvia, and would often give him abundance of Trouble, for he was given over to his Wish of possessing Silvia, and could not live without her; he lov'd too much, and thought and consider'd too lit­tle. These were his eternal Enter­tainments, when from the lovely Object of his Desire, which was as seldom as possible, for they were both unwilling to part; tho' Decen­cy and Rest required it, a thousand soft things would hinder him, and make her willing to retain him; and tho' they were to meet again [Page 62] next Morning, they grudge them­selves the parting Hours, and the Repose of Nature. He longs and languishes for the blessed Moment that shall give him to the Arms of the ravishing Silvia, and she finds but too much yielding on her part, in some of those silent lone Hours, when Love was most prevailing, and feeble Mortals most apt to be overcome by that insinuating God; so that tho' Octavio could not ask what he sigh'd and dy'd for; tho' he resolv'd he would not press her, tho' for the Safety of his Life, for any Favours; and tho', on the other side, Silvia resolv'd she would not grant, no, tho' mutual Vows had passed, tho' Love within pleaded, and almost unresistible Beauties and Inducements without, tho' all the Powers of Love, of Silence, Night, and Opportunity, tho' on the very Point a thousand times of yielding, she had resisted all: But oh! one Night; let it not rise up in Judg­ment [Page 63] against her, you bashful mo­dest Maids, who never yet try'd a­ny powerful Minute; nor you chast Wives, who give no Opportunities: One night—they lost themselves in Dalliance, forgot how very near they were to yielding, and with imperfect Transports found them­selves half dead with Love, clasp'd in each others Arms, betray'd by soft Degrees of Joy, to all they wish­ed. ' [...] would be too Amorous to tell you more; to tell you all that Night, that happy Night produc'd; let it suffice that Silvia yielded all, and made Octavio happier than a God. At first he found her wee­ping in his Arms, raving on what she had unconsideringly done; and with her soft Reproaches chiding her ravished Lover, who lay sighing by, unable to reply any other way, he held her fast in those Arms that trembled, yet with Love and new-past Joy; he found a Pleasure e­ven in her Railing, with a Ten­derness [Page 64] that spoke more Love than any other Language Love could speak. Betwixt his Sighs he pleads his Right of Love, and the Authority of his solemn Vows; he tells her that the Marriage Ceremony was but contrived to satisfy the Igno­rant, and to proclaim his Title to the Crowd, but Vows and Con­tracts were the same to Heaven: He speaks—and she believes; and well she might, for all he spoke was honourable Truth. He knew no Guile, but uttered all his Soul, and all that Soul was Honest, Just, and Brave; thus by degrees he brought her to a Calm.

In this soft Rancounter he had discovered a thousand new Charms in Silvia; and contrary to those Men, whose end of Love is Lust (which extinguish together) Octa­vio found increase of Tenderness from every Bliss she gave; and grew at last so fond—so doating on the still more charming Maid, that he [Page 65] neglected all his Interest, his Busi­ness in the State, and what he ow'd his Uncle, and his Friends, and be­came the common Theam over all the United Provinces, for his Wan­tonness and Luxury, as they were pleased to call it; and living so con­trary to the Humour of those more sordid and slovenly Men of Quality, which make up the Nobility of that parcel of the World. For while thus he lived retired, scarce visiting any one, or permitting any to visit him, they charge him with a thou­sand Crimes of having given him­self over to Effeminacy; as indeed he grew too Lazy in her Arms; neglecting Glory, Arms, and Pow­er, for the more real Joys of Life; while she even Rifles him with Ex­travagancy; and grows so bold and hardy, that regarding not the Hu­mours of the stingy censorious Na­tion, his Interest, or her own Fame, she is seen every day in his Coaches going to take the Air out of Town; [Page 66] puts him upon Balls, and vast ex­pensive Treats; devises new Projects and ways of Diversion, till some of the more busie Impertinents of the Town made a publick Complaint to his Uncle, and the rest of the States, urging he was a Scandal to the Reverend and Honourable So­ciety. On which it was decreed that he should either lose that Ho­nour, or take up, and live more ac­cording to the Gravity and Autho­rity of a Senator: This Incenses Se­bastian, both against the States and his Nephew; for tho' he had often reproved and counselled him, yet he scorn'd his Darling should be school'd by his Equals in Power. So that re­solving either to discard him, or draw him from the Love of this Woman; he one Morning goes to his Nephews House, and sending him up word by his Page he would speak to him, he was conducted to his Chamber, where he found him in his Night-Gown: He began to [Page 67] upbraid him, first with his want of Respect and Duty to him, and next, of his Affairs, neglecting to give his Attendance on the Publick: He tells him he is become a Scandal to the Common-Wealth, and that he liv'd a lude Life with another Man's Wife: He tells him he has all her Story, and she was not only a Wife, but a scandalous Mistress too to Phi­lander. She boasts, says he, of Ho­nourable Birth, but what's that, when her Conduct is Infamous? In short, Sir, continued he, your Life is obnoxious to the whole Province: Why, what Sir—cannot honest Men's Daughters (cry'd he, more angerly) serve your turn, but you must crack a Commandment? Why, this is flat Adultery: A little Fornica­tion in a civil way, might have been allow'd, but this is stark naught. In fine Sir, quit me this Woman, and quit her me presently; or, in the first place, I renounce thee, cast thee from me as a Stranger, and will leave thee [Page 68] to Ruine, and the incensed States. A little Pleasure—a little Recreation, I can allow: A Layer of Love, and a Layer of Business—But to neglect the Nation for a Wench, is flat Trea­son against the State; and I wish there were a Law against all such unrea­sonable Whore-Masters—that are States-Men—for the rest 'tis no great matter. Therefore in a Word, Sir, leave me off this Mistress of yours, or we will secure her yet for a French Spy, that comes to debauch our Common-Wealths-Men—The States can do it Sir, they can— Hitherto Octavio received all with Blush and Bow, in sign of Obedi­ence; but when his Uncle told him the States would send away his Mi­striss; no longer able to contain his Rage, he broke out into all the Vi­olence imaginable against them, and swore he would not now forego Sil­via to be Monarch over all the na­sty Provinces, and 'twas a greater Glory to be a Slave at her Feet. [Page 69] Go, tell your States, cry'd he—They are a company of Cynical Fops, born to moyl on in sordid Business, who never were worthy to understand so great a Happiness of Life, as that of nobler Love. Tell 'em, I scorn the dull Gravity of those Asses of the Common-Wealth, fit only to bear the dirty Load of State-Affairs, and die old busie Fools. The Uncle, who little expected such a Return from him who used to be all Obedience, began more gently to perswade him with more solid Reason, but could get no other Answer from him, than that what he commanded he should find it Difficult to disobey; and so for that time they parted. Some days after (he never coming so much as near their Councils) they sent for him, to answer the Contempt: He came and received abundance of hard Reproaches, and finding they were resolved to Degrade him, he pre­sently rallied them in Answer to all they said; nor could all the Cauti­ons [Page 70] of his Friends perswade him to any Submission, after receiving so rough and ill-bred a Treatment as they gave him: And impatient to return to Silvia, where all his Joys were Centered, he was with much a-do perswaded to stay and hear the Resolution of the Council, which was to take from him those Ho­nours he held amongst them; at which he cock'd and smil'd, and told 'em he receiv'd what he was much more proud of than of those useless Trifles they call'd Honours; and wishes they might treat all that served them at that ungrateful Rate: For he that had received a hundred Wounds, and lost a Stream of Blood for their Security, shall, if he kiss their Wives against their Wills, be banish'd like a Coward. So hasting from the Council, he got into his Coach, and went to Silvia. This incensed the old Gentlemen to a high Degree, and they carried it against the younger Party. (because more in [Page 71] Number) That this French Lady, who was for high-Treason, as they call'd it, forc'd to fly France, should be no longer protected in Holland: And in order to her Removal, or rather their Revenge on Octavio, they sent out their Warrant to Ap­prehend her; and either to send her as an Enemy to France, or force her to some other part of the World. For a day or two Sebastian's Inte­rest prevailed for the stoping the Warrant; believing he should be a­ble to bring his Nephew to some Submission, which when he found in vain, he betook himself to his Chamber, and refused any Visits or Diversions: By this time Octavio's ral­lying the States was become the Jest of the Town, and all the Sparks laugh'd at them as they past, and Lampoon'd 'em to damnable Dutch Tunes, which so highly incens'd 'em that they sent immediately and serv'd the Warrant on Silvia, whom they surpriz'd in Octavio's Coach, [Page 72] as she was coming from taking the Air. You may imagine what an Agony of Trouble and Grief our generous and surpriz'd Lover was in: It was in vain to make Re­sistance, and he who before would not have submitted to have sav'd his Life, to the States, now for the Preservation of one moments Con­tent to Silvia, he was ready to go and fall at their Feet, kiss their Shooes, and implore their Pity. He first accompanies her to the House of the Messenger, where he only is permitted to behold her with Eyes of dying Love, and unable to say any thing to her, left her with such Gifts, and Charge, to the Messengers Care, as might oblige him to treat her well; While Silvia, less sur­prized, bid him, at going from her, not to afflict himself for any thing she suffered; she found it was the Malice of the pevish old Magistrates, and that the most they could do to her, was to send her from him: [Page 73] This last she spoke with a Sigh, that pierced his Heart more sensibly than ever any thing yet had done; and he only reply'd (with a Sigh) No Silvia, no rigid Power on Earth shall ever be able to deprive you of my eter­nal Adoration, or to separate me one Moment from Silvia, after she is com­pell'd to leave this ungrateful place, and whose Departure I will hasten all that I can, since the Land is not wor­thy of so great a Blessing. So lea­ving her for a little Space, he hasted to his Uncle, whom he found very much discontented: He throws him­self at his Feet, and assails him with all the moving Eloquence of Sighs and Tears; in vain was all, in vain alas he pleads. From this he flies to Rage—and says all a distracted Lover could power forth to ease a tortured Heart; what Divinity did he not provoke? Wholly regardless even of Heaven and Man, he made a publick Confession of his Passion, deny'd her being married to Brill­jard, [Page 74] and weeps as he protests her Innocence: He kneels again, im­plores and begs anew, and made the movingest Moan that ever touched a Heart, but could receive no other Return but Threats and Frowns: The old Gentleman had never been in Love since he was born, no not enough to marry, but bore and unaccountable Hate to the whole Sex, and therefore was pi­tyless to all he could say on the Score of Love; tho' he endeavours to soften him by a thousand things more dear to him. For my Sake, Sir, said he, if ever my soft Pleawere grateful to you, when all your Ioy was in the young Octavio; re­lease, release, the charming Silvia; re­gard her tender Youth, her blooming Beauty, her timorous helpless Sex, her noble Quality, and save her from the rude Assaults of Power—Oh save the Lovely Maid! This he uttered with interrupting Sighs and Tears, which fell upon the Floor as he pur­su'd [Page 75] the Obdurate on his Knees: At last Pity touch'd his Heart, and he said—Spare, Sir, the Character of your inchanting Circe; for I have heard too much of her, and what Mis­chiefs she has bred in France; a­bandoning her Honour, betraying a vertuous Sister, defaming her Noble Parents, and ruining an Illustrious young Noble Man, who was both her Brother and her Lover. This Sir, in short, is the Character of your Beauteous Innocent. Alas Sir, re­ply'd Octavio, you never saw this Maid! or if you had, you would not be so cruel. Go to, Sir, reply'd the old Gentleman, I am not so soon softened at the sight of Beauty. But do but see her, Sir, reply'd Octavio, and then perhaps you will be charm'd like me—You are a Fop, Sir, re­ply'd Sebastian, and if you would have me allow any Favour to your inchan­ting Lady, you must promise me first to abandon her, and marry the Wi­dow of Monsieur—who is vastly [Page 76] Rich, and whom I have so often re­commended to you, she loves you too; and tho' she be not fair, she has the best Fortune of any Lady in the Ne­therlands. On these Terms, Sir, I am for a Reconciliation with you, and will immediately go and deliver the fair Prisoner, and she shall have her Li­berty to go or stay, or do what she please—and now, Sir, you know my Will and Pleasure—Octavio found it vain to pursue him any further with his Petitions; only reply'd it was wonderous hard and cruel. To which the old one reply'd; 'Tis what must be done, I have resolved it, or my Estate, in value, above two hundred thousand Pounds, shall be dis­posed of to your Sister, the Countess of Clarinau: And this he ended with an Execration on himself if he did not do; and he was a Man that al­ways was just to his Word.

Much more to this ungrateful ef­fect he spoke, and Octavio had Re­course to all the Dissimulation his [Page 77] generous Soul was capable of; and 'twas the first base thing, and sure the last, that ever he was guilty of. He promises his Uncle to obey all his Commands and Injunctions, since he would have it so; and only beg'd he might be permitted but one Visit, to take his last Leave of her: This was at first refused, but at last; provided he might hear what he said to her, he would suffer him to go: For, said the crafty old Man (who knew too well the Cunning of Youth) I will have no Tricks put upon me; I will not be outwitted by a young Knave: This was the worst part of all; he knew, if he alone could speak with her, they might have contriv'd, by handsome agree­ing Flattery, to have accomplish'd their Design, which was; first, by the Authority of the old Gentle­man to have freed her from Con­finement; and next, to have set­led his Affairs in the best Posture he could; and without valuing his [Page 78] Uncle's Fortune, his own being grea­ter, he resolv'd to go with her into Flanders or Italy; but his going with him to visit her would prevent what­ever they might resolve: But since the Liberty of Silvia was first to be considered, he resolves—since it must be so, and leaves the rest to Time and his good Fortune. Well then, Sir, said Octavio, since you have resolv'd your self, to be a Witness of those melancholy things, I shall possibly say to her, let us haste to end the great Affair—Hang it, Cry'd Sebastian, if I go I shall abuse the young Hussie, or commit some Indecency that will not be suitable to good Manners— I hope you will, not Sir—reply'd Octavio—Whip 'em, whip 'em, re­ply'd the Uncle, I hate the young cozening Baggages, that wander about the World undoing young extravagant Coxcombes; gots so, they are naught, stark-naught—Be sure you dispatch as soon as you can, and—do you hear—let's have no Whineing. [Page 79] Octavio overjoy'd he should have her released to Night, promised la­vishly all he was urged to; and his own Coach being at the Gate, they both went immediately to the House of the Messenger; and all the way the old Gentleman did nothing but rail against the Vices of the Age, and the Sins of Villainous Youth; the Snares of Beauty, and the Danger of witty Women; and of how ill Consequences these were to a Com­mon-Wealth. He said, if he were to make Laws, he would confine all young Women to Monasteries, where they should never see Man till Forty, and then come out and marry for Generation sake, no more: For his part he had never seen that Beauty yet that could inspire him with that silly thing call'd Love; and wonder'd what the Devil ail'd all the young Fellows of this Age, that they talk'd of nothing else: At this rate they discoursed till they arrived at the Prison, and calling for [Page 80] the Messenger, he conducted them both to the Chamber of the fair Pri­soner, who was laid on a Couch, near which stood a Table with two Candles, which gave a great Light to that part of the Room, and made Silvia appear more fair than ever, if possible. She had not that day been dress'd but in a rich Night-Gown, and Cornets of the most ad­vantageous Fashion: At his Ap­proach she blush'd (with a secret Joy, which never had possessed her Soul for him before) and spread a thousand Beauties round her fair Face: She was leaping with a transported Pleasure to his Arms, when she per­ceived an old Grave Person follow him into the Room: At which she reassum'd a Strangeness, a melancho­ly Languishment, which charm'd no less than her Gayety. She ap­proaches 'em with a modest Grace in her beautiful Eyes; and by the Reception Octavio gave her, she found that reverend Person was his Un­cle, [Page 81] or at least some body of Authority; and therefore assuming a Gravity unusual, she received 'em with all the Ceremony due to their Quality: And first she address'd herself to the old Gentleman, who stood gazing at her, without Mo­tion; at which she was a little out of Countenance. When Octavio per­ceiving it, approach'd his Uncle, and cry'd, Sir, This is the Lady—Se­bastian starting as from a Dream, cry'd—Pardon me, Madam, I am a Fellow whom Age hath rendered less Ceremonious than Youth: I have ne­ver yet been so happy as to have been used to a fair Lady; Women never took up one Minute of my more perci­ous time, but I have been a Satyr upon the whole Sex: And if my Treatment of you be rougher than your Birth and Beauty Merits, I beseech you—fair Creature, pardon it, since I am come in order to do you Ser­vice. Sir, reply'd Silvia. (blush­ing with Anger at the Presence of [Page 82] a Man who had contributed to the having brought her to that place) I cannot but wonder at this sudden Change of Goodness, in a Person to whom I am indebted for part of my Misfortune, and which I shall no lon­ger esteem as such, since it has occa­sioned me a Happiness, and an Ho­nour, to which I could no other way have arrived. This last she spoke with usual insinuating Charms; the little Affectation of the Voice swee­ten'd to all the Tenderness it was possible to put on, and so easy and natural to Silvia: And if before the old Gentleman were seized with some unusual Pleasure, which be­fore he never felt about his icy and insensible Heart, and which now began to thaw at the Fire of her Eyes—I say, if before he were surprized with looking, what was he when she spoke—with a Voice so soft, and an Air so bewitching? He was all Eyes and Ears, and had use of no other Sense but what inform'd [Page 83] tho [...]e: He gazes upon her, as if he waited and listen'd what she would farther say; and she stood waiting for his Reply, till asham'd, she turn'd her Eyes into her Bo­som, and knew not how to proceed. Octavio views both by turns, and knows not how to begin the Dis­course again, it being his Uncle's Cue to speak: But finding him al­together mute—he steps to him, and gently pull'd him by the Sleeve —but finds no Motion in him; he speaks to him, but in vain, for he could hear nothing but Silvia's charming Voice; nor saw nothing but her lovely Face, nor attended any thing but when she would speak again, and look that way. At this Octavio smil'd, and taking his Ado­rable by the Hand, he led her nea­rer her admiring Adversary; whom she approach'd with Modesty and Sweetness in her Eyes, that the old Fellow having never before beheld the like Vision was wholly van­quish'd, [Page 84] and his old Heart burnt in the Socket, which being his last Blaze made the greater Fire. Fine Lady, cry'd he—or rather fine An­gel, how is it I shall expiate for a Barbarity that nothing could be guilty of but the Brute, who had not learn'd Humanity from your Eyes: What A­tonement can I make for my Sin; and how shall I be punished? Sir, reply'd Silvia, if I can merit your Esteem and Assistance, to deliver me from this cruel Con [...]inement, I shall think of what's past as a Ioy, since it renders me worthy of your Pity and Compassion. To answer you, Ma­dam, were to hold you under this un­worthy Roof too long; therefore let me convince you of my Service, by leading you to a Place more fit for so fair a Person. And calling for the Mes­senger, he ask'd him if he would take his Bail for his fair Prisoner; who reply'd, Your Lordship may Com­mand all things: So throwing him a little Purse, about thirty Pounds in [Page 85] Gold, he bid him drink the Ladies Health; and without more Cere­mony or talk, led her to the Coach; and never so much as asking her whether she would go, insensibly carries her, where he had amind to have her, to his own House: This was a little Affliction to Octavio, who nevertheless durst not say any thing to his Uncle, nor so much as to ask him the Reason why: But being arrived all thither, he conducts her into a very fair Apartment, and bade her there command that World he could command for her: He gave her there a very magnificent Supper, and all three supp'd toge­ther, Octavio and Silvia still won­dering what would be the Issue of this Business; for Octavio could not imagine that his Uncle, who was a single Man, and a grave Senator, one fam'd for a Woman-Hater, a great Railer at the Vices of young Men, should keep a fair young single Woman in his House: But it grow­ing [Page 86] late, and no Preparation for her Departing, she took the Courage to say—Sir, I am so extreamly Ob­liged to you, and have received so great a Favour from you, that I can­not flatter myself 'tis for any Vertue in me, or meerly out of Compassion to my Sex, that you have done this; but for somebody's Sake to whom I am more enjaged than I am aware of; and when you pass'd your Parole for my Liberty, I am not so vain to think it was for my Sake; therefore pray inform me, Sir, how I can pay this Debt, and to whom, and who it is you require should be bound for me, to save you harmless. Madam, cry'd Sebastian, tho' there need no greater Security than your own Innocence, yet least that Innocence should not be suf­ficient to guard you from the Outrage of a People approaching to Savages, I [...] b [...]gg [...], for your own Security, not mine, that you will make this House your Sanctuary; my Power can save you from impending Harms, and all [Page 87] that I call mine, you shall command. At this she blushing bow'd, but durst not make Reply to contradict him: She knew at least that there she was safe, and well, free from Fear of the Tyranny of the rest, or any o­ther Apprehension: 'Tis true she found by the Shyness of Octavio towards her before his Uncle, that she was to manage her Amour with him by stealth, till they could contrive matters more to their Ad­vantage: She therefore finding she should want nothing, but as much of Octavio's Conversation as she de­sired; she begg'd he would give her Leave to write a Note to her Page, who was a faithful sober Youth, to bring her Jewels, and what things she had of Value, to her, which she did, and received those and her Servants together, who [...]ound a perfect Welcome to the old Lover; but Antonett had like to have lost her Place, but that Octavio pleaded for her, and she her­self [Page 88] confessing 'twas Love to the false Brilljard, that made her do that foolish thing (in which she vow'd she thought no harm, tho' it was like to have cost so dear) she was again received into Favour: So that for some Days Silvia found herself very much at her Ease with the old Gentleman, and had no want of any thing but Octavio's Company: But she had the Pleasure to find by his Eyes and Sighs he wanted hers more: He dy'd every day, and his fair Face faded like falling Roses: Still she was gay; for if she had it not about her, she assumed it to keep him in Heart: she was not displeased to see the old Man on Fire too, and fancied some Diversion from the In­trigue: But he concealed his Passion all he could, both to hide it from his Nephew, and because he knew not what he ail'd: A strange change he found, a wonderous Disorder in Nature, but could not give a Name to it, nor Sigh aloud for fear he [Page 89] should be heard, and lose his Reputa­tion; especially for this Woman, on whom he had rail'd so lavishly. One day therefore, after a Night of Tor­ment very incommode to his Age, he takes Octavio into the Garden alone, telling him he had a great Secret to impart to him. Octavio guessing what it might be, put his Heart in as good order as he could to receive it: He at least knew the worst was but for him at last to steal Silvia from him, if he should be weak e­nough to doat on the young Char­mer, and therefore resolv'd to hear with patience. But if he were pre­pared to attend, the other was not prepared to begin, and so both walk­ed many silent Turns about the Garden. Sebastian had a-mind to ask a thousand Questions of his Ne­phew, who he found, ma [...]gre all his Vows of deserting Silvia, had no power of doing it: He had a-mind to urge him to marry the Widow, but durst not now press it, tho' he [Page 90] used to do so, least he should take it for Jealousy in him; nor durst he now forbid him seeing her, least he should betray the Secrets of his Soul: He began every Moment to love him le [...]s, as he loved Silvia more, and beholds him as an Eni­my to his Repose, nay his very Life. At last the old Man (who thought if he brought his Nephew forth under pretence of a Secret, and said nothing to him, it would have look'd ill) began to speak. Octavio, said he, I have hitherto found you so just in all you have said, that [...]were a Sin to doubt you, in what relates to Silvia. You have told me she is nobly Born; and you have with in­finite Imprecations convinced me she is Vertuous; and lastly, you have sworn she was not Married—At this he sigh'd and paus'd, and left Octavio trembling with Fear of the Result: A thousand times he was like to have denyed all, but durst not defame the most sacred Idol of his Soul: Some­times [Page 91] he thought his Uncle would be generous, and think it fit to give him Silvia; but that Thought was too Seraphick to remain a Moment in his Heart. Sir, reply'd Octavio, I own I said so of Silvia, and hope no Action she has committed since she had a Protection under your Roof has contradicted any thing I said. No, said Sebastian, sighing—and pau­sing, as loath to speak more: Sir, said Octavio, I suppose this is not the Secret you had to impart to me, for which you separate me to this lonely Walk; fear not to trust me with it, whatever it be, for I am so intirely your own, that I will grant, submit, prostrate myself, and give up all my Will, Power, and Faculties to your Interest or Designs. This incouraged the old Lover, who reply'd— Tell me on Truth, Octavio, which I re­quire of you, and I will desire no more—Have not you had the Pos­session of this fair Maid? You ap­prehend me: Now it it was that he [Page 92] fear'd what Design the Amorous old Gentleman had in his Head and Heart; and was at a loss what to say, whether to give him some Jea­lousy that he had known and pos­sess'd her, and so prevent his De­signs on her; or by saying he had not, to leave her Defenceless to his Love. But on second Thoughts, he could not resolve to say any thing to the Disadvantage of Silvia, tho' to save his own Life; and there­fore assured his Uncle he never durst assume the Boldness to ask so rude a Question of a Woman of her Qua­lity: And much more he spoke to that purpose to convince him. That 'tis true he wou'd have Marry'd her, if he cou'd have gain'd his consent; maugre all the Scandal that the mali­cious World had thrown upon her. But since he was positive in his com­mand for the Widow, he wou'd bend his Mind to Obedience. In that, replied Sabastian, you are Wise, and I am glad all your Youthful Fires [Page 93] are blown over; and having once fixt you in the World as I design, I have resolved on an Affair—At this again he paused—I am, says he, in Love,—I think it is Love, or that which you call so: I cannot eat nor sleep, nor even pray, but this fair Stranger interposes; or if by chance I slumber, all my Dreams are of her; I see her, I touch her, I imbrace her, and find a Pleasure even then that all my waking Thoughts cou'd never pro­cure me. If I go to the State House I mind nothing there, my Heart's at home with the Young Gentlewoman, on the Change or wheresoever I go, my restless Thoughts present her still be­fore me: And prethee tell me, is not this Love, Octavio? It may arrive to Love, replied the blushing Youth, if you shou'd fondly give way to it: But you are Wise and Grave, and hate all Women, Sir, till about Forty, and then for Generation only: You are a­bove the Follies of vain Youth. And let me tell you, Sir, without Offend­ing, [Page 94] Already you are charged with a Thousand little Vanities unsuitable to your Years, and the Character you have had, and the Figure you have made in the World. I heard a Lampoon on you the other day,—Pardon my Free­dom, Sir, for keeping a Beauty in your House, who they are pleased to say was my Mistress before. And pulling out a Lampoon, which his Page had be­fore given him, he gave it his Uncle. But instead of making him resolve to quit Silvia, it only serv'd to incense him against Octavio; he rail'd at all Wits, and swore there was not a more dangerous Enemy to a civil, sober Commonwealth: That a Poet was to be banish'd as a Spy, or hang'd as a Traytor: That it ought to be as much against the Law to let 'em live, as to Shoot with white Pow­der, and that to write Lampoons should be put into the Statute against Stabbing. And cou'd he find the Rogue that had the Wit to write that, he wou'd make him a war­ning [Page 95] to all the Race of that Damna­ble Vermin; what to abuse a Magi­strate, one of the States, a very Mo­narch of the Commonwealth!— 'twas Abominable and not to be born,—and looking on his Ne­phew, —and considering his Face a while, he cry'd,—I Fancy, Sir, by your Physiognomy, that you your self have a hand in this Libel: At which Octavio blush'd, which he taking for guilt, flew out into terrible Anger against him, not suffering him to speak for himself, or clear his Inno­cence. And as he was going in this Rage from him, having forbidden him ever to set his Foot within his Doors, he told him,—If, said he, the scandalous Town, from your Instruct­ions, have such Thoughts of me, I will convince it by Marrying this fair Stran­ger the first thing I do: I cannot doubt but to find a welcom since she is a Ba­nish'd Woman, without Friend or Pro­tection; and especially when she shall see how civilly you have handled her here, [Page 96] in your Dogerel Ballad: I'll teach you to be a Wit, Sir; and so your Humble Servant.—And leaving him al­most wild with his Fears, he went directly to Silvia, where he told her, his Nephew was going to make up the Match between himself and Madam the Widow of—and that he had made a scandalous Lampoon on her Fair self. He forgot nothing that might make her hate the Ami­able young Nobleman, whom she knew too well to believe that any thing of this was other than the ef­fects of his own growing Passion for her. For tho' she saw Octavio every day, in this time she had remain'd at his Uncles, yet the Old Lover so watch'd their very Looks, that 'twas impossible almost to tell one ano­thers Heart by any Glance there. But Octavio had once in this time con­vey'd a Letter to her, which having Opportunity to do he put it into her Comb-box, when he was with his Uncle one day in her Dressing-room; [Page 97] for he durst not trust her Pag [...], and less Antonett, who had before be­tray'd 'em: And having for Silvia's release so solemnly Sworn to his Un­cle, (to which Vows he took Reli­gious care to keep him.) He had so perfect an awe upon his Spirits from every Look and Command of his Uncles, he took infinitely heed how he gave him any Umbrage by any Action of his; and the rather because he hoped when time shou'd serve to bring about his Business of stealing Silvia from him, for she was kept and guarded like a mighty Heiress; so that by this prudent Management on both sides, they heighten'd the growing Love in every Heart. In that Billet which he dropt in her Comb-box, he did not only make Ten thousand Vows of Eternal Pas­sion and Faith, and beg the same assurance of her again; but told her he was secur'd (so well he thought of her) from fears of his Uncles Addresses to her, and beg'd she wou'd [Page 98] not let 'em perplex her, but rather serve her for her diversion, that she should from time to time write him all he said to her, and how he treat­ed her when alone; and that since the Old Lover was so watchful, she should not trust her Letters with any body; but as she walk'd out into the Garden, she shou'd in passing throw the Hall, put her Letter in at the broken Glass of an Old Sedan that stood there, and had stood for seve­ral Years; and that his own Page, whom he could trust, shou'd, when he came with him to his Uncles, take it from thence.—Thus every Day they writ, and received the dearest returns in the World; where all the Satisfaction, that Vows oft repeated cou'd give, was rendred each other; with an account from Silvia that was very pleasant, of all the Passion of the Doating Old Sebastian, the Presents he made her, the Fantastick Youth he would assume, and the unusual manner of his Love, which [Page 99] was a great diversion to both; and this Difficulty of speaking to Silvia, and entertaining her with Love, tho' it had its Pains, had its infinite Plea­sures too; it increas'd their Love on both sides, and all their Wishes. But now by this last Banishment from the House where she was, to lose that only Pleasure of beholding the Adorable Maid, gave him all the Pains without the hope of one Plea­sure; and he began to fear he should have a World of Difficulty to secure the dear Object of his continual Thoughts: He found no way to send to her, and dreads all his Malicious Uncle and Rival may say to his dis­advantage: He dreads even that in­finite Tenderness and Esteem he had for the good Old Man, who had been so fond a Parent to him; least e­ven that should make him unwilling to use that Extremity against him in the regaining Silvia, which he would use to any other Man. Oh, how he Curses the fatal hour [Page 100] that ever he implored his Aid for her Release; and having overcome all Difficulties, even that of his Fears of Philander, (from whom they had received no Letter in Two Months) and that of Silvia's Dis­dain, and had Establish'd himself in her Soul and her Arms; he should, by employing his Uncle's Authority for Silvia's Service, be so Unfortu­nate to involve 'em into new Dan­gers and Difficulties, of which he could foresee no other end, than that which must be fatal to some of 'em. But he believed half his Torture would be eased, could he but write to Silvia, for see her he could not hope: He bethought himself of a way atlast.

His Uncle had belonging to his House the most fine Garden of any in that Province, where those things are not much esteem'd, in which the Old Gentleman took wonderful De­light, and kept a Gardener and his Family in a little House at the far­ther [Page 101] end of the Garden, on purpose to look to it and dress it. This Man had a very great Veneration for Octa­vio, whom he call'd his Young Lord. Sure of the Fidelity of this Garde­ner, when it was dark enough to conceal him, he wrapt himself in his Cloak and got him thither by a back-way, where with Presents he soon won those to his Interest, who would before have been Com­manded by him in any Service. He had a little clean Room, and some little French Novels which he brought; and there he was as well conceal'd as if he had been at the Indies; he left word at home that he was gone out of Town. He knew well enough that Silvia's Lodgings look'd that way. And when it was dark enough he walk'd under her Window, till he saw a Candle light­ed in Silvia's Bed-Chamber, which was as great a Joy to him as the Star that Guides the Traveller, or wand­ring Seaman, or the Lamp at Sestos, [Page 102] that Guided the Ravish'd Lover o'er the Hellespont. And by that time he could imagine all in Bed, he made a little noise with a Key on the Pum­mel of his Sword; but whether Silvia heard it or not I cannot tell, but she anon came to the Window, and put­ting up the Shash, leaned on her Arms and look'd into the Garden. Oh! who but he himself that Lov'd so well as Octavio, can express the Tran­sports he was in at the Sight? which more from the Sight within than that without, he saw was the lovely Silvia; whom calling softly by her Name, answered him as if she knew the welcome Voice, and cry'd,— Whose there, Octavio? She was soon Answer'd you may imagine. And they began the most indearing Conversa­tion that ever Love could dictate. He complains on his Fate that sets 'em at that distance, and she pities him. He makes a Thousand Doubts, and she undeceives 'em all. He Fears, and she convinces his Error, [Page 103] and is impatient at his Suspicions. She will not indure him to question a Heart that has given him so many proofs of its Tenderness and Grati­tude: She tells him her own Wishes, how soft and servent they are; and assures him, he is extreamly oblig'd to her—Since for you—my Charming Friend, said she to Octavio, I have refus'd this Night to Marry your Vncle; have a care, said she, Smiling, how you treat me, least I revenge my self on you; become your Aunt, and bring Heirs to the Estate you have a Right to: The Writings of all which I have now in my Chamber, and which were but just now laid at my Feet, and which I cannot yet get him to receive back. And to oblige me to a compli­ance, has told me, how you have de­ceived me, by giving your self to ano­ther, and exposing me in Lampoons. —To this Octavio would have re­plied, but she assured him she need­ed no Argument to convince her of the Falshhood of all. He Sighs, and [Page 104] told her all she said, tho' Dear and Charming was not sufficient to ease his Heart, for he foresaw a World of hazzard to get her from thence, and mischiefs if she remained; insomuch that he caus'd the Tears to flow from the fair Eyes of Silvia, with the Re­flections on her rigid Fortune. And she cry'd, Oh, my Octavio! what strange Fate or Stars rul'd my Birth, that I shou'd be born the ruine of what I Love, or of those that Love me? At this rate they past the Night, some­times more soft, sometimes incourag­ing one another; but the last result was to contrive the means of esca­ping. He fancy'd she might easily do it by the Garden from that Win­dow: But that he was not sure he could trust the Gardener so far, who in all things would serve him, in which his Lord and Master was not Injured; and he amongst the rest of the Servants, had Order not to suffer Silvia out of the Garden, for which reason he kept a strict Guard on that [Page 105] back-Door. Some way must be found out which yet was not, and was left to time. He told her where he was, and that he wou'd not stir from thence, till he were secur'd of her flight: And Day coming on, tho' loath, yet for fear of Eyes and Ears that might Spy upon 'em, he retired to his little Lodging and Silvia to Bed; after giving and receiving a Thousand Vows and Farewels. The next Night he came to the same place, but instead of entertaining her—he only saw her softly put up the Shash a little, and throw some­thing white out of the Window and retire. He was wondring at the meaning, but taking up what was thrown down, he found and smelt it was Silvia's Handkerchief, in which was ty'd up a Billet: He went to his little Lodging and read it.

[Page 107] He had no sooner read this, but he went to write an Answer, which was this.

He writ this in Hast and Disor­der, as you may plainly see by the Stile, and went to the Window with it, where he found Silvia leaning expecting him: The Shashes were up, and he toss'd it in the Ha [...] ­kerchief into her Window: She read it, and writ an Answer back as soft as Love could form, to send [Page 110] him pleased to Bed: wherein she commanded him to hope all things form her Wit and industrious Love.

This had partly the Effects she wished, and after kissing his Hand, and throwing it up towards Silvia, they parted as silent as the Night from Day, which was now just dividing—so long they stay'd, tho' but to look at each other; so that all the Morning was pass'd in Bed to make the Day seem shorter, which was too tedious to both: This Pleasure he had after Noon, towards the Evening, that when Silvia walked, as she alwaies did in the Garden, he could see her tho­row the Glass of his Window, but durst not open it; for the old Gen­tleman was ever with her. In this time Octavio fail'd not however to essay the good Nature of the Gar­dener in order to Silvia's Flight, but [...]ound there was no dealing with him in this Affair; and therefore durst not come right down to the [Page 111] Point: The next Night he came un­der the beloved Window again, and found the sacred Object of his Wishes leaning in the Window expecting him: To whom, as soon as she heard his Tread on the Gravel, she threw down a Handkerchief again, which he took up, and toss'd his own with a soft complaining Let­ter to entertain her till his Return; for he hasted to read hers, and swep'd the Garden as he pass'd as swift as Wind; so impatient he was to see the Inside—which he found thus.

[Page 113] He immediately sate down and writ this.

[Page 114] After he had writ this he hast'd and throws it into her Window, and return'd to Bed without seeing her, which was no small Affliction to his Soul: He had an ill Night of it, and fancied a thousand tormenting things; That the old Gentleman might th [...] be with her; and if a­lone, what might he not perswade by force of rich Presents, of which his Uncle was well stored: And so he guess'd, and as he guess'd it proved, as by his next Nights Let­ter he was inform'd, that the old Lover no sooner saw Silvia retire, but having a mind to try his For­tune in some Critical Minute— for such a Minute he had heard there was that favoured Lovers; but he goes to his Closet, and ta­king out some Jewels of great Va­lue, to make himself the more wel­come, he goes directly to Silvia's Chamber, and entered just as she had taken up Octavio's Letter, and [Page 115] clap'd it in her Bosom as she heard some body at the Door; but was not in a little Confusion when she saw who it was; which she excused, by telling him she was surpriz'd to find herself with a Man in her Chamber: That there he fell to plead­ing his cause of Love; and offered her again to settle his Estate upon her, and implor'd she would be his Wife. After a thousand faint De­nials, she told him she could not possibly receive that Honour, but if she could, she would have look'd upon it as a great Favour from Hea­ven; at that he was Thunder-struck, and look'd as gastly as if his Mo­thers Ghost had frighten'd him; and after much Debate, Love and Grief on his side, Design and Dissimula­tion on hers, she gave him Hopes that Aton'd for all she had before said; insomuch that before they par­ted an absolute Bargain was struck up, and he was to settle part of his Estate upon her, as also that Villa, [Page 116] to which he had resolved in two days to carry her; in earnest to this he presents her a Necklace of Pearl of good Value, and other Jewels, which was the best Rhetorick he had yet spoke to her; and now she ap­pear'd the most Complaisant Lady in the World, she suffers him to talk wantonly to her, nay even to kiss her, and rub his grizly Beard on her divine Face, grasp her Hands, and touch her Breast; a Blessing he had never before arriv'd to with a­ny body above the Quality of his own Servant-Maid. To all which she makes the best Resistance she can, under the Circumstances of one who was to deceive well; and while she loaths she seems well pleas'd, while the gay Jewels spark­led in her Eyes and Octavio in her Heart; so fond is Youth of Vani­ties, and to purchase an addition of Beauty at any Price. Thus with her pretty Flatteries she wrought upon his Soul, and smil'd and look'd [Page 117] him into Faith; loth to depart she sends him pleas'd away, and having her Heart the more inclin'd to Octa­vio by being Persecuted with his Uncles Love (for by Comparison she finds the mighty Difference) she sets herself to write him the Account of what I have related; this Nights Adventure and Agreement between his Uncle and herself. She tells him that to Morrow, for now 'twas al­most Day, she had promised him to go to his Villa: She tells him at what rate she has purchased the Blessing expected; and lastly, leaves the management of the rest to him, who needs not be instructed. This Letter he receiv'd the next Night, at the old place, and Silvia with it lets down a Velvet Night Bag, which contain'd all the Jewels and things of Value she had receiv'd of himself, his Uncle, or any other: After which he retired, and was pretty well at ease, with the ima­gination he should ere long be made [Page 118] Happy in the Possession of Silvia: In order to it the next Morning he was early up, and dressing himself in a great course Campagne-Coat of the Gardeners, puting up his Hair, as well as he could, under a Coun­try-Hat, he got on a Horse that suited his Habit, and rides to the Villa, whither they were to come, and which he knew perfectly well every Room of; for there our He­ro was born. He went to a little Caberet in the Village, from whence he could survey all the great House, and see every Body that pass'd in and out: He remain'd fix'd at the Window, fill'd with a thousand A­gitations; this he had resolv'd, not to set upon the good old Man as a Thief or Robber; nor could he find in this Heart or Nature to injure him, tho' but in a little afrighting him, who had given him so many anxious Hours, and who had been so unjust to desire that Blessing him­self, he would not allow him; and [Page 119] to believe that a Vertue in himself, which he exclaim'd against as so great a Vice in his Nephew; ne­vertheless he resolv'd to deceive him, to save his own Life. And he wan­ted that nice part of Generosity, as to satisfy a little unnecessary Lust in an old Man, to ruin the eternal Content of a young one, so nearly allied to his Soul, as was his own dear proper Person. While he was thus considering he saw his Uncle's Coach coming, and Silvia with that doting Lover in it, who was that day dres­sed in all the Fopperies of Youth, and every thing was young and gay about him but his Person, that was Winter it self, disguised in arti­ficial Spring; and he was altogether a meer Contradiction: But who can guess the Disorders and Pantings of Octavio's Heart at the Sight; and tho' he had resolved before he would not to save his Life lay vio­lent Hands on his old Parent; yet at their Approach, at their presenting [Page 120] themselves together before his Eyes, as two Lovers going to betray him to all the Miseries, Pangs, and Con­fusions of Love, going to possess —her, the dear Object and cer­tain Life of his Soul, and she the Parent of him, to whom she had disposed of herself so intirely alrea­dy, he was provok'd to break from all his Resolutions, and with one of those two Pistols he had in his Pockets, to have sent unerring Death to his old amorous Heart: But that Thought was no sooner born than stifled in his Soul, where it met with all the Sence of Gratitude that ever could present the tender Love and dear Care of a Parent there; and the Coach passing into the Gate put him upon new Designs, and before they were finished he saw Silvia's Page coming from the House, after seeing his Lady to her Apartment, and being show'd his own, where he laid his Vallice and Riding-things, and was now come out to look a­bout [Page 121] a Country where he had ne­ver been before. Octavio goes down and meets him, and ventures to make himself known to him: And so in­finitely glad was the Youth to have an Opportunity to serve him, that he vow'd he would not only do it with his Life, on Occasion, but be­liev'd he could do it effectually, since the old Gentleman had no sort of Jealousie now; especially since they had so prudently manag'd Matters in this time of his Ladies remain­ing at Sebastian's House. So that, Sir, it will not be difficult, says the generous Boy, for me to convey you to my Lodging when it is dark. He told him his Lady cast many a long­ing Look out towards the Road as she pass'd, for you, I am sure my Lord—for she had told both myself and Antonett of her Design before, least our Surprize or Resistance should prevent any Force you might use on the Road, to take her from my Lord Sebastian: She sigh'd and look'd on [Page 122] me as she alighted, with Eyes, my Lord, that told me her Grief for your Disappointment. You may ea­sily imagine how transported the poor Octavio was; he kiss'd and imbrac'd the Amiable Boy a thou­sand times; and taking a Ring from his Finger of considerable Va­lue, gave it the dear Reviver of his Hopes. Octavio already knew the Strength of the House, which con­sisted but of a Gardener, whose Wife was House-keeper, and their Son, who was his Fathers Servant in the Garden, and their Daughter, who was a sort of Maid-servant: And they had brought only the Coach-man, and one Foot-man, who were likely to be mirrily imploy'd in the Kitchin at Night when all got to Supper together. I say, Octa­vio already knew this, and there was now nothing that opposed his Wishes: So that dismissing the dear Boy he remained the rest of the te­dious Day at the Caberet, the most [Page 123] impatient of Night of any Man on Earth: And when the Boy appear'd it was like the Approach of an An­gel. He told him his Lady was the most Melancholy Creature that ever Eyes beheld, and that to conceal the Cause, she had feigned herself Ill, and had not stir'd from her Cham­ber all the day: That the old Lo­ver was perpetually with her, and the most concern'd Doatard that e­ver Cupid inslav'd: That he had so wholly taken up his Lady with his disagreeable Entertainment, that it was impossible either by a Look or Note to inform her of his being so near her, whom she considered as her present Defender, and her future Happiness. But this Evening, con­tinued the Youth, as I was wai­ting on her at Supper, she spy'd the Ring on my Finger, which, my Lord, your Bounty made me Master of this Morning. She blush'd a Thou­sand times and fix'd her Eyes upon it, for she knew it, and was Impatient to [Page 124] have ask'd me some Questions, but con­tain'd her Words. And after that I saw a Ioy dance in her lovely Eyes, that told me, She devin'd you were not far from thence. Therefore I beseech your Lord­ship let us haste. So both went out together, and the Page Conducted him into a Chamber he better knew than the Boy, while every Moment he receives Intelligence how Affairs went in that of Silvia's, by the Page, who leaving Octavio there went out as a Spy for him. In fine, with much ado, Silvia perswaded her Old Lo­ver to urge her for no Favours that Night, for she was indispos'd and unfit for Love; yet she perswades with such an Air, so Smiling and Insinuating, that she increases the Fire she indeavour'd to allay: but he, who was all Obedience as well as New Desire, resolves to humour her, and shew the perfect Gallantry of his Love; he promises her she shall command: And after that ne­ver was the Old Gentleman seen in [Page 125] so excellent a Humour before, in the whole Course of his Life; a cer­tain Lightening against a Storm, that must be fatal to him. He was no sooner gone from her, with a pro­mise to go to Bed and Sleep, that he might be the earlier up, to show her the fine Gardens which she lov'd, but she sends Antonett to call the Page, from whom she long'd to know something of Octavio, and was sure he cou'd inform her. But she was undressing while she spoke, and got into her Bed before she left her: But Antonett, instead of bringing the Sighing Youth, brought the Transported and Ravish'd Octavio, who had by this time pull'd off his Course Campaign and put down his Hair. He fell breathless with Joy on her Bed side; when Antonett, who knew that Love desired no lookers on, retired and left Octavio almost dead with Joy, in the Clasping Arms of the Trembling Maid, the lovely Silvia. Oh, who can guess their sa­tisfaction? [Page 126] Who can guess their Sighs and Love? their tender Words half stifled in Kisses; Lovers! fond Lovers! only can imagine; to all be­sides this Tale will be Insipid. He now forgets where he is, that not far off lay his Amorous Uncle, that to be found there was Death and something worse; but wholly Ra­vish'd with the Languishing Beauty, taking his Pistols out of either Poc­ket, he lays them on a Dressing Table near the Bed side, and in a Moment throws off his Cloths, and gives himself up to all the Heaven of Love that lay ready to receive him there, without thinking of any thing but the vast Power of eithers Charms. They lay and forgot the hasty Hours, but Old Sebastian did not. They were all counted by him, with the Impatience of a Lover: He Burnt, he Rag'd with fierce Desire, and tost from side to side and found no ease; Silvia was present in Imagination, and he like Tantalus reaches at the [Page 127] Food, which, tho' in view, is not within his reach: He wou'd have Pray'd, but he had no Devotion for any Deity but Silvia; he rose and walk'd, and went to Bed again, and found himself uneasie every way. A Thousand times he was about to go, and try what Opportunity would do in the dark silent Night—but fears her Rage—he fears she'll chide at least; then he resolves and unresolves as fast: Unhappy Lover—thus to blow the Fire when there were no Materials to supply it; at last over­come with fierce Desire, too Violent to be withstood, or rather Fate wou'd have it so ordained, he ven­tures all, and steals to Silvia's Cham­ber, believing when she found him in her Arms she could not be dis­pleased; or if she were, that was the surest place of Reconciliation: So that only putting his Night Gown about him, he went softly to her Chamber for fear of waking her: The unthinking Lovers had left open [Page 128] the Door, so that it was hardly put to. And the first Alarm was Octa­vio's Hand being seiz'd, which was Clasping his Treasure. He starts from the frighted Arms of Silvia, and leaping from the Bed wou'd have escaped, for he knew too well the touch of that Old Hand; but Seba­stian wholly surpriz'd at so robust a repulse, took most unfortunately a stronger hold, and laying both his Hands roughly upon him, with a Resolution to know who he was, for he felt his Hair; and Octavio struggling at the same Minute to get from him, they both fell against the Dressing Table, threw down the Pi­stols; in their fall one of which go­ing off, shot the unfortunate Old Lover into the Head, so that he ne­ver spoke word more: At the going off of the Pistol, Silvia, who had not minded those Octavio laid on the Table, cry'd▪ out—Oh my Octa­vio! —My dearest Charmer, reply'd he, I'm well—And feeling on the [Page 129] Dead Body, which he wonder'd had no longer Motion, he felt Blood flowing round it, and Sighing cry'd —Ah, Silvia! I'm undone— My Vncle—Oh my Parent— Speak, Dear Sir! Oh! what unlucky Accident has done this fatal Deed? Silvia, who was very soft by Na­ture, was extreamly surpriz'd, and frightned at the News of a Dead Man in her Chamber, so that she was rea­dy to run Mad with the Apprehensi­on of it: She rav'd and tore her self, and exprest her Fright in Cries and Distraction; so that Octavio was compelled from one charitable Grie [...] to another. He goes to her and Comforts her, and tells, since 'tis by no design of either of them, their In­nocence will be their Guardian An­gel. He tells her all their fault was Love, which made him so heedlesly fond of Joys with her, he staid to reap those when he should have se­cur'd 'em by Flight. He tells her this is now no place to stay in, and [Page 130] that he would put on her Clothes and fly with her to some secure part of the World; For who, said he, that finds this poor Vnfortunate here, will not charge his Death on me or thee. —Haste then, my dearest Maid, haste, haste, and let us fly—So dressing her he led her into Antonett's Chamber, and conjured her to say nothing of the Accident, while he went to see which way they could get out. So locking the Chamber door where the dead Body lay, which by this time was stiff and cold; he lock'd that also of his Uncle's Chamber, and calling the Page they all got themselves ready; and puting Two Horses in the Coach, they unseen and unperceived got themselves all out: The Servants having drunk hard at their meeting in the Country last Night, were all too sound a sleep to understand any thing of what past. It being now about the Break of Day, Octavio was the Coachman, and the Page Riding by the Coach­side, [Page 131] while Silvia and Antonett were in it, they in an hours time reach'd the Town, where Octavio pack'd up all that was carriageable; took his own Coach and Six Horses; left his Affairs to the Managent of a Kins­man that dwelt with him; took Bills to the value of Two thousand Pounds, and immediately left the Town, af­ter receiving some Letters that came last Night by the Post, one of which was from Philander; and indeed this new Grief upon Octavio's Soul, made him the most Dejected and Melan­choly Man in the World, insomuch that he, who never wept for any thing but for Love, was often found with Tears rowling down his Cheeks, at the remembrance of an Accident so deplorable, and of which he and his unhappy Passion was the Cause, tho' Innocently: Yet could not the dire Reflection oft hat, nor the loss of so tender a Parent, as was Sebastian, lessen one Spark of that Fire for Silvia, whose unfortunate [Page 132] Flame had been so Fatal. While They were safe out of danger, the Servants of Sebastian admired when Ten, Eleven and Twelve a Clock was come, they saw neither the Old Lord nor any of the New Guests. But when the Coachman mist his Coach and Horses he was in a grea­ter maze, and thought some Body had stollen 'em, and accusing him­self of Sluggishness and Debauchery, that made him not able to hear when the Coach went out, he forswore all Drinking. But when the House­keeper and he met and discoursed about the Lady and the rest, they concluded that the Old Gentleman and she were agreed upon the mat­ter, and being got to Bed together had quite forgot themselves; and made a Thousand Roguish remarks upon 'em. They believed the Maid and the Page too were as well im­ploy'd, since they saw neither. But when Dinner was ready she went up to the Maids Chamber and found it [Page 133] empty, as also that of the Page; her Heart then presaging something, she ventures to knock at her Lord's Chamber door, but finding it Lock'd and none Answer, they broke it open; and after doing the same by that of Silvia, they found the Poor Sebastian stretch'd on the Floor, and Shot in the Head, the Toylet pull'd almost down, and the Lock of the Pistol hanging in the point of the Toylet intangled, and the Muzzle of it just against the Wound. At first when they saw him they fancy'd Silvia might kill him, for either o [...]fering to come to Bed to her in the Night, or for some other Mali­cious end. But when they saw how the Pistol lay they fancy'd it Acci­dent in the Dark; For, said the Woman—I and my Daughter have been up ever since Day-break, and, I'm sure no such thing happen'd then, nor co [...]ld th [...]y since escape: And it be­ing natural in Holland to cry, Lope Schellum, that is, Run Rogue, to him [Page 134] that is alive, and who has kill'd ano­ther; and for every Man to set a help­ing Hand to bear him out of Danger, thinking it too much that one's al­ready dead: I say, this being the Nature of the People, they never pursu'd the Murderers or fled Persons, but suffered Sebastian to lie till the Coroner sat upon him, who found it, or at least thought it, Accident; and there was all for that time. But this, with all the reasonable Circum­stances, did not satisfie the States. Here is one of their High and Migh­ties killed, a fair Lady fled, and upon inquiry a fine Young Fel­low too, the Nephew: All knew they were Rivals in this fair Lady; all knew there were Animosities be­tween 'em; all knew Octavio was absconded some Days before; so that, upon Consideration, they con­cluded he was Murder'd by Com­pact; and the rather, because they wish'd it so in spight to Octavio; and because both he and Silvia were fled [Page 135] like Guilty Persons. Upon this they make a Seizure of both his and his Uncle's Estate, to the use of the States. Thus the best and most glo­rious Man that ever grac'd that part of the World was undone by Love. While Silvia with Sighs and Tears would often say, That sure she was born the Fate of all that Ador'd her, and no Man ever thriv'd that had a Design upon her, or a Pretension to her.

Thus between excess of Grief and excess of Love, which indeed lay veil'd in the first, they arriv'd at Bruxells; where Octavio, having News of the proceedings of the States against him, resolving rather to lose his Life, than tamely to sur­render his Right, he went forth in order to take some Care about it: And in these extreams of a troubled Mind he had forgot to read Philan­der's Letters, but gave 'em to Sil­via to peruse, till he return'd, be­seeching and conjuring her, by all [Page 136] the Charms of Love, not to suf­fer herself to be afflicted, but now to consider she was wholly his; and she could not, and ought not to rob him of a Sigh or Tear for any other Man. For they had concluded to marry as soon as Silvia should be delivered from that part of Philan­der of which she was possess'd. There­fore beholding her intirely his own, of whom he was so fondly tender, he could not indure the Wind should blow on her, and kiss her lovely Face: Jealous of even the Air she breath'd, he was ever putting her in mind of whose and what she was; and she ever giving him new As­surances that she was only Octavio's. The last part of his ill News he conceal'd from her; that of the Usage of the States. He was so intirely careful of her Fame, that he had two Lodgings, one, most mag­nificent, for her, another for him­self; and only visited her all the live-long Day. And being now re­ [...]red [Page 137] from her, she, whose Love and Curiosity grew less every day for the false Philander, open'd his Let­ter with a Sigh of departed Love, and read this.

As cold and as unconcern'd as Sil­via imagin'd she had found her Heart to Philander's Memory, at the read­ing of this Letter, in spight of all the Tenderness she had for Octavio, she was possest with all those pains of Love and Jealousie, which here­tofore tormented her when Love was Young, and Philander appear­ed with all those Charms with which he first Conquer'd; she found [Page 149] the Fire was but hid under those Embers, which every little blast blows off and makes it Flame a new. 'Twas now that she forgetting all the past Obligations of Octavio, all his vast Presents, his Vows, his Suf­ferings, his Passion and his Youth, abandon'd herself wholly to her Ten­derness for Philander, and drowns her fair Cheeks in a Shower of Tears: And having eas'd her Heart a little by this natural Relief of her Sex, she opened the Letter that was de­sign'd for her self, and read this.

This Letter raised in her a dif­ferent Sentiment from that of the Story of his Misfortune; and that taught her to know that this he had writ to her was all false and dissembl'd: Which made her in con­cluding [Page 152] the Letter, cry out with a vehement Scorn and Indignation —Oh how I hate thee Traytor! who hast the Impudence to continue thus to impose upon me, as if I wanted common Sense to see thy Baseness: For what can be more Base and Cow­ardly than Lyes, that poor Plebeian Shift; contemn'd by Men of Honour or of Wit. This she spoke without reminding that this most contemp­tible Quality she herself was equal­ly guilty of, tho' infinitely more ex­cusable in her Sex, there being a thousand little Actions of their Lives liable to Censure and Reproach, which they would willingly excuse and colour over with little Falsities; but in a Man, whose most incon­stant Actions pass oftentimes for in­nocent Gallantries, and to whom 'tis no Infamy to own a thousand A­mours, but rather a Glory to his Fame and Merit: I say, in him (whom Custom has favoured with an Allowance to commit any Vice [Page 153] and boast it) 'tis not so brave. And this Fault of Philander's cur'd Sil­via of her Disease of Love; and cha­ced from her Heart all that Softness which once had so much favoured him. Nevertheless she was fill'd with Thoughts that fail'd not to make her extreamly Melancholy: And 'twas in this Humour Octavio found her; who forgetting all his own Griefs, to lessen hers (for his Love was arrived to a degree of Madness) he caresses her with all the Elo­quence his Passion could pour out; he falls at her Feet, and pleads with such a Look and Voice as could not be resisted; nor ceas'd he till he had talk'd her into Ease, till he had look'd and lov'd her into a perfect Calm: 'Twas then he urg'd her to a new Confirmation of her Heart to him, and took hold of every yielding Softness in her to improve his Ad­vantage. He press'd her to all [...] wish'd, but by such tender Degrees, by Arts so fond and indearing [...] [Page 154] the could deny nothing. In this Humour she makes a thousand Vows against Philander; to hate him as a Man that has first ruined her Ho­nour, and then abandon'd her to all the Ills that attend ungoverned Youth, and unguarded Beauty: She makes Octavio swear as often to be reveng'd on him, for the Dishonour of his Sister: Which being perform­ed, they re-assum'd all the Satisfacti­ons, which had seem'd almost de­stroy'd by adverse Fate, and for a little space liv'd in great Tranquil­lity; or if Octavio had Sentiments that represented past Unhappinesses and a future Prospect of ill Conse­quences, he strove with all the Pow­er of Love to hide 'em from Silvia. In this time they often sent to the Nunnery of the Augustins, to in­quire of the Countess of Clarinau; and at last hearing she was arrived, no force of Perswasion or Reason could hinder Silvia from going to make her a Visit: Octavio pleads in [Page 155] vain the overthrow of all his Re­venge, by his Sisters, knowledge that her Intrigue was found out: But in an Undress—for her Conditi­on permitted no other, she is carri­ed to the Monastery, and asks for the Mother Prioress, who came to the Grate: Where after the first Complement's over, she tells her she is a Relation to that Lady who such a day came to the House. Silvia by her Habit and Equipage appearing of Quality; was answered, that tho [...] the Lady were very much indispos'd, and unfit to appear at the Grate, she would nevertheless indeavour to serve her, since she was so earnest; and commanding one of the Nuns, to call down Madam the Countess, she immediately came; but tho' in a Dress all negligent, and Face where Languishment appeared, she at first sight surprized our Fair One; with a certain Majesty in her Mein and Motion, and an Air of Greatness in her Face, which resembled that of [Page 156] Octavio: So that not being able to sustain herself on her trembling Sup­porters, she was ready to faint at a Sight so charming, and a Form An­gelick. She saw her all that Phi­lander had describ'd; nor could the Partiality of his Passion render her more lovely than she appear'd this Instant to Silvia. She came to re­proach her—but she found a Ma­jesty in her Looks above all Cen­sure, that aw'd the jealous Upbrai­der, and almost put her out of Coun­ [...]enance; and with a rising Blush she seem'd asham'd of her Errand. At this Silence the lovely Calista, a little surpriz'd, demanded of an at­tending Nun if that Lady would speak with her? This awaked Sil­via into an Address, and she reply'd; Yes, Madam, I am the Vnfortunate, who am compell'd by my hard Fate to complain of the most charming Wo­man that ever Nature made: I thought in coming hither I should have had no other Business but to have told you [Page 157] how false, how perjured a Lover I had had; but at a Sight so wonderous I blame him no more (whom I find now compell'd to love) but you, who have taken from me, by your Charms, the only Blessing Heaven had lent me. This she ended with a Sigh, and Madam the Countess, who from the beginning of her speaking guess'd, from a certain trembling at her Heart, who it was she spoke of, resolv'd to show no Signs of a womanish Fear or Je [...]lousy, but with an unalterable Air and Courage, reply'd, Madam, if my Charms were so powerful, as you are pleased to tell me they are, they sure have attracted too many Lovers for me to understand which of 'em it is I have been so unhappy to rob you of. If he be a gallant Man, I shall neither deny him, nor repent my Lo­ving him the more, for his having been a Lover before. To which, Sil­via, who expected not so brisk an Answer, reply'd. She that makes such a Confession with so much Gene­rosity, [Page 158] I know cannot be insensible of the Injuries she does, but will have a Consideration and Pity for those Wretches at least, who are undone to establish her Satisfaction. Madam, reply'd the Countess (a little touch'd with the Tenderness and Sadness with which she spoke) you have so just a Character of my Soul, that I assure you, I would not, for any Plea­sure in the World, do an Action should render it less worthy of your good Thoughts. Name me the Man— and if I find him such as I may re­turn you with Honour, he shall find my Friendship no more. Ah Madam, 'tis impossible, cry'd Silvia, that he can ever be mine, that has once had the Glory of being conquered by you; and what's yet more, of having con­ [...]uered you. Nay, Madam, reply'd Calista, if your Loss be irrecovera­ble, I have no more to do, but to sigh with you, and joyn our hard Fates; but I am not so vain of my own Beau­ty, nor have so little Admiration for [Page 159] that of yours, to imagine I can retain any thing you have a Claim to [...] for me, I am not fond of Admirers, if Heaven be pleased to give me one, I ask no more. I'll leave the World to you, so it allow me my Philander. This she spoke with a little Malice, which call'd up all the Blushes in the fair Face of Silvia; who a lit­tle netled at the word Philander, re­ply'd. Go, take the perjured Man, and see how long you can maintain your Empire over his fickle Heart, who has already betray'd you to all the Reproach an incensed Rival and an in­jured Brother can load you with: See where he has exposed you to Octavio; and after that tell me what you can hope from such a perjured Villain— At these Words she gave her the Let­ter Philander had writ to Octavio, with that he had writ to herself— and without taking Leave or speak­ing any more, she left her thought­ful Rival: Who after pausing a Moment on what should be writ [Page 160] there, and what the angry Lady ment, she silently passed on to her Chamber. But if she were surprized with her Visiter, she was much more when opening the Letters, she found one to her Brother, filled with the History of her Infamy, and what pressed her Soul more sensibly, the other fill'd with Passion and Soft­ness to a Mistriss. She had scarcely read them out but a young Nun, her Kinswoman, came into her Cham­ber; whom I have since heard pro­test she scarce saw in that Moment any Alteration in her, but that she rose and received her with her won­ted Grace and Sweetness; and but for some Answers that she made mal a propo, and Sighs that against her Will broke from her Heart, she should not have found an Alterati­on; but this being unusual made her Inquisitive; and the faint Denial she met with made her importune, and that so earnestly and with so many Vows of Fidelity and Secrecy, [Page 161] that Calistas's Heart, even breaking within, poured it self for Ease into the faithful Bosom of this young Devotee; and having told her all the Story of her Misfortune, she began with so much Courage and bravery of Mind, to make Vows against the charming Betrayer of her Fame, and with him all Mankind; and this with such Consideration and Repen­tance as left no room for Reproach or Perswasion; and from this Mo­ment resolved never to quit the So­litude of the Cloysters. She had all her Life before her Marriage lived in one, and wished now she never had seen the World, or departed from a Life so pure and Innocent. She looked upon this fatal Accident now a Blessing, to bring her back to a Life of Devotion and Tranquillity; and indeed is a Miracle of Piety. Sometime after this she was brought to Bed, but commanded the Child should be removed where she might never see it, which accordingly was [Page 162] done; after which, in due time, she took the Habit; and remains a rare Example of Repentance, and Holy­living. This new Penitent became the News of the whole Town; and it was not without some Pleasure that Octavio heard it, as the only Action she could do that could re­concile him to her; the knowledg of which, and a few soft Days with Silvia, made him chase away all those Shiverings that had seized him upon several Occasions: But Silvia was all Sweetness, all Love and good Humour, and made his Days easy, and his Nights intirely Happy. While on the other side there was no Sa­tisfaction, no Pleasure, that the fond lavish Lover did not at any Price purchase for her Repose; for it was the whole Business of his Life to study what would charm and please her: And being assured by so many Vows of her Heart, there was no­thing rested to make him perfectly Happy, but her being delivered of [Page 163] what belong'd to his Rival, and in which he had no part, he was at perfect Ease. This she wishes with an Impatience equal to his; whose Love and Fondness for Octavio ap­peared to be arrived to the highest Degree, and she every Minute ex­pected to be freed from the only thing that hinder'd her from giving herself intirely to her impatient Lo­ver.

In the midst of this Serenity of Af­fairs, Silvia's Page one day brings 'em News his Lord was arriv'd, and that he saw him in the Park walk­ing with some French Gentlemen, and undiscovered to him came to give her Notice, that she might take her measures accordingly, in spight of all her Love to Octavio: Her Blushes flew to her Cheeks at the News, and her Heart panted with unusual Motion; she wonders at her self and Fears, and doubts her own Resolution; she till now be­liev'd him wholly indifferent to her, [Page 164] but she knows not what Constructi­on this new Disorder will bear; and what confounded and perplext her more, was, That Octavio beheld all these Emotions, with unconceivable resentment, he swells with Pride and Anger, and even bursts with Grief, and not able longer to con­tain his complaint, he reproaches her in the softest Language that e­ver Love and Grief invented; while she weeps with Shame and divided Love, and demands of him a Thou­sand Pardons; she deals thus kindly at least with him to confess this Truth; that 'twas impossible, but at the approach of a Man who taught her first to love, and for which Knowledge she had paid so infinitely dear, she could not but feel unusual Motions, that that Ten­derness and Infant Flame he once in­spired could not but have left some warmth about her Heart, and that Philander, the once charming dear Philander, could never be absolutely [Page 165] to her as a common Man, and beg'd that he would give some grains of allowance to a Maid, so soft by Na­ture, and who had once lov'd so well to be undone for the dear Ob­ject; and tho' every kind word she gave his Rival was a Dagger at his Heart, nevertheless, he found, or would think he found some reason in what she said; at least he seem'd more appeased, while she on the other side dissembled all the ease and repose of Mind, that could flat­ter him to Calmness.

You must know that for Silvia's Honour, she had Lodgings by her self, and Octavio had his in another House, at an Aunts of his, a Widow, and a Woman of great Quality; and Silvia being near her Lying-in, had provided all things with the greatest Magnificence imaginable, and past for a Young Widow whose Husband died at the Siege of—Octavio on­ly visited her daily, and all the Nights she had to her self. For he [Page 166] treated her as one whom he design'd to make his Wife, and one whose Honour was his own; but that Night the News of Philander's Arri­val was told her, she was more than ordinary impatient to have him gone pretending Illness, and yet seem'd loth to let him go, and Lovers (the greatest Cullies in Nature, and the aptest to be deceived, tho' the most quick-sighted)—do the soonest believe; and finding it the more ne­cessary he should depart, the more ill she feign'd to be, he took his Leave, and left her to her Repose, after taking all care necessary for one in her Circumstances. But she, to make his Absence more sure, and fearing least he should suspect some­thing of her Design, being herself Guilty, she orders him to be call'd back, and Caresses him anew, tells him she was never more unwilling to part with him, and all the while is complaining and wishing to be in Bed: And says he must not stir [Page 167] till he sees her laid. This obliges and cajoles him anew, and he will not suffer her Women to undress her, but does the grateful Business himself, and reaps some dear Recom­pence by every Service, and pleases his Eyes and Lips with the ravishing Beauties of the loose unguarded suf­fering Fair one. She permits him a­ny thing to have him gone, which was not till he saw her laid as if to her Rest: But he was no sooner got into his Coach, but she rose and slip'd on her Night-Gown and some other loose things, and got into a Chair, commanding her Page to con­duct the Chair-men to all the great Cabarets: Where she believed it most likely to find Philander; which was accordingly done; and the Page en­tering, enquires for such a Cavalier, describing his Person and fine re­markable black Hair of his own: But the first he entered into he saw Brilljard bespeaking Supper: For you must know that that Husband-Lover [Page 168] being left, as I have said, in Prison in Holland, for the Accusati­on of Octavio; the unhappy young Noble Man was no sooner fled up­on the unlucky Death of his Uncle, but the States set Brilljard at Liber­ty; who took his Journey immedi­ately to Philander, whom he found just released from his troublesome Affair, and design'd for Bruxells, where they arriv'd that very Morn­ing. Where the first thing he did was to go to the Nunnery of St. Au­stin, to inquire for the fair, Calista; but instead of encountering the kind, the impatient, the brave Calista, he was addressed to by the old Lady Abbess in so rough a manner, that he no longer doubted upon what Terms he stood there, tho' he wondered how they should know his Story with Calista: When to put him out of Doubt, she assured him he should never more behold the Face of her injured Neece; for whose Revenge she left him to Heaven. It was in [Page 169] vain he kneel'd and implored; he was confirm'd again and again she should never come from out the Confines of those Walls; and that her whole remaining Life spent in Penitence was too little to wash away her Sins with him: And giving him the Letter he sent to Octavio (which Silvia had given Calista, and she the Lady Abbess, with a full Confession of her Fault) she cry'd; See there, Sir, the Treachery you have commit­ted against a Woman of Quality— whom your Criminal Love has ren­dred, the most Miserable of her Sex. At the ending of which, she drew the Curtain over the Grate and left him, wholly amazed and confound­ed, finding it to be the same he had writ to Octavio, and in it that he had writ to Silvia: By the sight of which he no longer doubted but that Confident had betrayed him e­very way. He rails on his false Friendship, curses the Lady Abbess, himself, his Fortune and his Birth; [Page 170] but finds it all in vain: Nor was he so infinitely afflicted with the thought of the eternal Loss of Ca­lista (because he had possessed her) as he was to find himself betray'd to her, and doubtless to Silvia by Octavio; and nothing but Calista's being confin'd from him (tho' she were very dear and charming to his Thoughts) could have made him rave so extreamly for a Sight of her: He loves her the more by how much more it was impossible for him to see her; and that Difficulty and his Dispair increased his Flame. In this Humour he went to his Lodging, the most undone Extravagant that ever rag'd with Love. He considers her in a place where no Art or force of Love, or humane Wit can retrieve her; no nor so much as send her a Letter. This added to his Fu­ry, and in his first wild Imagina­tions he resolves nothing less than firing the Monastery, that in that Confusion he might Seize his right [Page 171] of Love; and do a Deed that would render his Name as famous as the Athenian Youth, who to get a Fame, tho' an Inglorious one, fired the Temple of their Gods. But his Rage abating by Consideration, that Im­piety dwelt not long with him: And he ran over a number more, till from one to another he reduced himself to a degree of Moderation, which presented him with some flat­tering Hope, that gave him a little Ease: 'Twas then that Chivalier To­maso, and another French Gentleman of Cesario's Faction (who were new­ly arrived in Bruxells) came to pay him their Respects: And after a while carried him into the Park to walk, where Silvia's Page had seen him; and from whence they sent Brilljard to bespeak Supper at this Cabaret, where Silvia's Chair and herself waited, and where the Page found Brilljard, of whom he asked for his Lord; but understan­ding he would not possibly come in [Page 172] some Hours, being design'd for Court that Evening, whither he was obliged to go and kiss the Gover­nours Hands, he went to the Lady, who was almost dead with Impa­tience, and told her what he had learn'd: Upon which she ordered her Chairmen to carry her back to her Lodgings, for she would not be perswaded to ask any Questions of Brilljard, for whom she had a mor­tal Hate: However she resolved to send the Page back with a Billet to wait Philander's coming; which was not long; for having sooner dis­patched their Complement at Court than they believed they should, they went all to Supper together, where Brilljard had bespoke it: Where be­ing impatient to learn all the Ad­ventures of Cesario since his Depar­ture from him, and of which no Per­son could give so good an Ac­count as Chivalier Tomaso, Phi­lander gave order that no body whomsoever should disturb them, [Page 173] and sate himself down to listen to the Fortune of the Prince.

You know, my Lord, said Toma­so, the state of Things at your De­parture; and that all our glorious Designs for the Liberty of all France were discovered and betray'd by some of those little Rascals, that great Men are obliged to make use of in the greatest Designs: Upon whose Confession you were proscrib'd, my­self, this Gentleman, and several o­thers: It was our good Fortunes to escape untaken, and yours to fall first into the Messenger's Hands, and carried to the Bastile, even from whence you had the Luck to escape: But it was not so with Cesario. Hea­vens, cry'd Philander, the Prince I hope is not taken? Not so neither, reply'd Tomaso, nor should you won­der you have receiv'd no News of him in a long time, since forty thousand Crowns being offered for his Head, or to any that could dis­cover him, it would have exposed [Page 174] him to have written to any body, he being beset on all sides with Spies from the King; so that it 'twas im­possible to venture a Letter without very great Hazzard of his Life. Be­sides all these Hindrances, Cesario, who, you know, was ever a great admirer of the fair Sex, happen'd in this his Retreat to fall most despe­rately in Love: Nor could the fears of Death, which alarm'd him on all sides, deterr him from this new A­mour: Which because it has Re­lation to some part of his Adven­tures, I cannot omit, especially to your Lordship, his Friend, to whom every Circumstance of that Princes Fate and Fortune will be of Con­cern.

You must imagin, my Lord, that your Seizure and Escape was enough to alarm the whole Party; and there was not a Man of the League who did not think it high time to look about him, when one, so considera­ble as your Lordship, was surpriz'd. [Page 175] Nor did the Prince himself any lon­ger believe himself safe; but retired himself under the darkness of the following Night: He went only ac­companied with his Page, to a La­dies House, a Widow of Quality in Paris, that populous City; being as he conceived, the securest Place to conceal himself in. This Lady was Madam the Countess of—who had, as you know, my Lord, one only Daughter, Madam Osell Her­mione, the Heiress of her Family. The Prince knew this young Lady had a Tenderness for him ever since they were both very young, which first took beginning in a Mask at Court, where she then acted Mer­cury, and danced so exceeding finely, that she gave our young Hero new Desire, if not absolute Love; and charm'd him at least into Wishes. She was then old enough to per­ceive she conquered, as well as to make a Conquest: And she was ca­pable of receiving Impressions, as well [Page 176] as to give 'em: And it was believed by some who were very near the Prince, and knew all his Secrets then, that this young Lady pitied the Sighs of the Royal Lover, and even then rewarded 'em: And tho' this were most credibly whispered, yet me­thinks it seems impossible he should then have been happy, and after so many Years, after the Possession of so many other Beauties, should re­turn to her again, and find all the Passions and Pains of a beginning Flame. But there is nothing to be wondered at in the Contradictions and Humours of Man's human Na­ture. But however inconstant and wavering he had been, Hermione retain'd her first Passion for him; and that I less wonder at, since you know the Prince has the most charming Person in the World, and is the most perfectly Beautiful of all his Sex: To this his Youth and Quality adds no little Lustre; and I should not wonder if all the softer Sex should [Page 177] languish for him, nor that any one should love on—who hath once been touch'd with Love for him. 'Twas this last Assurance the Prince so absolutely depended on, that (not­withstanding she was far from the Opinion of his Party) made him re­solve to take Sanctuary in those Arms he was sure would receive him in any Condition and Circumstances. But now he makes her new Vows, which possibly at first his Safety obliged him to, while she return'd 'em with all the Passion of Love. He made a thousand Submissions to Madam the Countess, who he knew was fond of her Daughter to that degree, that for her Repose she was even willing to behold the Sacrifice of her. Ho­nour to this Prince, whom she knew Hermione loved even to Death; so fond, so blindly fond is Nature▪ And indeed after a little time that he lay there conceal'd, he reap'd all the Satisfaction that Love could give him, or his Youth could wish, with [Page 178] all the Freedom imaginable. He only made Vows of renouncing all other Women, what Ties or Obli­gations soever he had upon him; and to resign himself intirely up to Hermione. I know not what new Charms he had found by frequent Conversation with her, and being uninterrupted by the sight of any other Ladies; but 'tis most certain, my Lord, he grew to that excess of Love, or rather Doatage (if Love in one so young, can be call'd so) that he languishes for her, even while he possessed her all: He dy'd, if ob­lig'd by Company to retire from her an Hour, at the end of which, being again brought to her, he would fall at her Feet, and sigh, and weep, and make the most pitious Moan that ever Love inspir'd. He would com­plain upon the Cruelty of a Moments Absence, and vow he could not live where she was not. All that distur­bed his Happiness, he reproach'd as Enemies to his Repose, and at last [Page 179] made her feign an Illness, that no Visits might be made her, and that he might possess all her Hours. Nor did Hermione perceive all this with­out making her Advantages of so glorious an Opportunity; but with the usual Cunning of her Sex, impro­ved every Minute she gave him: She now found herself sure of the Heart of the finest Man in the World; and of one she believed would prove the greatest, being the Head of a most powerful Faction, who were resolved the first Opportunity to or­der Affairs so as to come to an o­pen Rebellion, and to make him a King. All these things, how un­likely soever in Reason, her Love and Ambition suggested to her; so that she believed she had but one Game more to play to establish her­self the greatest and most happy Woman in the World. She con­sults in this weighty Affair with her Mother, who had a share of Cun­ning that could carry on a Design [Page 180] as well as any of her Sex. They found but one Obstacle to all Her­mione's rising Greatness; and that was the Prince's being married; and that to a Lady of so considerable Birth and Fortune, so eminent for her Vertue, and all Perfections of Woman-kind; and withal so excel­lent for Wit and Beauty, that 'twas impossible to find any Cause of a Separation between 'em. So that finding it improbable to remove that Lett to her Glories, she grew very Melancholy; which was soon percei­ved by the too Amorous Prince, who pleads, and sighs, and weeps on her Bosom Day and Night to find the Cause: But she, who found she had a difficult Game to play, and that she had need of all her little Aids, pretends a thousand little frivillous Reasons before she discovers the true one; which serv'd but to oblige him to ask anew, as she design'd he should —At last, one Morning, finding him in the softest fit in the World, [Page 181] and ready to give her whatever she could ask in return for the Secret of her Disquiet, she told him with a Sigh, how Unhappy she was in lo­ving so violently a Man who could never be any thing to her more than the Robber of her Honour: And at last with abundance of Sighs and Tears bewail'd his Marriage— He taking her with all the Joy imaginable in his Arms, thank'd her for speaking of the only thing he had a thousand times been going to of­fer to her, but durst not for fear she should Reproach him. He told her he look'd upon himself as married to no Woman but herself, to whom, by a thousand solemn Vows he had contracted himself, and that he would never own any other while he liv'd, let Fortune do what she pleas'd with him. Hermione thriving hitherto so well, urged his easy Heart yet far­ther, and told him, Tho' she had left no Doubt remaining in her of his Love and Vertue, no suspicion of [Page 182] his Vows, yet the World would still esteem the Princess his Wife, and herself only as a Prostitute to his Youthful Pleasure; and as she con­ceiv'd her Birth and Fortune not to be much inferior to that of the Prin­cess, she should die with Indignati­on and Shame, to bear all the Re­proach of his Wantonness, while his now Wife would live esteem'd and pitied as an injured Innocent. To all which he reply'd, as mad in Love, That the Princess, he confess'd, was a Lady to whom he had Obligations, but that he esteem'd her no more his Wife, since he was married to her at the Age of twelve Years; an Age wherein he was not capacitated to chuse Good or Evil, or to answer for himself, or his Inclinations: And tho' she were a Lady of absolute Vertue, of Youth, Wit and Beauty; yet Fate had so ordain'd it, that he had reserv'd his Heart to this Mo­ment intirely for herself; and that he renounc'd all Pretenders to him ex­cept [Page 183] herself; that he had now pos­sess'd the Princess for the space of twenty Years; that Youth had a long Race to run, and could not take up at those Years with one single Beauty: That hitherto Ravage and Destruction of Hearts had been his Province and Glory, and that he thought he had never lost time but when he was a little while Con­stant: But now he was fix'd to all he would ever possess whilst he had Breath; and that she was both his Mistress and his Wife; his eternal Happiness, and the end of all his Loving. 'Tis there he said he would remain as in his first state of Inno­cence: That hitherto his Ambition had been above his Passion, but that now his Heart was so intirely sub­du'd to this fair Charmer (for so he call'd and thought her) that he could be content to live and die in the Glory of being hers alone, without wishing for Liberty or Empire, but to render her more Glorious. A thou­sand [Page 184] things tender and fond he said to this purpose, and the result of all ended in most solemn Vows, That if ever Fortune favoured him with a Crown, he would fix it on her Head, and make her in spight of all former Ties and Obligations Queen of France. This was sufficient to ap­pease her Sighs and Tears, and she remain'd intirely satisfied of his Vows, which were exchanged be­fore Madam the Countess, and con­firm'd by all the binding Obligati­ons Love on his side could invent, and Ambition and Subtilty on hers. When I came at any time to visit him, which by stealth a-nights I some­times did, to take Orders from him how I should act in all things (tho' I lay conceal'd like himself) he would tell me all that had passed between him and Hermione. I suppose, not so much for the reposing the Secret in my Breast, as out of a fond Pleasure to be relating Passages of his Doa­ [...]age, and repeating her Name, which [Page 185] was ever in his Mouth: I saw she had reduc'd him to a great degree of Slavery, and could not look tamely on while a Hero so young, so gay, so great, and so hopeful, lay idling away his precious Time, without do­ing any thing, either in order for his own Safety or Ambition. 'Twas, my Lord, a great pity to see how his noble Resolution was changed, and how he was perfectly effeminated in­to soft Woman. I indeavoured at last to rouse him from this Lethargy of Love; and argued with him the lit­tle Reason, that in my Opinion he had to be so charm'd. I told him Her­mione, of all the Beauties of France, was esteemed one of the meanest, and that if ever she had gain'd a Con­quest (as many she was infamously fam'd for) it was purely the force of her Youth and Quality; but that now that Bloom [...] was past, and she was one of those, which in less quality, we call'd Old. At these Reproaches of his Judgment, I of­ten [Page 186] perceiv'd him to blush, but more with Anger than Shame. Yet be­cause, according to the Vogue of the Town, he found there was Reason in what I said, and which he could only contradict by saying however she was, she appeared all otherwise to him: He blam'd me a little kind­ly for my hard Words against her, and began to swear to me he thought her all over Charm. He vow'd there was absolute Fascination in her Eyes and Tongue. 'Tis confess'd, said he, she has not much of Youth, nor of that which we agree to call Beau­ty; but she has a Grace so Masculine, an Air so Ravishing, a Wit and Hu­mour so absolutely made to charm, that they all together sufficiently recompense for her want of Delicacy in Complexi­on and Feature: And in a word, my Tomaso, cry's he▪ imbracing me; she is, tho' I know not what, or how, a Maid that compels me to adore her; she has a natural Power to please a­bove the rest of her dull Sex; and I [Page 187] can abate her a Face and Shape, and yet vie her for Beauty with any of the celebrated ones of France.

I found by the manner of his say­ing this, that he was really charm'd, and past all Retrieve; bewitch'd to this Lady. I found it vain therefore to press him to a Separation, or to les­sen his Passion; but on the contrary told him there was a time for all things; if Fate had so ordain'd it that he must love. But I besought him with all the Eloquence of per­fect Duty and Friendship not to suf­fer his Passion to surmount his Am­bition and his Reason, so far as to neglect his Interest and Safety; and for a little Pleasure with a Woman, suffer all his Friends to perish that had woven their Fortunes with his, and must stand or fall as he thriv'd: I implor'd him not to cast away the Good Cause which was so far ad­vanc'd, and that yet, notwithstand­ing this Discourse, might all be re­trieved by his Conduct and good [Page 188] Management. That I knew, how­ever the King appeared in outward shew to be offended, that it was yet in his Power to calm the greatest Tempest this Discovery had raised▪ That 'twas but casting himself at his Majesty's Feet, and begging his Mercy, by a Confession of the Truth of some part of the Matter; and that it was impossible he could fail of a Pardon from so indulgent a Monarch as he had offended: That there was no Action could wholly raze out of the Kings Heart that Ten­derness and Passion he had ever ex­pressed towards him; and his Peace might be made with all the Faci­lity imaginable. To this he urged a very great Reluctancy, and cry'd he would sooner die, than by a Confession expose the Lives of his Friends, and let the World see their whole Design before they had pow­er to eff [...]ct it: And not only so, but put it past all their Industry ever to bring so hopeful a Plot about again. [Page 189] At this I smil'd, and asking his High­ness Pardon, told him I was of ano­ther Opinion, as most of the Heads of the Hugonots were, That what he said to his Majesty in Private could never possibly be made Pub­lick: That his Majesty would con­tent himself with the Knowledge of the Truth, without caring to satisfy the World, so greatly to the Preju­dice of a Prince of the Blood, and a Man so very dear to him as him­self: He urg'd the Fears this would give those of the Reformed Religi­on, and alarm 'em with a thou­sand Apprehensions, that it would discover every Man of 'em, by un­raveling the Intrigue. To this I re­ply'd, That their Fears would be ve­ry short liv'd; for as soon as he had by his Submission and Confes­sion gained his Pardon, he had no more to do but to renounce all he had said, leave the Court, and put himself into the Protection of his Friends, who were ready to receive [Page 190] him. That he need but appear a­broad a little time, and he would see himself address'd to again by all of the Hugonot Party, who would quickly put him into a Condition of fearing nothing.

My Councel, with the same Per­swasion from all of Quality of the Party, who came to see him, was at last approved of by him, and he be­gan to say a thousand things to as­sure me of his Fidelity to his Friends and the Faction, which he vow'd never to forsake for any other In­terest, but to stand or fall in its De­fence; and that he was resolved to be a King or Nothing; and that he would put in Practice all the Arts and Stratagems of Cunning, as well as Force, to attain to this Glorious End, however crooked and indirect they might appear to Fools. How­ever he conceived the first necessary Step to this, was the getting his Par­don, to gain a little time to manage things anew, to the best Advantage: [Page 191] That at present all things were at a stand without Life or Motion, wanting the sight of himself who was the very Life and Soul of Mo­tion; the Axel-tree that could turn the Wheel of Fortune round again.

And now he had talk'd himself into Sense again; he cry'd— Oh my Tomaso! I long to be in Action, my Soul is on the Wing, and ready to take its Flight through any Hazzard. —But sighing, on a suddain a­gain he cry'd: But oh my Friend, my Wings are impt by Love, I cannot mount the Regions of the Air and thence survey the World; but still as I would rise to mightier Glory, they [...]ag to humble Love, and fix me there. Here I am charm'd to lazy soft Re­pose, here 'tis I smile and play, and love away▪ my Hours: But I will rouse, I will, my dear Tomaso; nor shall the winged Boy hold me inslav'd: Belive me Friend he shall not— He sent me away pleased with this, and I left him to his Repose.

[Page 192] Supper being ready to come up­on the Table, tho' Philander were impatient to hear the Story out, yet he would not press Tomaso, till af­ter Supper; in which time they dis­coursed of nothing but the Miracle of Cesario's Love to Hermion [...]. He could not but wonder a Prince so young, so amorous, and so gay, should return again, after almost fif­teen Years, to an old Mistress; and who had never been in her Youth a celebrated Beauty: One, whom it was imagined, the King, and several after him at Court, had made a Gal­lantry with—On this he paused for some time, and reflected on his Passion for Silvia; and this fantastick Intrigue of the Prince's inspired him with a kind of Curiosity to try, whether fleeting Love would car­ry him back again to this abando­ned Maid. In these Thoughts, and such Discourse, they passed away the time during Supper; which ended, and a fresh Bottle brought to the [Page 193] Table, with a new Command that none should interrupt 'em: The im­patient Philander obliged Tomaso to give him a farther Account of the Princes Proceedings; which he did in this manner:

My Lord, having left my Prince, as I imagined, very well resolved, I spoke of it to as many of our Par­ty as I could conveniently meet with, to prepare 'em for the Discovery I believed the Prince would pretend to make, that they should not by be­ing alarm'd at the first News of it, put themselves into Fears that might indeed discover 'em: Nor would I suffer Cesario to rest, but daily saw him, or rather nightly stole to him, to keep up his Resolution: And indeed, in spight of Love, to which he had made himself so intire a Slave, I brought him to his own House, to visit Madam his Wife, who was very well at Court, mau­gre her Husbands ill Conduct, as they call'd it. The King being, as [Page 194] you know, my Lord, extreamly kind to that deserving Lady, often made her Visits, and would without very great Impatiency hear her plead for her Husband, the Prince; and possi­bly it was not ungrateful to him: All this we daily learn'd from a Page, who secretly brought Intelli­gence from Madam the Princess: So that we conceived it wholly ne­cessary for the Interest of the Prince, that he should live in a good Under­standing with this prudent Lady. To this end he feigned more Re­spect than usual to her, and as soon as it was dark, every Evening made her his Visits. One Evening among the rest, he happened to be there, just as the Proclamation came forth of four thousand Crowns to any that could discover him; and with­in half an Hour after came the King to visit the Princess, as every Night he did; her Lodging being in the Court: The King came without gi­ving any Notice, and with a very [Page 195] slender Train that Night; so that he was almost in the Princess's Bed­chamber before any body inform'd [...]her he was there; so that the Prince had no time to retire but into Madam the Princess's Cabaret, the Door of which, she immediately locking, made such a Noise and Bustle that it was heard by his Majesty, who neverthe­less had passed it by, if her Confusion and Blushes had not farther betray'd her, with the unusual Address she made to the King: Who therefore asked her who she had conceal'd in her Closet. She endeavoured to put him off with some feign'd Replies, but 'twould not do; the more her Confusion, the more the King was inquisitive, and urged her to give him the Key of her Cabaret: But she, who knew the Life of the Prince would be in very great Danger, should he be taken so, and knew on the other side. [...]hat to deny it would betray the Truth as much as his Discovery would, and cause him ei­ther [Page 196] to force the Key or the Door, fell down at his Feet, and wetting his Shooes with her Tears, and grasp­ing his Knees in her trembling Arms, implor'd that Mercy and Pity for the Prince her Husband, whom her Vertue had rendered dear to her, however Criminal he appear'd to his Majesty: She told him his Ma­jesty had more peculiarly the Attri­butes of a God than any other Mo­narch upon Earth, and never heard the Wretched or the Innocent plead in vain. She told him that herself and her Children, who were dearer to her than Life, should all be as Hostages for the good Conduct and Duty of the Prince's future Life and Actions: And they would all be obliged to suffer any Death, tho' never so ignominious, upon the least breaking out of her Lord: That he should utterly abandon those of the reformed Religion, and yield to what Articles his Majesty would graciously be pleased to impose, quitting all his [Page 197] false and unreasonable Pretensions to the Crown, which was only the Effects of the Flattery of the Hu­gonot Party, and the Male-Contents. Thus with the Vertue and Goodness of an Angel, she pleaded with such moving Eloquence, mix'd with Tears, from beautiful Eyes, that she fail'd not to soften the royal Heart, who knew not how to be deaf when Beauty pleaded: Yet he would not seem to yield so suddenly, least it should be imagined he had too light a Sense of his Treasons, which, in any other great Man, would have been punished with no less than Death: Yet, as she pleaded, he grew calmer, and suffered it without In­terruption, till she waited for his Reply; and obliged him by her Si­lence to speak. He numbers up the Obligations he had heaped on her Husband; how he had, by putting all Places of great Command and Interest into his Hands, made him the greatest Prince and Favourite, of [Page 198] a Subject, in the World; and infi­nitely happier than a Monarch: That he had all the Glory and Power of one, and wanted but the Care: All the Sweets of Empire, while all that was disagreeable and toilsom, remain'd with the Title alone. He therefore upbraided him with infi­nite Ingratitude, and want of Ho­nour; with all the Folly of ambi­tious Youth: And left nothing un­said that might make the Princess sensible it was too late to hide any of his Treasons from him, since they were all but too apparent to his Ma­jesty. 'Twas therefore that she ur­ged nothing but his Royal Mercy and Forgiveness, without indeavou­ring to lessen his Guilt, or inlarge on his Innocency. In fine, my Lord, so well she spoke, that at last she had the Joy to perceive the happy Effects of her Wit and Goodness, which had mov'd Tears of Pity and Compassion from his Majesty's Eyes; which was Cesario's Cue to come [Page 199] forth, as immediately he did (ha­ving heard all that had pass'd) and threw himself at his Majesty's Feet: And this was the critical Mi­nute he was to snatch for the gain­ing his Point, and of which he made a most admirable use. He call'd up all the Force of necessary Dissimula­tion, Tenderness to his Voice, Tears to his Eyes, and Trembling to his Hands, that stay'd the too willing and melting Monarch by his Robe, till he had heard him implore, and granted him his Pity: Nor did he quit his Hold, till the King cry'd with a soft Voice—Rise—at which he was assured of what he asked. He refused however to rise, till the Pardon was pronounced. He own'd himself the greatest Criminal in Nature; that he was drawn from his Allegiance by the most subtile Artifices of his Enemies, who un­der false Friendships had allur'd his Hopes with gilded Promises; and which he now too plainly saw were [Page 200] Designs to propagate their own pri­vate Interests, and not his Glory. He humbly besought his Majesty to make some gracious Allowances for his Vanities of Youth, and to be­lieve now he had so dearly bought Discretion, at almost the price of his Majesty's eternal Displeasure, that he would reform, and lead so good a Life, so absolutely from any appearance of Ambition, that his Majesty should see he had not a more faithful Subject than himself. In fine, he found himself, by this Acknowledgment he had begun with, to advance yet farther: Nor would his Majesty be satisfied without the whole Scene of the Matter; and how they were to have surprized and seized him; where, and by what Numbers. All which he was forc'd to give an Account of; since now to have fallen back, when he was in their Hands, had been his infallible Ruine. All which he perform'd with as much [Page 201] Tenderness and Respect to his Friends concern'd, as if his own Life had been depending: And tho' he were extreamly prest to discover some of the great ones of the Party, he would never give his consent to an Action so mean, as to be an E­vidence. All that could be got from him farther, was, to promise his Ma­jesty to give under his Hand, what he had in private confess'd to him; with which the King remained very well satisfy'd, and order'd him to come to Court the next day. Thus for that Night they parted, with infinite Caresses on the King's part, and no little Joy on his. His Ma­jesty was no sooner gone, but he gave immediate order to the Se­cretaries of State, to draw up his Pardon, which was done, with good Speed, that he had it in his own Hands the next day. When he came to Court 'tis not to be imagined the Surprize it was to all to behold the Man, in the greatest State imagi­nable, [Page 202] who but Yesterday was to have been Crucified at any Price: And those, who most exclaim'd a­gainst him, were the first who paid him Homage, and caress'd him at the highest rate; only the most Wise and Judicious, prophesied his Glo­ries were not of a long Continuati­on. The King made no Visits where the Prince did not publickly appear: He told all People, with infinite Joy, that the Prince had confessed the whole Plot, and that he would give it under his Hand and Seal, in order to having it pub­lished thro'out all France, for the Satisfaction of all those who had been deluded and deceived by our specious Pretences; and for the Ter­ror of those, who had any ways ad­hered to so pernicious a Villainy: So that he met with nothing but Re­proaches from those of our own Par­ty at Court: For there were many, who, hitherto were unsuspected, and who now, out of fear of being [Page 203] betray'd by the Prince, were ready to fall at the Kings Feet and con­fess all: Others there were, that left the Court and Town upon it. In fine, the face of things seem'd ex­treamly altered, while the Prince bore himself like a Person who had the Misfortune justly to lie beneath the Exclamations of a disobliged Multitude, as they at least imagined, and bore all, as if their Fears had been true, without so much as of­fering at his Justification, to con­firm his Majesty's good Opinion of him: He added to his Pardon a Pre­sent of twenty thousand Crowns; half of it being paid the next day after his coming to Court. And in short, my Lord, his Majesty grew so fond of the Prince, he could not indure to suffer him out of his Pre­sence; and was never satisfied with seeing him: He carried him the next day to the publick Theatre with him, to show the World he was reconcil'd. But by this time he had [Page 204] all confirm'd, and grew impatient to declare himself to his Friends, whom he would not have remain long in their ill Opinion of him. It happened, the third day of his coming to Court (in returning some of those Visits he had received from all the great Persons.) he went to wait upon the Dutchess of—a Lady who had ever had a tender Respect for the Prince: In the time of this Visit, a young Lady of Quali­ty happen'd to come in; one whom your Lordship knows a great Wit, and much esteemed at Court, Mada­moisell Mariana: By this Lady he found himself welcom'd to Court with all the Demonstrations of Joy; as also by the old Dutchess, who had divers times heretofore perswa­ded the Prince to leave the Hugo­nots, and return to the King and Court: She used to tell him he was a handsome Youth, and she loved his Mother well; that he danc'd finely, and she had rather see him [Page 205] in a Ball at Court, than in Rebellion in the Field; and often to this pur­pose her Love would rally him; and now shew'd no less concern of Joy for his Reconciliation; and look­ing on him, as a true Convert, fell a-railing, with all the Malice and Wit she could invent, at those pub­lick spirited Knaves who had sedu­ced him. She rail'd me, and cursed those Politicks which had betray'd him, to almost Ruine it self. The Prince heard her, with all the Pati­ence he could, for some time, but when he found her touch him so tenderly, and name his Friends, as if he had own'd any such ill Coun­cellors, his Colour came into his Face, and he could not forbear de­fending us with all the Force of Friendship. He told her he knew of no such Seducers, no Villains of the Party, nor of any trayterous De­sign, that either himself, or any Man in France, had ever harboured: At which, she growing to upbraid him, [Page 206] in a manner too passionate, he thought it decent to end his Visit, and left her very abruptly. At his going out he met with the Duke of— Brother to the Dutchess, going to visit her: En passant a very indifferent Ceremony pass'd on both sides, for this Duke never had entertain'd a Friendship, or scarce Respect for Ce­sario; but going into his Sister's, the Dutchess her Chamber, he found her all in a Rage at the Princes so publick Defence of the Hugonots, and their Allies; and the Duke entering, they told him what had pass'd. This was a very great Pleasure to him, who had a mortal Hate at this time to the Prince. He made his Visit very short, hastens to Court, and went directly to the King, and told him how infinitely he found his Ma­jesty mistaken in the imagined Peni­tence of the Prince; and then told him what he had said at the Dut­chess of—Lodgings, and had dis­own'd he ever confess'd any trea­sonable [Page 207] Design against his Majesty, and gave 'em the Lye, who durst charge him with any such Villainy. The King, who was unwilling to credit what he wished not true, plain­ly told the Duke, he could not be­lieve it, but that it was the Malice of his Enemies who had forg'd this; the Duke reply'd, he would bring those to his Majesty, that heard the Words: Immediately thereupon dis­patched away his Page, to begg the Dutchess would come to Court, with Madamoisell Mariana. The Dut­chess suspecting the truth of the Busi­ness, and unwilling to do the Prince an ill Office, excused herself, by send­ing word she was ill of the Colick. But Mariana, who lov'd the King's Interest, and found the Ingratitude, as she call'd it, of the prime, hasted in her Chair to Court, and justified all the Duke had said; who being a Woman of great Wit and Honour, found that Credit which the Duke fail'd of, as an open Enemy to the [Page 208] Prince. About an hour after the Prince appeared at Court, and found the face of Things changed extreamly; and those, who before had kiss'd his Hand, and were proud of every smile from him: Now be­held him with coldness, and scarce made way as he past. However, he went on to the Presence and found the King, whose looks were also ve­ry much changed; who taking him into the Bed-Chamber, show'd him his whole Confession, drawn up ready for him to sign, as he had pro­mis'd, tho' he never intended any such thing; and now resolv'd to die rather than do it: He took it in his Hand, while the King cry'd,— Here keep your Word, and Sign your Narrative.—Stay, Sir, replied the Prince, I have the Council of my Friends to ask first, in so weighty an Affair. The King confirm'd in all he had heard, no longer doubted but he had been too cunning for him; and going out in a very great dis­content, [Page 209] he only cry'd,—Sir, if you have any better Friends than my self, I leave you to 'em;—and with this left him. The Prince was very glad he had got the Confession-Pa­per, hoping it would never come to light again; the King was the only person to whom he had made the Confession, and he was but one Accuser; and him he thought the Party could at any time be too pow­erful to oppose, all being easily be­lieved on their side, and nothing on that of the Court. After this, in the Evening, the King going to vi­sit Madam the Dutchess of—for whom he had a very great Esteem, and whither every Day the whole Court followed him: The Prince, with all the assurance imaginable, made his Court there also; but he was no sooner come into the Presence, but he perceived Anger in the Eyes of that Monarch, who had indeed a peculiar Greatness and Firceness there when Angry: A Minute after he [Page 210] sent Monsieur—to the Prince, with a command to leave the Court; and without much Ceremony he ac­cordingly departed, and went di­rectly to Hermione, who with all the impatience of Love expected him; nor was much surprized to find him Banisht the Court: For he made her acquainted with his most Secret Designs; who having made all his Interests her own, Espoused whatever related to him, and was capable of retaining all with great Fidelity: Nor had he quitted her one Night, since his coming to Court; and he hath often, with rap­ture, told me, Hermione was a Friend as well as a Mistress, and one with whom, when the first Play was end­ed, he could Discourse with of use­ful things of State, as well as Love; and improve in both the Noble My­steries, by her Charming Conversa­tion. The Night of this second Dis­grace, I went to Hermione's to vi­sit him, where we Discours'd what [Page 211] was next to be done. He did not think his Pardon was sufficient to secure him, and he was not willing to trust a King who might be con­vinced, that that Tenderness he had for him, was absolutely against the Peace and Quiet of all France. I was of this Opinion, so that upon farther debate, we thought it abso­lutely necessary to quit France, till the Courts heat should be a little a­bated, and that the King might ima­gine himself, by his absence, in more Tranquillity than he really is. In order to this, he made me take my Flight into Flanders, here to pro­vide all things necessary against his coming, and I received his com­mand to seek you out, and beg you would attend his coming hither. I expect him every Day. He told me at parting he long'd to consult with you how next to play this mighty Game, on which so many Kingdoms are staked, and which he is resolv'd to win or be nothing. An im­perfect [Page 212] Relation, replied Philander, we had of this Affair, but I never could learn by what Artifice the Prince brought about his good Fortune at Court; but of your own Escape, I have heard nothing, pray oblige me with the Relation of it: Sir, said Thomaso, there is so little worthy the trouble you will take in hearing it, that you may spare your self the Curiosity. Sir, reply'd Philander, I alway had too great a share in what concern'd you not to be Curious of the Story. In which, reply'd Thomaso, tho' there be nothing Novel, I will satisfie you.

Be pleas'd to know, my Lord, that about a Week before our design was fully discovered by some of our own under-Rogues, I had taken a great House in Fabour St. Iermins, for my Mistress, whom you know, my Lord, I had liv'd with for the space of a Year. She was gone to drink the Waters of Bourbon, for some in­disposition, and I had promised her [Page 213] all things should be fitted against her return, agreeable to her Humour and Desire; and indeed I spared no cost to make her Apartment Mag­nificent: And I believe few Women of Quality could purchace one so rich; for I lov'd the Young Wo­man, who had Beauty and Discreti­on enough to charm, tho' the Pa­risians of the Royal Party call'd her Nicky Nacky, which was given her in derision to me, not to her, for whom every body, for her own sake, had a considerable Esteem. Besides, my Lord, I had taken up Money out of the Orphans and Widows Bank from the Chamber of Paris, and could very well afford to be La­vish when I spent upon the publick Stock. While I was thus ordering all things, my Vallet came running out of Breath to tell me, that being at the Loovre, he saw several per­sons carried to the Secretaries Office, with Messengers; and that inqui­ring who they might be, he found [Page 214] they were two Parisians, who had offered themselves to the Messengers, to be carryed to be Examined about a Plot, the Prince Cesario and those of the Reformed Religion had to sur­prize his Majesty, kill Monsieur his Brother, and set all Paris in a Flame: And as to what particular­ly related to my self; he said, That I was named as the person design'd to seize upon the King's Guards, and dispatch Monsieur. This my own Conscience told me was too true for me to make any doubt, but I was discovered; I therefore left a Servant in the House, and in an Hackney-Coach took my Flight. I drove a little out of Paris till Night and then returned again, as the su­rest part of the World where I could conceal my self: I was not long in studying who I should trust with my Life and safety, but went directly to the Palace of Madam the Countess of —who you know, my Lord, was a Widow, and a Woman who had [Page 215] for a year past, a most violent Passion for me; but she being a La­dy who had made many such Gal­lantries, and past her Youth, I had had only a very great Respect and Acknowledgment for her and her Quality, and being obliged to her for the Effects of her Tenderness, shown upon several Occasions, I could not but acquit my self like a Ca­valier to her, whenever I could pos­sible; and which, tho' I have a thou­sand times feigned great Business to prevent, yet I could not always be ungrateful; and when I paid her my Services, 'twas ever extreamly well received; and because of her Quality, and seting up for a second Marri­age, she always took care to make my Approaches to her in as conceal'd a manner as possible; and only her Porter, one Page, and one Woman, knew this secret Amour; and for the better carrying it on, I ever went in a Hackney-Coach, least my Livery should be seen at her Gate: And as [Page 216] it was my Custom at other times, so I now sent the Porter (whom, by my Bounty and his Ladies, was in­tirely my own Creature) for the Page, to come to me, who imme­diately did, and I desired him to let his Lady know, I waited her Com­mands; That was the Word: He im­mediately brought me Answer, that by good Fortune his Lady was all alone, and infinitely wishing she knew where to send him for me: and I immediately, at that good News, ran up to her Chamber; where I was no sooner come, but desiring me to sit, she ordered her Porter to be call'd, and gave him Orders, up­on pain of Life, not to tell of my being in the House, whatever En­quiry should be made after me; and having given the same Command to her Page, she dismiss'd 'em, and came to me, with all the Fear and Trembling imaginable. Ah Monsieur, cry'd she, falling on my Neck, we are undone—I not imagining she [Page 217] had heard the News already; cry'd, Why, is my Passion discovered? Ah, reply'd she in Tears, I would to Hea­ven it were no worse! would all the Earth had discovered that, which I should esteem my Glory—But 'tis, my charming Monsieur, continued she, Your Treasons and not Amour, whose discovery will be so fatal to me. At this I seemed amaz'd, and beg'd her to let me understand her: She told me what I have said before; and moreover, That the Council had that very Evening issued out War­rants for me, and she admired how I escaped. After a little Discourse of this kind, I asked her what she would advise me to do? for I was very well assured the violent hate the King had particularly for me, would make him never consent I should live on any terms: And therefore 'twas determined I should not sur­render my self; and she resolved to run the risk of concealing me; which in fine she did Three Days, [Page 218] furnishing me with Money and Ne­cessaries for my Flight. In this time a Proclamation came forth and offered five hundred Crowns for my Head, or to Seize me alive or dead. This Sum so wrought with the sla­vish Minds of Men, that no Art was left unessay'd to take me: They searcht all Houses, all Hackney­Coaches that pass'd by Night; and did all that Avarice could inspire to take me, but all in vain: At last this glorious Sum so dazled the Mind of Madam the Countess's Porter, that he went to a Captain of the Musque­tiers, and assured him, if the King would give him the aforesaid Sum, he would betray me, and bring him the following Night to surprize me without any Resistance: The Cap­tain, who thought, if the Porter should have all the Sum, he should get none; and every one hoping to be the happy Man that should take me and win the Prize, could not indure another should have the Glo­ry [Page 219] of both, and so never told the King of the Offer the Porter had made. But however Secret one may imagine an Amour to be kept, yet in so busie a place as Paris, and the Apartments of the Court Co­quets, this of ours had been dis­coursed, and the Intrigue more than suspected: Whether this, or the Captain before nam'd, imagined to find me at the House of the Countess, because her Porter had made such an Offer; I say, howe­ver it was, the next Morning, upon a Sunday, the Guards broke into se­veral Chambers, and missing me, had the Insolence to come to the Door of that of the Countess; and she had only time to slip on her Night­Gown, and running to the Door, be­sought them to have Respect to her Sex and Quality, while I started from my Bed, which was the same from whence the Countess rose; and not knowing where to hide, or what to do, concealing my Clothes between [Page 220] the Sheets, I mounted from the Ta­ble to a great silver Sconce that was fa [...]tened to the Wall by the Bed-side, and form thence made but one Spring up to the Tester of the Bed; which being one of those, raised with strong wood-work, and Japan, I could easily do; or rather it was by Miracle I did it; and laid myself along on the top, while my Back touched the Cieling of the Cham­ber; by this time, when no Intrea­ties could prevail, they had burst open the Chamber Door, and run­ning directly to the Bed, they could not believe their Eyes: They saw no Person there, but the plain print of two, with the Pillows for two Persons. This gave them the Cu­riosity to search farther, which they did, with their Swords, under the Bed, in every Corner, behind every Curtain, up the Chimney, felt all a­bout the Wains [...]ot and Hangings for false Doors, or Closets; survey'd the Floor for a Trap-door: At last, [Page 221] they found my fringed Gloves in the Window, and the Shash a little up, and then they concluded I had made my Escape out at that Win­dow: This Thought they seem'd confirm'd in, and therefore ran to the Garden, where they thought I had descended, and with my Gloves, which they bore away, as the Tro­phies of their almost gained Victo­ry, they searched every Hedge and Bush, Arbour, Grotto, and Tree; but not being able to find what they [...]ought, they concluded me gone, and told all the Town how very near they were to seizing me. After this, the very Porter and Page be­lieved me escaped out at that Win­dow, and there was no farther Search made after me: But the Countess was amazed, as much as any of the Souldiers, to find which way I had convey'd myself, when I came down and undeceiv'd her; but when she saw from whence I came, she wondered more than before, how I [Page 222] could get up so high; when trying the trick again, I could not do it, if I might have won never so conside­rable a Wager upon it, without pul­ling down the Sconce and the Tea­ster also.

After this, I remain'd there un­discovered the whole time the Prince was at Hermione's, till his coming to Court, when I verily believed he would have gained me my Pardon, with his own; but the King had sworn my final Destruction, if he ever got me in his Power; and pro­claiming me a Traytor, seiz'd all they could find of mine. 'Twas then that I believed it high time to take my Flight; which, as soon as I heard the Prince again in Disgrace, I did, and got safely into Holland, where I have remained about six Weeks. But, oh! what is Woman? The first News I heard, and that was while I remain'd at the Coun­tess's, that my Mistriss, for whom I had taken such Care, and who had [Page 223] professed to love me above all things, no sooner heard I was [...]led and pro­scrib'd, but retiring to a Friends House (for her own was seized for mine) and the Officers imagining me there too, they came to search; and a young Cavalier, of a noble Aspect, great Wit and Courage, and indeed a very fine Gentleman, was the Officer that entered her Cham­ber to search for me; who, being at first sight, surprized with her Beauty, and melted with her Tears, fell most desperately in Love with her, and after hearing how she had lost all her Money, Plate, and Jew­els, and rich Furniture, offered her his Service to retrieve 'em, and did do it; and from one Favour to a­nother, continued so to oblige the fair fickle Creature, that he won, with that and his handsom Mien, a Possession of her Heart, and she yielded in a weeks time to my most mortal Enemy. And the Countess, who, at my going from her, swound­ed, [Page 224] and bathed me all in Tears, making a thousand Vows of Fide­lity, and never to favour Mankind more: This very Woman, Sir, as soon as my Back was turn'd, made new Advances to a young Lord, who, believing her to be none of the most Faithful, would not trust her under Matrimony: He being a Man of no great Fortune, and she a Mistriss of a very considerable one, his standing off on these Terms, in­flames her the more; and I have Advice that she is very much in Love with him, and 'tis believed will do what he desires of her: So that I was no sooner abandoned by For­tune, but fickle Woman followed her Example, and [...]led me too. Thus, my Lord, you have the History of my double Unhappiness: And I am waiting here a Fate which no Hu­man Wit can guess at: The Arri­val of the Prince will give a little Life to our Affair; and I yet have Hope to see him in Paris, at the [Page 225] Head of forty thousand Hugonots, to revenge all the Insolences we have suffered.

After discoursing of several things, and of the Fate of several Perso [...]s, it was Bed-time, and they taking Leave, each Man departed to his Cham­ber.

Philander, while he was undres­sing, being alone with Brilljard, be­gan to discourse of Silvia, and to take some care of letting her know he was arrived at Bruxells; who even yet retained some unaccounta­ble Hope, as Lovers do, of one day being happy with that fair one; and believing he could not be so, with so much Facility, while she was in the Hands of Octavio, as those of Philander, whould never tell his Lord his Sentiments of her Conduct, nor of her Love to Octavio, and those o­ther Passages that had occur'd in Holland: He only cry'd, he believ'd she might be overcome, being left [Page 226] to herself, and by the Merits and good Fashion of Octavio; but would not give his Master an absolute Fear, or any account of Truth; that he might live with her again if possi­ble, as before; and that she might hold herself so obliged to him for his Silence in these Affairs, as might one day render him happy. These were the unweighed Reasons he gave for deluding his Lord into a Kind Opi­nion of the fickle Maid: But ever when he named Silvia, Philander could perceive his Blushes rise, and from 'em, believ'd there was some­thing behind in his Thought, which he had a mind to know: He there­fore pressed him to the last degree, —and cry'd—Come—confess to me, Brilljard, the reason of your Blushes: I know you are a Lover, and I was content to suffer you my Rival, knowing your Respect to me. This, tho' he spoke smiling, raised a grea­ter Confusion in Brilljard's Heart. I own, my Lord, said he, that I have, [Page 227] in spight of that Respect, and all the force of my Soul, had the daring to love her whom you lov'd; but still the consideration of my Obligations to your Lordship surmounted that sawcy Flame, notwithstanding all the Incouragement of your Inconstancy, and the Advan­tage of the Rage it put Silvia in a­gainst you. How, cry'd Philander, does Silvia know then of my Falsness, and is it certain that Octavio has be­tray'd me to her? With that Brill­jard was forc'd to advance, and with a design of some Revenge upon Octa­vio (whom, he hoped, would be challenged by his Lord, where one or both might fall in the Rancoun­ter, and leave him Master of his Hopes) he told him all that had passed between 'em, all but real Pos­session, which he only imagined, but laid the whole Weight on Octavio, making Silvia act but as an incen­sed Woman, purely out of high Re­venge and Resentment of so great an Injury as was done her Love. He f [...]r­ther [Page 228] told [...]im, how in the Extrava­gancy of her Rage she had resolv'd to marry Octavio, and how he pre­vented it by making a publick De­claration she was his Wife already; and for which Octavio procured the States to put him in Prison; but by an Accident that happened to the Uncle of Octavio, for which he was forced to fly, the States released him, when he came to his Lord: How, [...]ry'd Philander, and is the Traytor, Octavio, fled from Holland, and from the reach of my Chastisement? Yes, reply'd Brilljard; and not to hold you longer from the Truth, has forced Sil­via away with him. At this Phi­lander grew into a violent Rage, sometimes against Octavio, for his Treasons against Friendship; some­times he felt the old Flame revive, rais'd and blown by Jealousy, and was raving to imagine any other should posses the lovely Silvia. He now beholds her with all those Charms that first fired him, and [Page 229] thinks, if she be Criminal, 'twas on­ly the Effects of the: greatest Love, which always hurries Women on to the highest Revenges. In vain he seeks to extinguish this returning Flame by the Thought of [...]alista; yet at that Thought he starts like one awakened from a Dream of Ho­nour, to fall asleep again, and dream of Love. Before 'twas Rage and Pride, but now it was Tenderness and Grief, softer Passions, and more insupportable. New Wounds smart most, but old ones are most dange­rous. While he was thus rageing, walking, pausing, and loving, one knock'd at his Chamber-Door. It was Silvia's Page, who had waited all the Evening to speak to him, and could not till now be admitted. Brilljard was just going to tell him he was there before, when he ar­rived now again: Philander was all unbutton'd, his Stockings down, and his Hair under his Cap, when the [...]age, being let in by Brilljard, ran [Page 230] to his Lord, who knew him and imbraced him: And 'twas a pretty while they thus caressed each other, without the Power of speaking; he of asking a Question, and the Boy of delivering his Message; at last he gave him Silvia's Billet; which was thus—

How! cry'd he out, No more Phi­lander's Silvia? By Heaven, I had rather be no more Philander! And at that word, without considering whe­ther he were in order for a Visit or not, he advancing his joyful Voice, cry'd out to the Page; Lead on, my faithful Boy, lead on to Sil­via. In vain Brilljard beseeches him to put himself into a better Equi­page; in vain he urges to him the indecency of making a Visit in that Posture; he thought of nothing but Silvia; however he ran after him with his Hat, Cloak, and Comb, and as he was in the Chair dress'd his Hair, and suffered the Page to conduct him where he pleas'd: Which being to Silvia's Lodgings, [Page 232] he ran up Stairs, and into her Cham­ber, as by Instinct of Love, and found her laid on her Bed, to which he made but one step from the Door; and catching her in his Arms, as he kneeled upon the Carpet, they both remain'd unable to utter any thing but Sighs: And surely Silvia never appear'd more charming; she had for a Month or two liv'd at her Ease, and had besides all the Advantage of fine Dressing, which she had pur­posly put on, in the most tempting Fashion, on purpose to ingage him, or rather, to make him see how fine a Creature his Perfidy had lost him: She first broke Silence, and with a thousand violent Reproaches, seem'd as if she would fain break from those Arms, which she wish'd might be too strong for her Force; while he endeavours to appease her by swear­ing and lying, as Lovers do, pro­testing a thousand times that there was nothing in that History of his Amour with Calista, but Revenge [Page 233] on Octavio, who he knew was ma­king an Interest in her Heart, con­trary to all the Laws of Honour and Friendship (for he had learn'd by the Reproaches of the Lady Ab­bess, that Calista was Sister to Octavio) he has had the daring to confess to me his Passion, said he, for you, and could I do less in Revenge than tell him I had one for his Sister? I knew by the violent Reproaches I ever met with in your Letters, tho' they were not plainly confess'd, that he had play'd me foul, and discover'd my [...]eign'd Intrigue to you; and e­ven this I suffered, to see how far you could be prevail'd with against me. I knew Octavio had Charms of Youth and Wit, and that you had too much the Ascendant over him, to be deny'd any Secret you had a mind to draw from him; I knew your Nature too curious, and your Love too inquisitive, not to press him to a sight of my Letters, which seen, must incense you; and [Page 234] this Tryal I designedly made o [...] your Faith, and as a Return to Octa­vio. Thus he flatters, and she be­lieves, because she has a mind to believe; and thus by degrees he softens the listening Silvia: Swears his Faith with Sighs, and confirms [...] with his Tears, which bedew'd her fair Bosom, as they fell from his bright dissembling Eyes; and yet so well he dissembled, that he scarce knew himself that he did so: And such Effects it wrought on Silvia, that in spight of all her Honour and Vows engaged to Octavio, and horrid Protestations, never to receive again the Fugitive to her Arms, she suffers all he ask's, gives herself up again to Love, and is a second time undone. She regards him as one to whom she had a peculiar Right as the first Lover: She was mar­ried to his Love, to his Heart, and Octavio appeared the intruding Gal­lant, that would, and ought to be content with the Gleanings of the [Page 235] Harvest, Philander should give him the opportunity to take up: And tho', if she had at this very time been put to her sober Choice, which she would have abandoned, it would have been Philander, as not in so good Circumstances at that time to gratify all her Extravagancies of Ex­pence; but she could not indure to think of loosing either: She was for two Reasons covetous of both, and swore Fidelity to both, protest­ing each the only Man; and she was now contriving in her Thoughts how to play the Jilt most Artifi­cially; a Help meet, tho' natural e­nough to her Sex, she had not yet much essay'd, and never to this pur­pose: She knew well she should have need of all her Cunning in this Af­fair, for she had to do with Men of Quality and Honour, and too much Wit to be grosly imposed up­on. She knew Octavio lov'd so well, it would either make her lo [...]e him by Death or resenting Pride, if she [Page 236] should ever be discovered to him to be untrue; and she knew she should lose Philander to some new Mistriss, if he once perceived her false. He asked her a thousand Questions concerning Octavio, and she seem'd to lavish every Secret of her Soul to her Lover; but like a right Woman, so ordered her Dis­course, as all that made for her Ad­vantage, she declared, and all the rest she conceal'd. She told him that those Hopes which her Revenge had made her give Octavio, had obliged him to present her with such and such fine Jewels, such Plate, such Summs; and in fine, made him un­derstand that all her Trophies from the believing Lover, should be laid at his Feet, who had conquered her Heart: And that now, having in­riched herself, she would abandon him wholly to Dispair. This did not so well satisfy Philander, but that he needed some greater Proofs of her Fidelity, fearing all these [Page 237] rich Presents were not for a little Hope alone; and she fail'd not gi­ving what Protestations he desired.

Thus the Night pass'd away, and in the Morning, she knowing he was not very well furnished with Money, gave him the Key of her Cabinet, where she bid him fur­nish himself with all he wanted; which he did, and left her, to go take Orders about his Horses and other Affairs, not so absolutely sa­tisfied of her Vertue, but he fear'd himself put upon, which the Ad­vantage he was likely to reap by the Deceit, made him less consider than he would perhaps otherwise have done. He had all the Night a full Possession of Silvia, and found in the Morning he was not so vio­lently concern'd as he was over­night: It was but a Repetition of what he had been feasted with be­fore; 'twas no new Treat, but like Matrimony, went dully down: And now he found his Heart warm a [Page 238] little more for Calista, with which little Impatience he left Silvia.

That Morning a Lady having sent to Octavio, to give her an Assigna­tion in the Park; tho' he were not curious after Beauty; yet believing there might be something more in it than meerly a Lady, he dress'd himself and went, which was the reason he made not his Visit that Morning, as he used to do, to Sil­via, and so was yet ignorant of her Ingratitude: while she, on the other side, finding herself more possess'd with Vanity than Love; for having gain'd her end as imagined, and got a second Victory over his Heart, in spight of all Calista's Charms, she did not so much consider him as be­fore; nor was he so dear to her as before she believed it possible to get him any more to her Arms; and she found it was Pride and Revenge to Calista, that made her so fond of indearing him, and that she should [Page 239] [...]hereby triumph over that haughty Rival, who pretended to be so sure of the Heart of her Hero: And ha­ving satisfied her Ambition in that Point, she was more pleased than she imagined she should be, and could now return her Thoughts a­gain to Octavio, whose Charms, whose Indearments, and lavish Ob­ligations, came anew to her Me­mory, and made him appear the most agreeable to her Genius and Humour, which now lean'd to In­terest more than Love; and now she fancies she found Philander duller in her Arms than Octavio, that he tasted of Calista, while Octavio was all her own intirely, adoring and ever presenting; two Excellencies, of which Philander now had but part of one. She found Philander now in a Condition to be ever ta­king from her, while Octavio's was still to be giving; which was a great Weight in the Scale of Love, when a fair vain Woman guides the Ba­lance: [Page 240] And now she begins to di­strust all that Philander had said of his Innocence, from what she now remembers she heard from Calista herself, and reproaches her own Weakness for believing: While her penitent Thoughts were thus wan­dering in favour of Octavio, that Lover arriv'd, and approach'd her with all the Joy in his Soul and Eyes that either could express. 'Tis now, my fair Charmer, said he, that I am come to offer you, what alone can make me more worthy of you— And pulling from his Pocket the Writings and Inventories of all his own and his Uncles Estate—See here, said he, what those mighty Pow­ers that favour Love, have done for Silvia? It is not, continued he, the Trifle of a Million of Money (which these amount to) that has pleased me, but because I am now able to lay it without Controul at your Feet. If she were before inclined to receive him well, what was she now, when a [Page 241] million of Money rendered him so charming: She imbrac'd his Neck with her snowy Arms, lays her Cheek to his ravish'd Face, and kiss'd him a thousand Welcomes; so well she knew how to make herself Mistriss of all this vast Fortune: And I suppose he never appear'd so fine as at this Moment. While she thus caressed him, he could not forbear sigh­ing, as if there were yet something behind to compleat his Happiness: For tho' Octavio were extreamly blinded with Love, he had abun­dance of Wit, and a great many Doubts (which were augmented by the Arrival of Philander) and he was too wise and too haughty to be imposed upon, at least as he believed: And yet he had so very good an Opinion of Silvia's Honour and Vows, which she had engaged to him, that he durst hardly name his Fears, when by his Sighs she found them: And willing to leave no Ob­stacle unremov'd that might hinder [Page 242] her possessing this Fortune, she told him; My dear Octavio—I am sen­sible these Sighs proceed from some Fears you have of Philander's being in Bruxells, and consequently that I will see him, as heretofore; but be assured that that false Man shall no more dare to pretend to me; but on the contrary, I will behold him as my mortal Enemy, the Murderer of my Fame and Innocence, and as the most ungrateful and perfidious Man that e­ver liv'd. This she confirm'd with Oaths and Tears, and a thousand indearing Expressions. So that esta­blishing his Heart in a perfect Tran­quillity, and he leaving his Wri­tings and Accounts with her, he told her he was obliged to dine with the Advocates, who had acted for him in Holland, and could not stay to dine with her.

You must know, that as soon as the Noise of old Sebastian, Octavio's Uncle's Death was noised about, and that he was thereupon fled, they [Page 243] seized all the Estates, both that of the Uncle, and that of Octavio, as belonging to him by right of Law; but looking upon him as his Un­cle's Murderer, they were forfeited to the States. This part of ill News Octavio kept from Silvia, but took order that there should be such a Process began in his Name with the States, that might retrieve it; and sent word, if it could not be carried on by Attornies (for he was not, he said, in Health) that ne­vertheless he would come into Hol­land himself. But they being not a­ble to prove by the Witness of any of Octavio's or Sebastian's Servants, that Octavio had any hand in his Death; but, on the contrary, all Circumstances, and the Coroner's Verdict, brought it in as a thing done by Accident, and through his own Fault, they were obliged to release to Octavio all his Fortune, with that of his Uncle, which was this day brought to him, by those he was [Page 244] obliged to dine and make up some Accompts withal: He therefore told her he fear'd he should be absent all that Afternoon; which she was the more pleased at; because, if Phi­lander should return before she had ordered the Method of their Visit, so as not to meet with each other, (which was her only Contrivance now) she should be sure he would not see or be seen by Octavio; who had no sooner taken his Leave, but Philander returns; who being now fully bent upon some Adventure to see Calista if possible, and which In­trigue would take up his whole Time, to excuse his Absence to the jealous Silvia, he feign'd that he was sent to by Cesario, to meet him upon the Frontiers of France, and conduct him into Flanders, and that he should be absent some Days. This was as Silvia could have wished; and after forcing herself to take as kind a Leave of him as she could, whose Head was wholly possess'd [Page 245] with a Million of Gold, she sent him away, both Parties being very well pleased with the Artifices with which they gilted each other. At Philander's going into his Chair, he was seen by the old Count of Cla­rinau, who cur'd perfectly of his Wound, was come thither to seek Philander, in order to take the Re­venge of a Man of Honour, as he call'd it; which in Spanish, is the private Stab, for private Injuries; and indeed, more reasonable than base French Duelling, where the Injured is as likely to suffer as the Injurer: But Clarinau durst not at­tack him by Day-light in the open Street, nor durst he indeed appear in his own Figure in the King of Spain's Dominions, standing already there convicted of the Murder of his first Wife; but in a Disguise came to Bruxells. The Chair with Philander was no sooner gone from the Lodgings, but he inquired of some of the House who lodged [Page 246] there, that that Gentleman came to visit? and they told him, A great Bel­lied Lady, who was a Woman of Quality, and a Stranger: This was sufficient, you may believe, for him to think it Madam the Countess of Clarinau. With this Assurance he re­pairs to his Lodging, which was but hard by, and sets a Footman that attended him, to watch the Return of Philander to those Lodgings, which he believed would not be long: The Footman, who had not seen Philan­der, only asked a Discription of him; he told him he was a pretty tall Man, in black Clothes (for the Court was then in Mourning) with a long black Hair, fine black Eyes, very handsome, and well made: This was enough for the Lad; he thought he should know him from a thou­sand by these Marks and Tokens. A way goes the Footman, and waited till the shuting in of the Evening, and then, runing to his Lord, told him Philander was come to those [Page 247] Lodgings; that he saw him alight out of the Chair, and took perfect Notice of him; that he was sure it was that Philander he look'd for: Clarinau, overjoy'd that his Revenge was at hand, took his Dagger, Sword, and Pistol, and hasted to Silvia's Lodgings, where he found the Chair still waiting, and the Doors all open; he made no more ado, but goes in and ascends the Stairs, and passes on, without any Opposition, to the very Chamber where they sate, Silvia in the Arms of her Lo­ver, not Philander, but Octavio, who being also in black, tall, long brown Hair, and handsome, and by a Sight that might very well deceive; he made no more to do, not doubting but it was Philander and Calista, but steps to him, and offering to stab him, was prevented by his starting at the suddeness of his Approach; however the Dagger did not abso­lutely miss him, but wounded him in the left Arm; but Octavio's Youth, [Page 248] too nimble for Clarinau's Age, snatch­ing at the Dagger as it wounded him, at once prevented the Hurt be­ing much, and return'd a home Blow at Clarinau, so that he fell at Silvia's Feet, whose Shreeks alarm'd the House to their Aid, where they found, by the light of a Candle that was brought, that the Man was not dead, but lay gazing on Octavio, who said to him; Tell me, thou unfortunate Wretch, what miserable Fate brought thee to this place, to disturb the Repose of those who neither know thee, nor had done thee Injury? Ah, Sir, reply'd Clarinau, you have Reason for what you say, and I ask Heaven, that un­known Lady, and your self, a thou­sand Pardons for my Mistake and Crime: Too late I see my Error, pi­ty and forgive me; and let me have a Priest, for I believe I am a dead Man. Octavio was extreamly mov'd with Compassion at these Words, and immediately sent his Page, who was alarm'd up in the Crowd, for [Page 249] a Father and a Surgeon; and he de­clar'd before the rest that he for­gave that Stranger, meaning Octavio, since he had, by a Mistake of his Footman, pull'd on his own Death, and had deserved it: And thereup­on, as well as he could, he told them for whom he had mistaken Octavio, who having injured his Honour, he had vow'd Revenge upon; and that he took the fair Lady, meaning Sil­via, for a faithless Wife of his, who had been the Authoress of all this. Octavio soon divin'd this to be his Brother-in-Law Clarinau, whom yet he had never seen; and stooping down to him, he cry'd; 'Tis I, Sir, that ought to demand a thousand Par­dons of you, for letting the Revenge of Calista's Honour alone so long. Clarinau wondered who he should be that named Calista, and asking him his Name, he told him he was the unhappy Brother to that fair Wa [...] ­ton, whose Story was but too well known to him. This while Cla­rinau [Page 250] viewing his Face, found him the very Picture of that false Char­mer; while Octavio went on and as­sured him, if it were his Unhappi­ness to die, that he would revenge the Honour of him and his Sister on the Betrayer of both. By this time the Surgeon came, who found not his Wound to be mortal, as was fea­red, and ventured to remove him to his own Lodgings, whither Octa­vio would accompany him; and lea­ving Silvia inclin'd, after her Fright, to be repos'd, he took his Leave of her for that Evening, not daring, out of Respect to her, to visit her any more that Night: He was no sooner gone, but Philander, who ne­ver us'd to go without two very good pocket Pistols about him, ha­ving left 'em under his Pillow last Night at Silvia's Lodgings; and be­ing upon Love Adventures, he knew not what Occasion he might have for 'em, return'd back to her Lodg­ings: When he came she was a lit­tle [Page 251] surprized at first to see him, but after reflecting on what Revenge was threatened him, she exposed Octa­vio's Secret to him, and told him the whole Adventure, and how she had got his Writings, which would be all her own, if she might be suffered to manage the fond Believer. But he, whose thought [...] on the Revenge was threaten'd him cry'd out—He has kindly awaken'd me to my Duty by what he threatens; 'tis I that ought to be reveng'd on his Per­sidy of shewing you my Letter's; and to that end, by Heaven, I will defer all the Business in the World to meet him, and pay his Courtesy—If I had injoy'd his Sister, he might suppose I knew her not to be so; and what Man of Wit or Youth would refuse a lovely Woman, that presents a Heart laden with Love, and a Person all o­ver Charms, to his Bosom▪ I were to be esteem'd unworthy the Friendship of a Man of Honour, if I should: But he [...] has basely betray'd me every way, [Page 252] makes Love to my celebrated Mistriss, whom he knows I love, and getting Secrets, unravels 'em to make his Court and his Access the easier. She foresaw the dangerous Consequence of a Quarrel of this nature, and had no sooner blown the Fire (which she did, to the end that Philander should avoid her Lodgings, and all places where he might meet Octavio) but she hinders all her Designs; and fixing him there, he was resolv'd to expect him at the first place he thought most likely to find him in: She indeavoured, by a thousand In­treaties, to get him gone, urging it all for his Safety; but that made him but the more resolv'd; and all she could do could not hinder him from staying Supper, and after that, from going to Bed: So that she was forced to hide a thousand Terrors and Fears by feigned Ca­resses, the sooner to get him to meet Cesario in the Morning, as he said he was to do: And tho' she could [Page 253] not help flattering both while by, yet she ever lov'd the absent best; and now repented a thousand times that she had told him any thing.

Early the next Morning, as was his Custom, Octavio came to inquire of Silvia's Health; and tho' he had oftentimes only inquired and no more (taking Excuse of ill Nights, or Commands that none should come to her till she call'd) and had de­parted satisfied, and came again: Yet now, when he went into Anto­nett's Chamber, he found she was in a great Consternation, and her Looks, and flattering Excuses made him know, there was more than usual in his being to day deny'd; he therefore pressed it the more, and she grew to greater Confusion by his pressing her: At last he demand­ed the Key of her Lady's Chamber, he having, he said, Business of great Importance to communicate to her; she told him she had as great a Rea­son not to deliver it,—That is, [Page 254] said she (fearing she had said too much) my Lady's Commands; and finding no Perswasion would pre­vail, and rather venturing Silvia's eternal Displeasure, than not to be satisfied in the Jealousies she had raised; especially reflecting on Phi­lander's being in Town, he took Antonett in his Arms and forced the Key from her, who was wil­ling to be forced; for she admired Octavio's Bounty, and car'd not for Philander. Octavio being Master of the Key, flies to Silvia's Door like Lightening, or a jealous Lo­ver, mad to discover, what seen, would kill him: He opens the Chamber-door, and goes softly to the Bed-side, as if he now fear'd to find what he sought, and wished to Heaven he might be mistaken; he opened the Curtains, and found Sil­via sleeping with Philander in her Arms. I need make no Discripti­on of his Confusion and Surprize; the Character I have given of that [Page 255] gallant, honest and generous Lover, is sufficient to make you imagine his Heart, when indeed he could believe his Eyes: Before he thought —he was about to draw his Sword, and run 'em both through, and revenge at once his injured Ho­nour, his Love, and that of his Si­ster; but that little Reason he had left check'd that Barbarity, and he was readier, from his own natural sweetness of Disposition to run him­self upon his own Sword: And there the Christian pleaded—and yet he found his Heart breaking, his whole Body trembling, his Mind all Agony, his Cheeks cold and pale, his Eyes languishing, his Tongue re­fusing to give Utterance to his Pres­sure, and his Leggs to support his Body; and much ado he had to reel into Antonett's Chamber, where he found the Maid dying with Grief for her Concern for him. He was no sooner got to her Bed-side, but he fell dead upon it; while she, who [Page 256] was afraid to alarm her Lady and Philander, least Octavio being found there, had accused her with betray­ing 'em; but shuting the Door close (for yet no body had seen him but herself) she indeavoured all she could to bring him to Life again, and it was a great while before she could do so: As soon as he was re­covered he lay a good while with­out speaking, reflecting on his Fate; but after appearing as if he had as­sum'd all his manly Spirits together, he rose up, and conjured Antonett to say nothing of what had happen'd, and that she should not repent the Service she would do him by it. Antonett, who was his absolute de­voted Slave, promised him all he desired; and he had the Courage to go once again, to confirm himself in the Lewdness of this undone fair one, whose Perjuries had rendered her even odious now to him, and he beheld her with Scorn and Dis­dain: And that she might know [Page 257] how indifferently he did so (when she should come to know it) he took Philander's Sword, that lay on her Toylet, and left his own in the place, and went out pleased; at least in this, that he had commanded his Passion in the midst of the most powerful Occasion for Madness and Revenge that ever was.

They lay, thus secur'd in each o­thers Arms, till nine a-Clock in the Morning, when Philander received a Note from Brilljard, who was ma­naging his Lords Design of getting a Billet delivered to Calista by the way of a Nun, whom Brilljard had made some Address to to that end, and sent to beg, his Lord would come to the Grate and speak to the young Nun, who had undertaken for any innocent Message. This Note made him rise and hast to go out, when he received another from an un­known Hand; which was thus:

Silvia, who was impatient to have him gone, never asked to see either of these Notes, least it should have deterr'd him; and she knew Octavio would visit her early, tho' she knew withal she could refuse him Ente­rance with any slight Excuse, so good an Opinion he had of her Ver­tue, and so absolute an Ascendant she had over him.—She had gi­ven Orders, if he came, to be refu­sed her Chamber; and she was glad to know he had not yet been at her Lodgings. A hundred times she was about to make use of the les­sen'd [Page 259] Love Philander had for her, and to have proposed to him the suffering Octavio to share her Em­braces for so good an Interest, since no Returns could be had from France, nor any Signs of an A­mendment of their Fortunes any o­ther way: But still she fear'd he had too much Honour to permit such a Cheat in Love, to be put e­ven upon an Enemy. This Fear deferred her speaking of it, or offe­ring to sacrifice Octavio as a Cully to their Interest, tho' she wished it; nor knew she long how to deceive both; the Business was to put Phi­lander off handsomly, if possible, since she fail'd of all other Hopes. These were her Thoughts while Philander was dressing, and rais'd by his asking for some more Pistols from her Cabi­net, which she found would quickly be at an end, if one Lover deminish­ed daily, and the other was hindered from increasing: But Philander was no sooner dress'd but he left her to [Page 260] her Repose; and Octavio (who had a Grison attending the Motions of Philander all that Morning, [...] had brought him word he was gone from Silvia) went to visit her, and entered her Chamber, all changed from what he was before, and Death sate in his Face and Eyes, maugre all his Resolves and art of Dissemb­ling. She not at first perceiving it as she lay, she stretch'd out her Arms to receive him with her won­ted Caresses, but he gently put her off, and sighing cry'd—No Silvia, I leave those Ioys for happier Lo­vers. She was a little surpriz'd at that—but not imagining he had known her Guilt, reply'd; Then those Caresses were only meant for him; for if Silvia could make him hap­py, he was sure of being the Man; and by force compell'd him to suffer her Kisses and Imbraces, while his Heart was bursting, without any sense of the Pleasure of her Touches. Ah Silvia, says he,—I can never [Page 261] think myself Secure or Happy while Philander is so near you; every ab­sent Moment alarms me with ten thou­sand Fears; in Sleep I dream thou [...]art false, and gives thy Honour up all my absent Nights, and all day thy Vows: And that he was sure, should she again suffer herself to see Philander, he should be abandoned; and perhaps she again undone. For since I parted with you, continued he, I heard from Clarinau, that he saw Philander yesterday come out of your Lodgings. How can I bear this, when you have vow'd, not to see him, with Imprecations that must damn thee, Sil­via, without severe Repentance?— At this she offered to swear again, —but he stop'd her, and begg'd her not to swear till she had well considered; then she confess'd he made her a Visit, but that she us'd him with that Pride and Scorn that if he were a Man of Honour, he could never bear; and she was sure he would trouble her no more: In [Page 262] fine, she flattered, fawn'd, and gilted so, as no Woman common in the Trade of sinful Love, could be so great a Mistriss of the Art. He suffered her to go on in all that could confirm him she thought him an errant Coxcomb; and all that could render her the most contemp­tible of her Sex. He was pleas'd, because it made him dispise her; and that was easier than adoring her; yet tho' he heard her with Scorn, he heard her with too much Love. When she was even Breath­less with eager Protestation—he cry'd, Ah Indiscreet and Vnadvised Silvia, how I pity thee. Ah, said she—observing him speak this with a scornful Smile—is it pos­sible you should indeed be offended for a simple Visit! which neither was by my Invitation or Wish: Can you be angry if I treat Philander with the Civility of a Brother? Or rather, that I suffer him to see me to receive my Reproaches?—Stop here, said he, [Page 263] thou fair deluding Flatterer, or thou art for ever ruin'd. Do not charge thy Soul yet farther;—do not delude me on—all yet I can forgive, as I am dying, but should I live, I could not promise thee. Add not new Crimes by cozening me anew, for I shall find out Truth, tho' it lie hid even in the bottom of Philander's Heart. This he spoke with an Air of Fierceness—which seeing her grow pale upon, he sunk again to Compassion, and in a soft Voice cry'd—Whatever Injuries thou hast done thy Honour, thy Word, and Faith to me, and my poor Heart, I can perhaps forgive when you dare utter Truth: There is some Honesty in that— She once more embra­cing him, fell a-new to protesting her ill Treatment of Philander, how she gave him back his Vows, and assur'd him she would never be re­concil'd to him. And did you part [...]o Silvia? reply'd the dying Octavio. Vpon my Honour, said she, just so. [Page 264] —Did you not kiss at parting? said he faintly,—Iust kiss'd, as Friends, no more, by all thy Love. At this he bursts into Tears, and cry'd—Oh! why, when I repos'd my Heart with thee, and lavished out my very Soul in Love, could I not me­rit this poor Recompence, of being fair­ly dealt with? Behold this Sword— I took it from your Toylet; view it, it is Philander's; myself this Morn­ing took it from your Table: No more—since you may guess the fa­tal rest: I am undone, and I am sa­tisfied. —I had a thousand Warnings of my Fate, but still the Beauty charm­ed, and too good Nature yielded: Oft you have cozen'd me, and oft I saw it, and still Love made me willing to forgive; the foolish Passion hung upon my Soul, and sooth'd me into Peace. Silvia, quite confounded, (not so much with the Knowledge he had of the unlucky Adventure, as at her so earnest denying and for­swearing any Love had pass'd be­tween [Page 265] 'em) lay still to consider how to retrieve this lost Game, and gave him leisure to go on.—Now, said he, thou art silent—would thou had'st still been so: Ah hapless Maid, who hast this Fate attending thee, To ruin all that love thee! Be dumb, be dumb for ever; let the false Charm that dwells upon thy Tongue be ended with my Life: Let it no more undo believing Man; least amongst the Number some one may conquer thee, and deaf to all thy Wit, and blind to Beauty, in some mad Passion think of all thy Cozenings, should fall upon thee and forget thy Sex, and by thy Death revenge the lost Octavio. At these Words he would have rose from her Arms, but she detain'd him, and with a pitious Voice im­plor'd his Pardon; but he calmly reply'd; Yes, Silvia, I will pardon thee, and wish that Heaven may do so; to whom apply thy early Rheto­rick and Penitence, for it can never, never, charm me more: My Fortune, [Page 266] if thou ever want'st Support, to keep thee Chast and Vertuous, shall still be commanded by thee, with that usual Frankness it has hitherto served thee; but for Octavio, he is resolved to go where he will never more be seen by Woman—or hear the name of Love to ought but Heaven.—Farewel— one parting Kiss, and then a long Fare­wel. —As he bow'd to kiss her she caught him fast in her Arms, while a Flood of Tears bathe his Face, nor could he prevent his from mixing with hers: While thus they lay, Philander came into the Room, and finding them so closely intwin'd, he was as much surpriz'd almost as Octavio was before; and drawing his Sword, was about to have kill'd him; but his Honour overcame his Passion; and he would not take him at such Disadvantage, but with the Flat of his Sword striking him on the Back as he lay, he cry'd, Rise Traytor, and turn to thy mortal Ene­my. Octavio, not at all surpriz'd, [Page 267] turn'd his Head, and his Eyes be­dew'd in Tears, towards his Rival. If thou beest an Enemy, said he, thou never could'st have taken me in a bet­ter Humour of dying. Finish, Phi­lander, that Life then, which if you spare, it will possibly never leave thine in Repose; the Injuries you have done me, being too great to be forgiven. And is it thus, reply'd Philander, —thus with my Mistriss, that you would revenge 'em? Is it in the Arms of Silvia that you would repay me the Favours I did your Sister Calista? You have by that Word, said Octa­vio handsomly reproach'd my Sloath. And leaping briskly from the Bed he took out his Sword, and cry'd: Come then,—let us go where we may repair both our Losses, since Ladies Chambers are not fit places to adjust Debts of this nature in. At these Words they both went down Stairs; and 'twas in vain Silvia call'd and cry'd out to conjure them to come back; her Power of Commanding [Page 268] she had in one unlucky Day lost over both those gallant Lovers: And both left her with Pity; to say no worse of the Effect of her ill Con­duct.

Octavio went directly to the Park, to the Place whither he before had challenged Philander, who lost no time but followed him: As soon as he was come to the Fountain he drew, and told Philander that was the place whither he invited him in his Billet that Morning; howe­ver, if he liked not the Ground, he was ready to remove to any other: Philander was a little surpriz'd to find that Invitation was a Chal­lenge, and that Octavio should be beforehand with him upon the Score of Revenge; and reply'd; Sir, if the Billet came from you, it was a Fa­vour I thank you for, since it kindly put me in mind of that Revenge I ought so justly to take of you for be­traying the Secrets of Friendship I reposed in you, and making base Ad­vantages [Page 269] of 'em, to recommend your self to a Woman, you knew I lov'd, and who hates you, in spight of all the un­generous ways you have taken to gain her. Sir, reply'd Octavio, I confess with a Blush and infinite Shame the Er­ror with which you accuse me, and have nothing to defend so great a Perfidy. To tell you I was wrought out of it by the greatest Cunning imaginable, and that I must have seen Silvia dy at my Feet if I had refused 'em, is not Ex­cuse enough for the Breach of that Friendship. No, tho' I were exaspe­rated with the Relation there of my Sister's Dishonour; I must therefore adjust that Debt with you as well as I can; and if I dy in the juster Quar­rel of my Sister's Honour, I shall be­lieve it the Vengeance of Heaven upon me for that one Breach of Friendship. Sir, reply'd Philander, you have gi­ven me so great a Satisfaction in this Confession; and have made so good and gallant an Atonement by this Acknowledgment, that 'tis with Re­luctancy [Page 270] I go to punish you for other Injuries, of which I am assured you cannot so well acquit your self. Tho' I would not justify a Baseness, re­ply'd Octavio, for which there ought to be no Excuse; yet I will not accuse myself, or acknowledge other Injuries, but leave you something to maintain the Quarrel on—and render it a lit­tle just on your side; nor go to wipe off the Outrage you pretend I have done your Love, by adoring the fair Per­son who at least has been dear to you, by the Wrongs you have done my Sister. Come, Sir, we shall not by disputing quit Scores, cry'd Philander a little impatiently, what I have so lately seen, has made my Rage too brisk for long Parly. At that they both advanced, and made above twenty Passes before either received any Wound; the first that bled was Octavio, who received a Wound in his Breast, which he returned on Philander; and after that many were given and taken; so that the Track [Page 271] their Feet made in following and advancing as they fought, was marked out by their Blood: In this Condition (still fighting) Silvia (who had call'd 'em back in vain, and only in her Night-Gown in a Chair pursued 'em that Minute they quitted her Chamber) found 'em thus imployed, and without any fear the threw herself between them: Octavio, out of Respect to her, ceased; but Philander, as if he had not re­garded her, would still have been striving for Victory, when she stay'd his Hand, and beg'd him to hear her; he then set the Point of his Sword to the Ground, and breathless and fainting almost, attended what she had to say: She conjur'd him to cease the Quarrel, and told him if Octa­vio had injured him in her Heart, he ought to remember he had in­jured Octavio as much in that of his Sister: She conjured him by all the Friendship both she and him­self had received at Octavio's Hands; [Page 272] and concluded with saying so ma­ny fine things of that Cavalier, that in lieu of appeasing, it but the more exasperated the jealous Phi­lander, who took new Courage with new Breath, and passed at Octavio. She then addressed to Octavio, and cry'd: Hold, oh hold, or make your way through me, for here I will de­fend Vertue and Honour! and put herself before Octavio: She spoke with so pitious a Voice, and plead­ed with so much Tenderness, that Octavio laying his Sword at her Feet, bid her dispose—false as she was, of his Honour. For oh, said he, my Life is already fallen a Victim to your Perjuries! He could say no more, but falling where he had laid his Sword, left Philander master of the Field. By this time some Gen­tlemen that had been walking came up to 'em, and found a Man ly dead, and a Lady imploring another to fly: They look'd on Octavio, and found he had yet Life; and immediately [Page 273] sent for Surgeons, who carried him to his Lodgings, with very little Hope: Philander, as well as his Wounds would give him leave, got into a Chair, telling the Gentlemen that looked on him, he would be responsible for Octavio's Life, if he had the ill Fortune to take it; that his Quarrel was too just to suffer him to fly.—So being car­ried to the Cabarett, with an ab­solute Command to Silvia not to follow him, or visit him: For fear of hurting him by disobeying, she suffered herself to be carried to her Lodgings, where she threw herself on her Bed, and drowned her fair Eyes in a Showre of Tears: She ad­vises with Antonett and her Page what to do in this Extremity; she fears she has by her ill Management lost both her Lovers, and she was in a Condition of needing every Aid. They who knew the excellent Tem­per of Octavio, and knew him to be the most considerable Lover of [Page 274] the two, besought her, as the best Expedient she could have Recourse to, to visit Octavio, who could not but take it kindly; and they did not doubt but she had so absolute a Power over him, that with a very little Complaisance towards him, she would retrieve that Heart her ill Luck had this Morning forfeited; and which, they protested, they knew nothing of, nor how he got into her Chamber. This Advice she took; but because Octavio was carried away dead, she feared (and swounded with the Fear) that he was no longer in the World, or at least, that he would not long be so: However she assum'd her Courage again at the Thought, that, if he did dy, she had an absolute Posses­sion of all his Fortune, which was to her the most considerable part of the Man, or at least, what rendered him so very agreeable to her: How­ever she thought fit to send her Page, which she did in an hour after he [Page 275] was carried home, to see how he did, who brought her word that he was reviv'd to Life, and had command­ed his Gentleman to receive no Mes­sages from her. This was all she could learn, and what put her in­to the greatest Extremity of Grief. She after sent to Philander, and found him much the better of the two, but most infinitely incensed against Silvia: This also added to her Dis­pair; yet since she found she had not a Heart that any Love or loss of Honour, or Fortune could break; but on the contrary, a Rest of Youth and Beauty, that might oblige her, with some Reason, to look forward on new Lovers, if the old must de­part: The next thing she resolv'd, was, to do her utmost Indeavour to retrieve Octavio, which if unattain­able, she would make the best of her Youth. She sent therefore (not­withstanding his Commands to suf­fer none of her People to come and see him) to inquire of his Health; [Page 276] and in four Days (finding he recei­ved other Visits) she dress'd herself, with all the Advantages of her Sex, and in a Chair was carried to his Aunt's, where he lay. The good Lady not knowing but she might be that Person of Quality whom she knew to be extreamly in Love with her Nephew, and who liv'd at the Court of Bruxells, and was Neece to the Governour, carried her to his Chamber, where she left her, as not willing to be a Witness of a Visit, she knew must be supposed Incognito: It was Evening, and Octavio was in Bed, and at the first sight of her his Blood grew disordered in his Veins, flush'd in his pale Face, and burnt all over his Body, and he was near to swounding as he lay: She ap­proach'd his Bed with a Face all set for Languishment, Love and Shame in her Eyes, and Sighs, that with­out speaking seem'd to tell her Grief at his Disaster; she sate, or rather, fell on his Bed, as unable to support [Page 277] the sight of him in that Condition; she in a soft manner seiz'd his burning Hand, grasp'd it and sigh'd, then put it to her Mouth, and suffered a Tear or two to fall upon it; and when she would have spoke she made her Sobs resist her Words; and left nothing unacted that might move the tender Hearted Octavio to that degree of Passion she wished. A hundred times fain he would have spoke, but still his rising Passion choak'd his Words; and still he fea­red they would prove either too soft and kind for the Injuries he had re­ceived, or too rough and cold for so delicate and charming a Creature, and one who, in spight of all those Injuries, he still adored: She ap­pear'd before him with those Attracti­ons that never fail'd to conquer him; with that Submission and Pleading in her modest bashful Eyes, that even gave his the Lye, who had seen her Perfidy. Oh! what should he do to keep that Fire from breaking forth [Page 278] with Violence, which she had so throughly kindled in his Heart; how should that excellent good Nature assume an unwonted Sullenness, on­ly to appear what it could not by Nature be? He was all Soft and Sweet, and if he had had Pride, he knew also how to make his Pleasure; and his Youth lov'd Love above all the other little Vanities that attend it, and was the most proper to it. Fain he would palliate her Crime, and considers in the Condition she was, she could not but have some Ten­derness for Philander; that it was no more than what before past; 'twas no new Lover that came to kindle new Passions, or to approach her with a new Flame; but a Decliner, who came and was received with the Dregs of Love, with all the cold Indifference imaginable: This he would have perswaded himself, but dares not till he hear her speak; and yet fears she should not speak his Sense; and this Fear makes him [Page 279] sighing break Silence, and he cry'd in a soft Tone; Ah! why, too lovely Fair, why do you come to trouble the Repose of my dying Hours? Will you, cruel Maid, pursue me to my Grave, shall I not have one lone Hour to ask Forgiveness of Heaven, for my Sin of loving thee? The greatest that e­ver loaded my Youth—and yet alas, —the least repented yet. Be kind, and trouble not my Solitude; depart with all the Trophies of my Ruine, and if they can add any Glory to thy future Life, boast 'em all over the Vniverse, and tell, what a deluded Youth thou hast undone. Take, take fair Deceiver, all my Industry, my right of Birth, my thriving Parents have been so long a geting to make me happy with; take the useless Tri­fle, and lavish it on Pleasure to make thee gay and fit for luckier Lovers: Take that best part of me, and let this worst alone; 'twas that first won the dear Confession from thee, that drew my Ruin on—for which I hate it [Page 280] —and wish myself born a poor Cottage Boor, where I might never have seen thy tempting Beauty, but liv'd for ever bless'd in Ignorance. At this the Tears ran from his Eyes, with which the soften'd Silvia mix­ed her welcome Stream, and as soon as she could speak, she reply'd (with half Cunning and half Love, for still there was too much of the first mingled with the last) Oh my Octa­vio, to what Extremities are you re­solved to drive a poor Vnfortunate, who, even in the height of Youth, and some small stock of Beauty, am redu­ced to all the Miseries of the Wretch­ed? Far from my noble Parents, lost to Honour, and abandoned by my Friends; a helpless Wanderer in a strange Land, exposed to Want, and perishing, and had no Sanctuary but thyself, thy dear, thy precious self, whom Heaven had sent, in Mercy, to my Aid; and thou at last, by a mista­ken turn of miserable Fate, hast taken that dear Aid away. At this [Page 281] she fell weeping on his panting Bosom; nevertheless he got the Cou­rage to reply once again, before he yielded himself a shameful Victim to her Flattery, and said; Ah cruel Sil­via, is it possible that you can charge the Levity on me! Is it I have taken this poor Aid, as you are pleased to call it, from you? Oh! rather blame your own unhappy Easiness, that after having sworn me Faith and Love, could violate 'em both; both, where there was no need. 'Twould better have become thy Pride and Quality, to have resented Injuries receiv'd, than brought again that scorn'd abandon'd Person (fine as it was, and shining still with Youth) to his forgetful Arms. Alas, said she, I will not justify my hateful Crime; a Crime I loath to think of, it was a Fault beyond a Pro­stitution; there might have po [...]ibly been new Ioy in such a Sin, but here 'twas pall'd and gone—sted to Eter­nity away:—And but for the dear Cause I did commit it, there were no [Page 282] Expiation for my Fault; no penitent Tears could wash away my Crime. Alas, said he,—if there were any Cause, if there be any possible Excuse for such a breach of Love, give it my Heart; make me believe it, and I yet may live; and tho' I cannot think thee Innocent, to be compell'd by any fri­volous Reason, 'twould greatly satisfy my longing Soul. But have a care, do not delude me on—for if thou dost perswade me into Pardon, and to return to all my native Fondness, and then again shoula'st play me fast and loose; by Heaven—by all my sa­cred Passion to thee, by all that Men call Holy, I will pursue thee with my utmost Hate; forsake thee with my Fortune and my Heart, and leave thee wretched to the scorning Crowd. Par­don these rude Expressions of a Love that can hardly forgive the Words it utters: I blush with Shame while I pronounce 'em true. When she reply'd; May all you have pronounced, and all your injured Love can yet invent, fall [Page 283] on me, when I ever more deceive you: believe me now, and but forgive what is past, and trust my Love and Ho­nour for the future. At this she told him, that in the first Visit Phi­lander made her, she using him so reproachfully, and upbraiding him with his Inconstancy, made him un­derstand that he was betray'd by Octavio, and that the whole Intrigue with Calista, confessed by him, was discovered to Silvia: Which, he said, put him into so violent a Rage a­gainst Octavia, that he vow'd that Minute to find him out and kill him. Nor could all the Perswasi­ons of Reason serve to hinder him; so that she (who as she said) lov'd Octavio to Death, finding so powerful an Enemy, as her Fears made her fancy Philander was, ready to have snatch'd from her, in one furious Moment, all she ador'd; she had re­course to all the Flattery of Love to withold him from an Attempt so dangerous: And 'twas with much [Page 284] ado, with all those Aids, that he was obliged to stay; which she had forced him to do, to get time to give him Notice in the Morning for his approaching Danger: Not that she feared Octavio's Life, had Philander attacked it fairly; but he look'd on himself as a Person injured by close private ways, and would take a like Revenge, and have hurt him when he as little dream'd of it, as Philander did of the Discovery he made of his Letter to her. To this she swore, she weep'd, she imbra­ced, and still protested it true; ad­ding withal a thousand Protestations of her future Detestation of him; and that since the worst was past, and that they had fought, and he was come off, tho' with so many Wounds, yet with Life, she was re­solv'd utterly to defy Philander, as the most perfidious of his Sex; and assured him that nothing in the World was so indifferent as she in his Arms. In fine, after having o­mitted [Page 285] nothing that might gain a Credit, and assure him of her Love and Heart, and possess him with a Belief, for the future, of her lasting Vows: He wholly convinc'd and overcome, snatches her in his Arms, and bursting into a Shower of Tears, cry'd—Take,—take all my Soul, thou lovely Charmer of it, and dispose of the Destiny of Octavio. And smothering her with kisses and Im­braces, made a perfect Reconciliati­on. When the Surgeons, who came to visit him, finding him in the dis­order of a Fever, tho' more Joy was triumphing in his Face than before, they imagined this Lady, the fair Person, for whom this Quarrel was; for it had made a great Noise, you may believe; and finding it hurtful for his Wounds, either to be transported with too much Rage, Grief or Love, besought him he would not talk too much, or suffer any Visits that might prejudice his Health: And indeed, with what [Page 286] had been past, he found himself af­ter his Transport very ill and feve­rish, so that Silvia promised the Doctors she would visit him no more in a day or two, tho' she knew not well how to be from him so long; but would content herself with sending her Page to inquire of his Health. To this Octavio made very great Opposition, but his Aunt, and the rest of the Learned, were of Opinion it ought for his Health to be so, and he was obliged to be satisfied with her Absence: At part­ing she came to him, and again be­sought him to believe her Vows to be well, and that she would depart somewhere with him far from Phi­lander, who she knew was obliged to attend the Motions of Cesario at Bruxels, whom again she impreca­ted never to see more. This satis­fied our impatient Lover, and he suffered her to go and leave him to what Rest he could get. She was no sooner got home, and retired to [Page 287] her Chamber, but finding herself a­lone, which now she did not care to be, and being assured she should not see Octavio; instead of trium­p [...]ing for her new gain'd Victory, she sent her Page to inquire again of Philander's Health, and to in­treat that she might visit him: At first, before she sent, she check'd this Thought as base, as against all Ho­nour, and all her Vows and Promi­ses to the brave Octavio; but find­ing an Inclination to it, and pro­posing a Pleasure and Satisfaction in it; she was of a Nature not to lose a Pleasure for a little Punctilio of Honour; and without considering what would be the event of such a Folly, she sent her Page, tho' he had been repulsed before, and for­bid coming with any Messages from his Lady. The Page found no bet­ter Success than hitherto he had done; but being with much Intrea­ty brought to Philander's Cham­ber he found him sitting in his [Page 288] Night-Gown, to whom addressing himself—he had no sooner named his Lady—but Philander did him bee gone, for he would hear nothing from that false Woman: The Boy would have reply'd, but he grew more inraged; and reviling her with all the Railings of incensed Lovers, he put himself into his Closet with­out speaking any more, or suffering any Answer. This Message being delivered to the expecting Lady, put her into a very great Rage— which ended in as deep a Concern: Her great Pride fortified by her Looking-glass, made her highly resent the Affront; and she believed it more to the Glory of her Beauty to have quitted a hundred Lovers than to be abandoned by one. 'Twas this that made her rave and tear, and talk high; and after all, to use her Cunning to retrieve, what it had been most happy for her, should have been for ever lost; and she ought to have blessed the Occasion. But her [Page 289] malicious Star had defign'd other Fortune for her: She writ to him several Letters, that were sent back sealed: She railed, she upbraided, and then fell to Submission. At last he was perswaded to open one, but returned such Answers as gave her no Satisfaction, but incouraged her with a little Hope that she should draw him on to a Reconciliation: Between whiles she fail'd not to send Octavio the kindest impatient Let­ters in the World, and received the softest Replies that the Tongue of Man could utter, for he could not write yet. At last, Philander ha­ving reduced Silvia to the very brink of Dispair, and finding by her pas­sionate Importunity, that he could make his Peace with her on any term of Advantage to himself; re­solved to draw such Articles of [...] ­greement, as should wholly subdue her to him, or to stand it out to the la [...]t: The Conditions were, That he being a Person, by no means, of [Page 290] a Humour to be imposed upon; if he were dear to her, she should give herself intirely to his Possessi­on, and quit the very Conversation of all those he had but an Apper­hension would disturb his Repose▪ That she should remove out of the way of his troublesome Rivals, and suffer herself to be conducted whi­ther he thought good to carry her. These Conditions she liked, all but the going away; she could not tell to what sort of Confinement that might amount. He flies off whol­ly, and denies all Treaty upon her least Scruple, and will not be ask'd the Explanation of what he has pro­posed, so that she bends like a Slave for a little Empire over him; and [...] purchase the Vanity of retaining him, suffers herself to be absolutely undone, She submits; and that ve­ry Day she had leave from the Doct­ors to visit Octavio, and that all ra­vish'd Lover lay panting in expecta­tion of the blessed Sight, believing [Page 291] every Minute an Age; his Apart­ment dressed and perfum'd, and all things ready to receive the Darling of his Soul, Philander came in a Coach and six Horses (and making her pack up all her Jewels and fine Things, and what they could not carry in the Coach put up to come after them) and hurries her to a little Town in Luke-Land, a place be­tween Flanders and Germany, without giving her time to write, or letting her know whither she was going. While she was putting up her things (I know she has since confessed) her Heart trembled, and foreboaded the Ill that was to come; that is, that she was hasting to Ruin; But she had chanced to say so much to him of her Passion, to retrieve him, that she was ashamed to own the Contrary so soon; but suffered that Force upon her Inclinations to do the most dis­honorable and disinteressed thing in the World. She had not been there a Week, and her Trunks of Plate and [Page 292] fine Things were arrived, but she fell in Labour, and was brought to Bed, tho' she show'd very little of her Condition all the time she went. This great Affair being well over, she considers herself a new Woman, and began, or rather continued, to consider the Advantage she had lost in Octavio: She regrets extreamly her Conduct, and from one Degree to another she looks on herself as lost to him; she every day saw what she had decay'd, her Jewels sold one by one, and at last her Necessaries. Philander, whose Head was running on Calista, grudg'd every Moment he was not about that Affair, grew as peevish as shee; she recovers to new Beauty, but he grows colder and colder by Possession; Love de­cay'd and ill Humour increased▪ They grew uneasy on both sides, and not a Day passed wherein they did not break into open and violent Quarrels, upbraiding each other with those Faults, which both wished [Page 293] that either would again commit, that they might be fairly rid of one another: It grew at last to that height, that they were never well but when they were absent from one another; he making a hundred little Intrigues and Gallantries with all the pretty Women, and those of a­ny Quality in the Town or neigh­bouring Villa's. She saw this with Grief, Shame, and Disdain, and could not tell which way to relieve herself: She was not permitted the Privilege of Visits, unless to some grave Ladies, or to Monasteries; a Man was a Rarety she had hard­ly seen in two Months, which was the time she had been there; so that she had leasure to think of her Fol­ly bemoan the Effects of her In­justice, and contrive, if she could, to remedy her disagreeable Life, which now was reduced, not only to scurrilous Quarrels, and hard Words; but often in her Fury, she flying upon him, and with the Cou­rage, [Page 294] or Indiscretion of her Sex, would provoke him to Indecencies, that render Life insupportable on both sides. While they liv'd at this rate, both contriving how handsom­ly to get quit of each other, Brill­jard, who was left in Bruxells, to take care of his Lord's Affairs there, and that as soon as he had heard of Cesario's Arrival, he should come with all speed, and give him notice, thought every Minute an Hour till he could see again the Charmer of his Soul, for whom he suffered com­tinual Fevers of Love. He studies nothing but how first to get her Pardon, and then to compass his Designs of possessing her: He had not seen her, nor durst pretend to it, since she left Holland. He be­lieved she would have the Discreti­on to conceal some of his Faults, least he should discover, in Revenge, some of her's; and fancied she would imagine so of his Conduct: He had met with no Reproaches [Page 295] yet from his Lord, and believed him­self Safe. With this Imagination he omitted nothing that might render him acceptable to her, nor to gain any Secret he believed might be of use to him: Knowing therefore that she had not dealt very generously with Octavio, by this Flight with Philander, and believing that that exasperated Lover, would in Re­venge declare any thing to the Pre­judice of the fair Fugitive, he (un­der pretence of throwing himself at his Feet, and asking his Pardon for his ill treating him in Holland) design'd before he went into Luke-Land to pay Octavio a Visit, and according­ly went; he met first with his Page, who being very well acquainted with Brilljard, discoursed with him be­for he carried him to his Lord: He told him, That his Lord that day that Silvia departed, being in impatient Expectation of her, and that she came not according to Ap­pointment, sent him to her Lodg­ings, [Page 296] to know if any Accident had prevented her coming; but that when he came, tho' he had been with her but an Hour before, she was gone away with Philander, never more to return. The Youth, not being able to carry this sad news to his Lord, when he came home, offered at a hundred things to conceal the right; but the impatient Lover would not be so answered, but all inra­ged, commanded him to tell that Truth which he found already but too apparently in his Eyes. The Lad, so commanded, could no longer defer telling him Silvia was gone, and being asked again and again, what he meant, with a Face and Voice, that every Moment altered to dying; the Page assured him she was gone out of Bruxells with Phi­lander, never more to return; which was no sooner told him, but he sunk on the Couch where he lay, and fainted: He farther told him how long it was, and with what Diffi­culty [Page 297] he was recovered to Life; and that after he was so, he refused to speak or see any Visitors; could for a long time be neither perswaded to eat nor sleep, but that he had spoke to no body ever since, and did now believe he could not procure him the Favour he beg'd: That neverthe­less he would go and see what the very Name of any that had but a relation to the Family of Silvia would produce in him, whether a storm of Passion, or a calm of Grief: Either would be better than a Dulness, all silent and sad, in which there was no understanding what he meant by it: Whoever spoke, he only made a short sign, and turn'd away, as much as to say, Speak no more to me: But now, resolv'd to try his Temper, hasted to his Lord, and told him that Brilljard, full of Peni­tence for his past Fault, and Grief, for the ill Condition he heard he was in, was come to pay his humble Re­spects to him and gain his Pardon, [Page 298] before he went to his Lord and Sil­via; without which he had, nor could have any peace of Mind, he being too sensible of the baseness of the Injury he had done him. At the Name of Philander and Silvia, Octavio show'd some signs of listen­ing, but to the rest no regard; and starting from the Bed where he was laid: Ah! what hast thou said, cry'd he? The Page then repeated the Message, and was commanded to bring him up; who, accordingly, with all the signs of Submission, cast himself at his Feet and Mercy; and tho' he were an Enemy, the very thought that he belonged to Silvia made Octavio caress him, as the dear­est of Friends: He kept him with him two or three days, and would not suffer him to stir from him; but all their Discourse was of the faith­less Silvia; of whom, the deceived Lover spoke the softest unheard ten­der things, that ever Passion utter'd: He made the amorous Brilljard [Page 299] weep a hundred times a-day; and e­ver when he would have sooth'd his Heart with Hopes of seeing her, and one day injoying her intirely to himself, he would with so much peace of Mind renounce her, as Brill­jard no longer doubted but he would indeed not more trust her fickle Sex. At last the News arrived that Ce­sario was in Bruxells, and Brillijard was obliged the next Morning to take Horse, and to go to his Lord: And to make himself the more ac­ceptable to Silvia, he humbly be­sought Octavio to write some part of his Resentment to her, that he might oblige her to a Reason for what she had so inhumanly done: This flattered him a little, and he was not long before he was over­come by Brilljard's Intreaties; who, having his Ends in every thing, be­lieved this Letter might contain at least something to asist in his De­sign, by giving him Authority over her by so great a Secret: The [Page 300] next Morning, before he took Horse, he waited on Octavio for his Letter, and promised him an Answer at his Return, which would be in a few days. The Letter was open, and Octavio suffered Brilljard to read it, making him an absolute Confident in his Amour; which having done, he besought him to add one thing more to it; and that was, to beg her to forgive Brilljard, which for his sake he knew she would do: He told him, he was obliged as a good Christian, and a dying Man, one re­solved for Heaven, to do that good Office, and accordingly did. Brill­jard, taking Post immediately, arri­ved to Philander, where he found e­very thing as he wished, all out of Humour, still on the Fret, and ever peevish. He had not seen Silvia, as I said, since she went from Holland, and now knew not which way to approach her: Philander was abroad on some of his usual Gallantries, when Brilljard arrived; and having dis­coursed [Page 301] a while of the Affairs of his Lord and Silvia, he told Antonett he had a great desire to speak with that dissatisfied fair one, assuring her he believed his Visit would be wel­come, from what he had to say to her concerning Octavio: She told him (with infinite Joy) that she did not doubt of his Pardon from her Lady if he brought any News from that gallant injured Man; and in all hast, tho' her Lady saw no body, but refused to rise from her Couch, she ran to her, and besought her to see Brilljard, for he came with a Mes­sage from Octavio, the Person who was the Subject of their Discourse Night and Day, when alone. She immediately sent for Brilljard, who approach'd his Goddess with a tremb­ling Devotion; he kneel'd before her, and humbly besought her Par­don for all that was past: But she, who with the very Thought that he had something to say from Octavio, forgot all but that, and hastily bid [Page 302] him rise, and take all he ask'd and hope for what he wished: In this Transport she imbraced his Head, and kiss'd his Cheek, and took him up. That, Madam, said Brilljard, which your divine Bounty alone has given me, without any Merit in me, I durst not have had the Confidence to have hop'd without my Credential from a nobler Hand.—This, Ma­dam, said he,—And gives her a Letter from Octavio: The dear hand she knew and kiss'd a hundred times as she opened it; and having in­created Brilljard to withdraw for a Moment, that he might not see her Concern at the reading it, she sate her down and found it this.

Silvia, whose Absence and ill Treatment of Octavio, had but ser­ved to raise her Flame to a [...]much [Page 312] greater degree, had no sooner read this Letter, but she suffered herself to be distracted, with all the diffe­rent Passions that possess dispairing Lovers; sometimes raveing, and sometimes sighing and weeping: 'Twas a good while she continued in these Disorders, still thinking on what she had to do next, that might redeem all: Being a little come to herself, she thought good to consult with Brilljard in this Affair, be­tween whom and Octavio she found there was a very good Understand­ing: And resolving absolutely to quit Philander, she no longer had any Scruples or Doubt what Course to take, nor car'd she what Price she paid for a Reconciliation with Octa­vio, if any Price would purchase it: In order to this Resolve, fix'd in her Heart, she sends for Brilljard, whom she careses anew, with all the Fond­ness and Familiarity of a Woman, who was resolv'd to make him her Confident, or rather indeed her next [Page 313] Gallant. I have already said he was very handsome, and very well made, and you may believe he took all the care he could in dressing, which he understood very well: He had a good deal of Wit, and was very well fashion'd and bred:—With all these Accomplishments, and the addition of Love and Youth, he could not be imagined to appear wholly indifferent in the Eyes of any body, tho' hitherto he had in those of Sil­via, whose Heart was doating on Philander; but now, that that Pas­sion was wholly extinguished, and that their eternal Quarrels had made almost a perpetual Separation, she being alone, without the Conversa­tion of Men, which she lov'd, and was used to, and in her Inclination naturally addicted to love, she found Brilljard more agreeable than he used to be; which together with he Designs she had upon him, made her take such a Freedom with him, as wholly transported this almost [Page 314] hopeless Lover: She discourses with him concerning Octavio and his Con­dition, and he failed not to answer, so as to please her, right or wrong; she tells him how uneasy she was with Philander, who every day grew more and more insupportable to her; she tells him she had a ve­ry great Inclination for Octavio, and more for his Fortune, that was a­ble to support her, than his Person; she knew she had a great Power o­ver him, and however it might seem now to be diminished by her unlucky Flight with Philander, she doubted not but to reduce him to all that Love he once profess'd to her, by telling him she was forc'd away, and without her Knowledge, being carried only to take the Air, was compell'd to the fatal Place where she now was. Brilljard sooths and flatters her in all her Hope, and offers her his Service in her Flight, which he might easily assist, unknown to Philander. It was now about fix [Page 315] a Clock at Night, and she com­manded a Supper to be provided and brought to her Chamber, where Brilljard and she supp'd together, and talk'd of nothing but the new Design; the hope of effecting which put her into so good Humour, that she frankly drank her Bottle, and show'd more signs of Mirth than she had done in many Months be­fore: In this good Humour Brill­jard look'd more amiable than ever, she smiles upon him, she caresses him with all the assurance of Friendship imaginable; she tells him she shall behold him as her dearest Friend, and spoke so many kind things, that he was imbolden'd, and approach'd her by degrees more near; he makes Advances; and the greatest Incou­ragement was, the Secret he had of her intended Flight: He tells her, He hop'd she would be pleased to consider (that while he was serving her in a new Amour, and assisting to render her into the Arms of ano­ther, [Page 316] he was wounding his own Heart which languished for her; that he should not have taken the Presumption to have told her this as such a time as he offered his Life to serve her, but that it was al­ready no Secret to her, and that a Man who lov'd at his rate, and yet would contrive to make his Mistriss happy with another, ought in Justice to receive some Recompence of a Flame so constant and so submis­sive. While he spake he found he was not regarded with the Looks of Scorn or Disdain; he knew her haughty Temper, and finding it calm, he pressed on to new Submis­sions; he fell at her Feet, and pleaded so well, where no Opposers were, that Silvia no longer resisted, or if she did, it was very feebly, and with a sort of Wish, that he would pursue his Boldness yet far­ther; which at last he did, from one degree of Softness and gentle Force to another, and made him­self [Page 317] the happiest Man in the World; tho' she was very much disordered at the Apprehension of what she had suffered from a Man of his Character, as she imagined so infi­nitely below her; but he redoubled his Submissions in so cunning a manner, that he soon brought her to her good Humour; and after that he used the kind Authority of a Husband whenever he had an Opportunity, and found her not dis­pleased at his Services▪ She consi­dered he had a Secret from her, which if reveal'd, would not only prevent her Design, but ruin her for ever; she found too late she had discovered too much to him, to keep him at the Distance of a Servant, and that she had no other way to attach him eternally to her Interest, but by this means. He now every day appear'd more fine, and well dressed, and omitted nothing that might make him, if possible, and absolute Master of her Heart, which he [Page 318] vow'd he would defend with his Life, from even Philander himself; and that he would pretend no other Empire over her, nor presume or pretend to ingross that fair and charming Person which ought to be universally adored. In fine, he fail'd not to please both her Desire and her Vanity, and every day she lo­ved Philander less, who sometimes in two or three together came not home to visit her. At this time it so happened, he being in Love with the young Daughter of an Advo­cate, about a League from his own Lodgings, and he is always eager on the first Address, till he has compleated the Conquest; so that she had not only time to please and revenge herself with Brilljard, but fully to resolve their Affair, and to provide all things against their Flight, which they had absolutely done before Philander's Return; who, coming home, received Brill­jard very kindly, and the News [Page 319] which he brought, and which made him understand, he should not have any long time to finish his new A­mour in; but as he was very Con­quering both in Wit and Beauty, he left not the Village without leaving some Ruins behind of Beauty, which ever after bewail'd his Charms; and since his departure was so necessary, and that in four or five days he was oblig'd to go, they deferr'd their flight till he was gone; which time they had wholly to themselves, and made as good use of it as they could; at least she thought so, and you may be sure, he also, whose Love increas'd with his possession. But Silvia longs for Liberty, and those necessary Gal­lantries, which every day diminish'd; she lov'd rich Cloths, gay Coaches, and to be lavish; and now she was stinted to good Housewifery, a Pe­nury she hated.

The time of Philander's departure being come, he took a very careless leave of Silvia, telling her he would [Page 320] see what Commands the Prince had for him, and return in Ten or Twelve days. Brilljard pretended some little Indisposition, and beg'd he might be permitted to follow him, which was granted, and the next day, tho Brilljard pleaded infinitely for a continuation of his happiness two or three days more, she would not grant it, but oblig'd him, by a thousand kind promises of it for the future, to get Horses ready for her Page, and Woman, and her Coach for her self; which accordingly was done, and they left the Village, whose Name I cannot now call to mind, taking with her what of value she had left. They were three days on their journey; Brilljard under pre­tence of care of her Health, the wea­ther being Hot, and for fear of over­taking Philander by some accident on the Road, delay'd the time as much as was possible, to be as hap­py as he could all the while; and in­deed Silvia was never seen in a Hu­mour [Page 321] more Gay. She found this short time of hope and pleasure, had brought all her banish'd Beauties back, that Care, Sickness and Grief, had extreamly tarnisht, only her Shape was a little more inclining to be Fat, which did not at all however yet im­pare her fineness; and she was in­deed too Charming without, for the deformity of her indiscretion within; but she had broke the bounds of Ho­nour, and now stuck at nothing that might carry on an Interest, which she resolved should be the business of her future life.

She at last arriv'd at Bruxells, and caus'd a Lodging to be taken for her in the remotest part of the Town; as soon as she came she oblig'd Brill­jard to visit Octavio; but going to his Aunt's, to enquire for him, he was told that he was no longer in the World; he stood amaz'd a while, be­lieving he had been dead, when Ma­dam, the Aunt, told him he was re­tir'd to the Monastery of the Order [Page 322] of St. Bernard, and would in a day or two without the Probationary Year, take Holy Orders. This did not so much surprize him as the other, knowing that he discours'd to him, when he saw him last, as if some such retirement he meant to resolve upon; with this News, which he was not altogether displeas'd at, Brill­jard return'd to Silvia, which soon chang'd all her good Humour to Tears and Melancholy: She inquir'd at what place he was, and believ'd she shou'd have power to withdraw him from a resolution so fatal to her, and so contradictive to his Youth and Fortune; and having consulted the matter with Brilljard, he had pro­mised her to go to him, and use all means possible to withdraw him. This resolv'd, she writ a most insi­nuating Letter to him, wherein she excus'd her flight by a surprize of Philander's, and urg'd her condition, as it then was, for the excuse of her long silence; and that as soon as her [Page 323] Health would give her leave, she came to put her self eternally into his Arms; never to depart more from thence. These Arguments and Rea­sons, accompanied with all the i [...] ­dearing tenderness her artful Fancy was capable of framing, she sent, with a full assurance it would pre­vail to perswade him to the World, and her fair Arms again. While she was preparing this to go, Philander, who had heard at his arrival, what made so much noise, that he had been the occasion of the Worlds loss of two of the finest Persons in it, the Sister Calista by Debauching her, and the Brother by Ravishing his Mistriss from him, both which were entring without all possibility of prevention, into Holy Orders. He took so great a Melancholy at it, as made him keep his Chamber for two Days, maugre all the urgent affairs that ought to have invited him from thence; he was consulting by what power to prevent the Misfortune; he now ran [Page 324] back to all the Obligations he had to Octavio, and pardons him all the in­juries he did him; he loves him more by loving Silvia less, and remem­bred how that generous Friend, af­ter he knew he had dishonoured his Sister, had notwithstanding sent him Letters of Credit, to the Majestrates of Cologne, and Bills of Exchange to save him from the Murder of his Bro­ther-in-Law, as was likely to have been. He now charges all his little faults to those of Love, and hearing that old Clarinau was dead of the wound Octavio had given him by mistake, which increased in him new hope of Calista, cou'd she be retriev'd from the Monastery, he resolv'd in order to this to make Octavio a Visit, to beg his Pardon, and beg his Friendship, and his Continu­ation in the World. He came accord­ingly to the Monastery, and was ex­tream civilly received by Octavio, who yet had not the Habit on. Philander told him, he heard he was leaving the [Page 325] World, and could not suffer him to do so, without indeavouring to gain his Pardon of him, for all the inju­ries he had done him; that as to what related to his Sister the Countess, he protested upon his Honour, if he had but imagined she had been so, he wou'd have suffer'd death sooner than his Passion to have approach'd her in­discreetly; and that for Silvia, if he were assur'd her possession could make him happy, and call him to the World again, he assur'd him he wou'd quit her to him, were she Ten times dearer to him than she was. This he confirm'd with so many pro­testations of Friendship, that Octavio oblig'd to the last degree, believ'd and return'd him this Answer, Sir, I must confess you have found out the on­ly way to disarm me of my resentment against you, if I were not oblig'd by those Vows I am going to take, to pardon and be at peace with all the World. However these Vows cannot hinder me from conserving intirely that Friendship [Page 326] in my Heart, which your good qualities and beauties at first sight ingag'd there, and from esteeming you more than per­haps I ought to do: the Man whom I must yet own my Rival, and the undoer of my Sisters Honour. But Oh—no more of that, a Friend's above a Sister, or a Mistriss. At this he hung down his Eyes and sigh'd—Philander told him he was too much concern'd in him, not to be extreamly afflicted at the resolution he had taken, and besought him to quit a design so in­jurious to his Youth, and the glorious things that Heaven had destin'd him to; he urg'd all that could be said to diswade him, and after all, could not believe he would quit the World at this Age, when it would be sufficient Forty Years hence so to do. Octavio only answer'd with a Smile; but when he saw Philander still persist, he endeavour'd to convince him by speaking, and lifting up his Eyes to Heaven; he Vow'd by all the Holy Powers there, he never would look [Page 327] down to Earth again; nor more con­sider fickle, faithless Beauty; All the Gay Vanities of Youth, said he, for ever I renounce, and leave 'em all to those that find a Pleasure or a Constan­cy in 'em: for the fair faithless Maid, that has undone me, I leave to you the Empire of her Heart; but have a care, said he, (and Sighing laid his Arms about his Neck) for even you with all that stock of Charms, she will at last betray: I wish her well—so well as to repent of all her Wrongs to me— 'Tis all I have to say. What Philan­der could urge, being impossible to prevail with him: And beging his Pardon and Friendship (which was granted by Octavio, and implor'd on his side from Philander) he took a ring of a great value from his Finger, and presented it to Philander, and beg'd him to keep it for his Sake; and to remember him while he did so: They Kist, and Sighing parted.

Philander was no sooner gone, but Brilljard came to wait on Octavio, [Page 328] whom he found at his Devotion, and beg'd his Pardon for disturbing him: He receiv'd him with a very good Grace, and a chearful Countenance, imbracing him, and after some Dis­course of the Condition he was going to reduce himself to, and his Admi­ration, that one so young should think of Devoting himself so early to Heaven, and things of that nature as the time and occasion requir'd, he told him the extream Affliction Sil­via was seiz'd with, at the News of the Resolution he had taken, and deliver'd him her Letter, which he read without any Emotions in his Heart or Face, as at other times us'd to be visible at the very mention of her Name, or approach of her Let­ters. At the finishing of which he on­ly smiling Cry'd; Alass, I pity her, and gave him back the Letter. Brilljard ask'd if he would not please to write her some Answer, or condescend to see her; No, replyed Octavio, I have done with all the gilded Vanities [Page 329] of Life, now I shall think of Silvia but as Some Heavenly thing, fit for Diviner Contemplations, but neverwith the Youthful thoughts of Love. What he should send her now, he said, would have a different Stile to those she us'd to receive from him; it would be Pious Counsel, Grave Advice, unfit for La­dies so Young and Gay as Silvia, and would scarce find a welcome: He wish'd he could convert her from the World— and save her from the dangers that pur­su'd her. To this purpose was all he said of her, and all that could be got from him by the earnest Solliciter of Love, who perhaps was glad his Negotiation succeeded no better, and took his leave of him, with a pro­mise to visit him often; which Octa­vio besought him to do, and told him he would take some care, that for the good of Silvia's better part, she should not be reduced by want of Ne­cessaries for her Life, and little Equi­page, to prostitute her self to vile in­constant Man; he yet had so much [Page 330] respect for her—and be sought Brill­jard to come and take care of it with him, and to intreat Silvia to accept of it from him; and if it contribu­ted to her future happiness he should be more pleas'd than to have possest her intirely.

You may imagine how this News pleas'd Silvia; who trembling with fear every Moment, had expected Brilljard's coming, and found no o­ther Benefit by his Negotiation, but she must bear what she cannot a­void; but 'twas rather with the Fu­ry of a Bacchanal, than a Woman of common Sense, and Prudence; all about her pleaded some days in vain, and she hated Brilljard for not doing impossibilities; and it was sometime before he could bring her to per­mit him to speak to her or visit her.

Philander having left Octavio, went immediately to wait on Cesario, who was extreamly pleas'd to meet him there; and they exchang'd their Souls to each other, and all the Secrets of [Page 331] 'em. After they had discours'd of all that they had a mind to hear and know on both sides, Cesario inquir'd of him of Silvia's Health; and Phi­lander gave him an account of the uneasiness of her Temper, and the occasions of their Quarrels, in which Octavio had his part, as being the sub­ject of some of 'em: From this he falls to give a Character of that Ri­val, and came to this part of it, where he had put himself into the Orders of the Bernardines, resolving to leave the World, and all its Charms and Temptations. As they were speak­ing, some Gentlemen, who came to make their Court to the Prince, find­ing 'em speaking of Octavio, told them that to morrow he was to be initiated, without the Years Tryal; the Prince would needs go and see the Ceremony, having heard so much of the Man; and accordingly next day, accompanied with the Gover­nour, Philander, Thomaso, and abun­dance of Persons of Quality and Offi­cers, [Page 332] he went to the great Church; where were present all the Ladies of the Court, and all that were in the Town. The Noise of it was so great, that Silvia, all languishing, and ill as she was, would not be perswaded from going, but so muffl'd in her Hoods, as she was not to be known by any.

Never was any thing so magnifi­cent as this Ceremony, the Church was on no occasion so richly adorn'd; Silvia chanc'd to be seated near the Prince of Michlenburgh, who was then in Bruxells and at the Ceremony; sad as she was, while the soft Musick was playing, she discours'd to him, tho' she knew him not, of the business of the day: He told her she was to see a Sight, that ought to make her Sex less cruel; a Man extreamly Beau­tiful and Young, whose Fortune could command almost all the pleasures of the World; yet for the Love of the most Amiable Creature in the World, who has treated him with Rigor, he [Page 333] abandons this Youth and Beauty to all the Severities of rigid Devotion: This relation, with a great deal he said of Octavio's Vertues and Brave­ry, had like to have discovered her by putting her into a Swoon: and she had much ado to support her self in her Seat. I my self went among the rest to this Ceremony, having in all the time I lived in Flanders, never been so curious to see any such thing: The Order of St. Bernard is one of the neatest of any of 'em, and there is a Monastery of that Order, which are oblig'd to be all Noble Mens Sons; of which I have seen fifteen hundred at a time in one House; all handsome, and most of 'em Young; their Ha­bit adds a Grace to their Person, for of all the Religious, that is the most becoming: Long white Vests of fine Cloth, ty'd about with White Silk Sashes, or Cord of White Silk; over this a long Cloak without a Cape, of the same fine white Broad-Cloth; their Hair of a pretty Length, as that [Page 334] of our Parsons in England, and a White Beaver; they have very fine Apartments, fit for their quality, and above all, every one his Library; They have Attendance and Equipage according to their Rank, and have nothing of the Inconveniences and Slovenliness of some of the Religious, but served in as good order as can be, and they have nothing of the Mo­nastick —but the Name, the Vow of Chastity, and the Opportunity of gaining Heaven, by the sweetest Re­treat in the World, fine House, ex­cellent Air, and delicate Gardens, Grotto's and Groves. 'Twas this Oa­der that Octavio had chosen, as too delicate to undertake the Austerity of any other; and in my opinion 'tis here a Man may hope to become a Saint, sooner than in any other, more perplext with Want, Cold, and all the necessaries of Life, which takes the thought too much from Heaven, and afflicts it with the Cares of this World, with Pain and too much Ab­stinence: [Page 335] and I rather think 'tis Ne­cessity than Choice that makes a Man a Cordelier, that may be a Iesuit or a Bernardine, two the best of the Holy Orders. But to return, 'twas upon a Thursday this Ceremony be­gan; and as I said there was never any thing beheld so fine as the Church that day was, and all the Fathers that officiated at the High-Altar; behind which a most magni­ficent Scene of Glory was opened, with Clouds most rarely and Artifi­cially set off, behind which appear'd new onesmore bright and dazling, till from one degree to another, their lustre was hardly able to be look'd on; and in which sat an hundred little Angels so rarely dress'd, such shining Robes, such Charming Faces, such flowing bright Hair, Crown'd with Roses of White and Red, with such Artificial Wings, as one would have said they had born the Body up in the Splendid Sky: and these, to soft Musick, Tun [...] soft Voices with [Page 336] such sweetness of Harmony, that for my part, I confess, I thought my self no longer on Earth; and sure there is nothing gives us an Idea of real Hea­ven, like a Church all adorn'd with rare Pictures, and the other Orna­ments of it, with what ever can Charm the Eyes; and Musick, and Voices to Ravish the Ear; both which inspire the Soul with unresistable Devotion; and I can Swear for my own part, in those Moments a thou­sand times I have wish'd to Die; so absolutely I have forgot the World, and all its Vanities, and fixt my thoughts on Heaven. While this Mu­sick continued, and the Anthems were Singing, Fifty Boys all in White, bearing Silver Censers, Cast Incense all round, and perfum'd the Place with the richest and most agreeable Smells, while two hundred Silver Lamps were burning about the Al­tar, to give a greater Glory to the open'd Scene, while other Boys strow'd Flowers upon the inlaid [Page 337] Pavement, where the gay Victim was to tread; for no Crowd of Ga­zers fill'd the empty Space, but those that were Spectators, were so placed as rather served to adorn than disorder the awful Ceremony, where all were silent, and as still as Death; as awful as Mourners, that attend the Hearse of some lov'd Monarch. While we were thus listening, the soft Mu­sick playing, and the Angels singing, the whole Fraternity of the Order of St. Bernard, came in, two by two, in very graceful Order; and going up to the shining Altar, whose Furniture, that day, was Embroidered with Diamonds, Pearls, and Stones of great Value; they bow'd and re­tired to their Places, into little gilded Stalls, like our Knights of the Gar­ter at Windsor: After them fifty Boys that sang, approach in order to the Altar, bow'd, and divided on each side; they were dressed in white Cloth of Silver, with golden Wings and rosy Chaplets: After these, the [Page 338] Bishop in his pontifick Robes, set with Diamonds of great Price, and his Mitre richly adorn'd, ascended the Altar; where, after a short An­them, he turn'd to receive the young Devotee, who was just entered the Church, while all Eyes were fixed on him: He was led, or rather, on each side attended, with two young Noble-men, his Relations; and I ne­ver saw any thing more rich in Dress, but that of Octavio exceeded all Imagination, for the gayety and fineness of the Work: It was white Cloth of Silver embroidered with Gold, and Buttons of Diamonds; lin'd with rich Cloth of Gold and Silver Flowers, his Breeches of the same, trim'd with a pale Pinck Gar­niture; rich Linen, and a white Plume in his white Hat: His Hair, which was long and black, was that day in the finest order that could be imagined; but for his Face and Eyes, I am not able to describe the Charms that adorn'd 'em; no Fancy, no [Page 339] Imagination can paint the Beauties there: He look'd indeed as if he were maid for Heaven; no Mortal ever had such Grace: He look'd, methought, as if the Gods of Love had met in Council to dress him up that day for everlasting Conquest; for to his usual Beauties he seem'd to have the Addition of a thousand more; he bore new Lustre in his Face and Eyes, Smiles on his Cheeks, and Dimples on his Lips: He mo­ved, he trode with nobler Moti­ons, as if some supernatural Influ­ence had took a peculiar Care of him: Ten thousand Sighs, from all sides, were sent him, as he passed a­long, which, mix'd with the soft Musick, made such a murmuring as gentle Breezes moving yielding Boughs: I am assured he won that day more Hearts, without De­sign, than ever he had gain'd with all his Toils of Love and Youth before, when Industry as­sisted him to conquer. In his Ap­proach [Page 340] to the Altar, he made three Bows; where, at the Foot o [...] it on the lower Step, kneel'd, and then High-Mass began; in which were all sorts of different Musick, and that so excellent, that wholly ravished with what I saw and heard, I fan­sied myself no longer on Earth, but absolutely ascended up to the Regi­ons of the Sky. All I could see a­round me, all I heard, was ravish­ing and heavenly; the Scene of Glo­ry, and the dazling Altar; the no­ble Paintings, and the numerous Lamps; the Awfulness, the Musick, and the Order, made me conceive myself above the Stars, and I had no part of mortal Thought about me. After the Holy Ceremony was performed, the Bishop turn'd and bless'd him; and while an Anthem was singing, Octavio, who was still kneeling, submitted his Head to the Hands of a Father, who with a pair of Sissors cut off his delicate Hair; at which a soft Murmur of Pity and [Page 341] Grief, fill'd the Place: Those fine Locks, with which Silvia had a thousand time play'd, and wound the Curles about her snowy Finger, she now had the dying Grief, for her Sake, for her Infidelity, to be­hold sacrificed to her Cruelty, and distributed amongst the Ladies, who at any Price would purchase a Curl: After this they took off his Linen, and his Coat, under which he had a white Sattin Wastcoat, and under his Breeches Drawers of the same. Then the Bishop took his Robes, which lay consecrated on the Altar, and put them on, and invested him with the Holy Robe: The Singing continuing to the end of the Cere­mony; where, after an Anthem was sung (while he prostrated himself before the Altar) he arose, and in­stead of the two noble Men that at­tended him to the Altar, two Ber­nardines approach'd and conducted him from it, to the Seats of every one of the Order, whom he kissed, [Page 342] and imbraced, as they came forth to welcome him to the Society. It was with abundance of Tears that every one beheld this Transformation; but Silvia swouned several times du­ring the Ceremony, yet would not suffer herself to be carried out; but Antonett and another young Lady of the House where she lodged, that accompanied her, did what they could to conceal her from the pub­lick View. For my part, I swear I was never so affected in my Life, with any thing, as I was at this Ceremony, nor ever found my Heart so oppressed with Tenderness; and was myself ready to sink where I sate, when he came near me, to be welcom'd by a Father that sate next me: After this he was led by two of the eldest Fathers, to his Apart­ment, and left a thousand sighing Hearts behind him. Had he dy'd, there had not been half that Lamen­tation: so foolish is the mistaken World, to grieve at our happiest [Page 343] Fortune, either when we go to Hea­ven, or retreat from this World, which has nothing in it that can re­ally charm, without a thousand Fa­tigues to attend it: And in this Re­treat, I am sure, he himself was the only Person that was not infinitely concerned; who quitted the World with so modest a Bravery, so intire a Joy, as no young Conqueror ever perform'd his Triumphs with more.

The Ceremony being ended, An­tonett got Silvia to her Chair, con­cern'd even to Death; and she vow'd afterwards, she had much a­do to withhold herself from run­ning and seizing him at the Altar, and preventing his Fortune and De­sign, but that she believed Philander would have resented it to the last degree, and possibly have made it fatal to both herself and Octavio. It was a great while before she could recover from the Indisposition to which this fatal and unexpected Ac­cident had reduced her: But as I [Page 344] have said, she was not of a Nature to dy for Love; and charming and brave as Octavio was, it was per­haps her Interest, and the loss of his considerable Fortune, that gave her the greatest Cause of Grief. Some­times she vainly fancied that yet her Power was such, that with the Ex­pence of one Visit, and some of her usual Arts, which rarely fail, she had power to withdraw his Thoughts from Heaven, and fix 'em all on her­self again, and to make him fly those Inclosures to her more agree­able Arms: But again she wisely considered, tho' he might be re­triev'd, his Fortune was disposed of to Holy Uses, and could never be so. This last Thought more prevailed upon her, and had more convincing Reason in it, than all that could besides oppose her Flame; for she had this wretched Prudence, even in the highest Flights and Passions of her Love, to have a wise Regard to Interest; insomuch that it is most [Page 345] certain, she refused to give herself up intirely even to Philander; him, whom one would have thought no­thing but perfect Love, soft irresista­ble Love could have compell'd her to have transgress'd withal, when so many Reasons contradicted her Pas­sion: How much more then ought we to believe that Interest was the greatest Motive of all her after Pas­sions? However, this powerful Mo­tive fail'd not to beget in her all the Pains and Melancholies that the most violent of Passions could do: But Brilljard, who lov'd to a grea­ter Degree than ever, strove all he could to divert the Thoughts of a Grief, for which there was no Re­medy; and believed if he could get her out of Bruxells, retir'd to the lit­tle Town, or rather Village, where he was first made happy, and where Philander still believed her to be, he should again reassume that Power o­ver her Heart he had before: In this melancholy Fit of hers he Pro­posed [Page 346] it, urging the Danger he should be in for obeying her, should Philander once come to know that she was in Bruxells; and that pos­sibly she would not find so civil a Treatment as he ought to pay her, if he should come to the knowledge of it: Besides these Reasons, he said, he had some of greater Importance, which he must not discover till she were withdrawn from Bruxells: But there needed not much to perswade her to retire, in the Humour she then was; and with no Opposition on her side, she told him she was ready to go where he thought fit; and ac­cordingly the next day they depar­ted the Town, and in three more ar­rived to the Village. In all this Journey Brilljard never approach'd her but with all the Respect ima­ginable, but withal with abundance of silent Passion; which manner of Carriage, obliged Silvia very often to take Notice of it, with great Sa­tisfaction and Signs of Favour; and [Page 347] as he saw her Melancholy abate, he increased in sighing and Lovers Bold­nesses: Yet with all this he could not oblige her to those Returns he wished: When, after ten days stay, Philander writ to him, to inquire of his Health, and of Silvia, to whom he sent a very kind good na­tured Letter, but no more of the Lover than if there had never been such a Joy between 'em: He beg'd her to take care of herself, and told her he would be with her in ten or fifteen days; and desired her to send him Brilljard, if he were not wholly necessary to her Service, for he had urgent Affairs to imploy him in: So that Brilljard, not being able longer, with any colour to defend his Stay, writ him word he would wait on him in two days: which short time he wholly imploy'd in utmost Indeavour to gain Silvia's Favour; but she, whose Thoughts were roving on new Designs, which she thought fit to conceal from a [Page 348] Lover, still put him off with pre­tended Illness, and thoughtfulness on the late melancholy Object and loss of Octavio: But assur'd him as soon as she was recovered of that Pressure, she would receive him with the same Joy she had before, and which his Person and his Services merited from her; 'twas thus she sooth'd the hoping Lover, who went a­way with all the Satisfaction ima­ginable; bearing a Letter from Sil­via to Philander, written with all the Art of Flattery. Brilljard was no sooner gone, but Silvia, whose Head ran on new Adventures, re­solv'd to try her Chance; and being, whenever she pleased, of a Humour very Gay, she resolv'd upon a De­sign, in which she could trust no body but her Page, who lov'd his Lady to the last Degree of Passion, tho he never durst show it, even in his Looks or Sighs; and yet the cunning Silvia had by chance found his Flame, and would often take De­light [Page 349] to torture the poor Youth, to laugh at him: She knew he would dy to serve her, and she durst trust him with the most important Busi­ness of her Life: She therefore the next Morning sends for him to her Chamber, which she often did, and told him her Design; which was, in Man's Cloths to go back to Brux­ells, and see if they could find any Adventures by the way that might be worth the Journey, and divert 'em: She told him she would trust him with all her Secrets; and he vow'd Fidelity. She bid him bring her a Suit of those Cloths she used to wear at her first Arrival at Hol­land; and he look'd out one very fine, and which she had worn that day she went to have been married to Octavio, when the States Messengers took her for a French Spy, a Suit Philander had never seen: She e­quips herself, and leaving in charge with Antonett what to say in her Absence; and telling her she was [Page 350] going upon a Frolick to divert her­self a day or two, she, accompa­nied by her Page only, took Horse, and made away towards Bruxells: You must know that the half-way Stage is a very small Village, in which there is most lamentable Ac­commodation, and may vie with a­ny part of Spain for bad Inns. Sil­via, not used much to riding, as a Man, was pretty well tired by that time she got to one of those Hotels; and as soon as she alighted she went to her Chamber, to refresh and cool herself; and while the Page was gone to the Kitchen, to see what there was to eat, she was leaning out of the Window, and looking on the Passengers that rode along, ma­ny of which took up in the same House. Among them that alighted, there was a very handsom young Gentleman, appearing of Quality, attended only by his Page: She con­sidered this Person a little more than the rest, and finding him so unac­companied, [Page 351] had a Curiosity, natu­ral to her, to know who he was: She ran to another Window, that look'd into the Yard, a kind of Balcony, and saw him alight, and look at her; and Saluted her in passing into the Kitchin, seeing her look like a Youth of Quality: Com­ing in he saw her Page, and ask'd if he belong'd to that Young Cavalier in the Gallery; the Page told him he did: And being ask'd Who he was, he told him he was a young Noble Man of France; a Stranger to all those parts, and had made an escape from his Tutors, to ramble for his Fancy and his Pleasure; and said he was of a Humour, never to be out of his way; all places being alike to him in those little Adventures. So leaving him (with yet a greater Curiosity) he ran to Silvia, and told her what had past between the young Stran­ger and him: While she, who was possest with the same Inquisitive Hu­mour, bid him inquire who he was, [Page 352] when the Master of the Hotel com­ing in the interim up to usher in her Supper, she inquir'd of him who that Young Stranger was; he told her, one of the greatest Persons in Flanders; that he was Nephew to the Governour, and who had a very great Equipage at other times; but that now he was Incognito, being on an Intrigue: This Intrigue gave Sil­via new Curiosity; and hoping the Master would tell him again, she fell into great praises of his Beauty and his Mein; which for several reasons pleas'd the Man of the Inn, who departed with the good News, and told every Word of it to the Young Cavalier: The good Man ha­ving, besides the pleasing him with the grateful Complements, a farther design in the Relation; for his House being very full of Persons of all sorts, he had no Lodging for the Gover­nour's Nephew, unless he could re­commend him to our Young Cavalier. The Gay unknown, extreamly [Page 353] pleas'd with the Character he had gi­ven him, by so beautiful a Gentleman, and one who appear'd of so much quality, being alone, and knowing he was so also, sent a Spanish Page, that spoke very good French, and had a handsome Address, and quick Wit, to make his Complement to the Young Mounsieur; which was to beg to be admitted to Sup with him; who readily accepted the Honour, as she call'd it; and the Young Gover­nour, whom we must call Alonzo, for a reason or two, immediately af­ter enter'd her Chamber, with an admirable Address, appearing much handsomer near, than at distance; tho' even then he drew Silvia's Eyes with admiration on him; there were a thousand Young Graces in his Person, Sweetnesses in his Face, Love and Fire in his Eyes, and Wit on his Tongue: His Stature was nei­ther Tall nor Low, very well made, and fashion'd; a Light brown Hair, Hazle Eyes, and a very soft and a­morous [Page 354] Air; about twenty Years of Age: He spoke very good French; and after the first Complements on either side were over, as on such oc­casions are necessary; in which on both sides were nothing but great Expressions of Esteem, Silvia be­gan so very well to be pleas'd with the fair Stranger, that she had like to have forgot the part she was to act, and have made Discoveries of her Sex, by Addressing herself with the Modesty and Blushes of a Wo­man: But Alonzo who had no such apprehension; tho' she appear'd with much more Beauty, than he [...]ansied ever to have seen in a Man, never­theless admir'd without suspecting, and took all those Signs of Effemina­cy to unassur'd Youth, and first Address; and he was absolutely de­ceiv'd in her. Alonzo's Supper be­ing brought up, which was the best the bad Inn afforded, they sat down, and all Supper time talk'd of a thou­sand pleasant things, and most of Love [Page 355] and Women, where both exprest, a­bundance of Gallantry for the fair Sex. Alonzo related many short and pleasant accidents, and amours he had had with women. Tho' the Stran­ger were by Birth a Spaniard; yet while they discours'd, the Glass was not Idle, but went as briskly about, as if Silvia had been an absolute good Fellow. Alonzo Drinks his, and his Mistresses Health, and Silvia return'd the Civility, and so on till three Bot­tles were Sacrific'd to Love and good Humour, while she at the expence of a little Modesty, declared herself so much of the opinion of Don Alan­zo, for Gay Inconstancy, and the Blessing of Variety, that he was wholly Charm'd with a Conversati­on so agreeable to his own. I have heard her Page say, from whom I have had a great part of the Truths of her Life, that he never saw Silvia in so pleasant a Humour all his life before, nor seem'd so well pleas'd, which gave him, her Lover, a Jealou­sie, [Page 356] that perplext him above any thing he had ever felt from Love; tho' he durst not own it. But Alon­zo finding his Young Companion al­together so Charming (and in his own way too) could not forbear very often from falling upon his Neck, and Kissing the fair disguis'd, with as hearty an Ardour, as ever he did one of an other Sex: He told her he Ador'd her; she was directly of his Principle, all gay, inconstant, galiard and roving, and with such a Gusto he commended the Joys of fickle Youth, that Silvia would of­ten after say, she was then Jealous of him, and Envious of those who possest him, tho' she knew not whom. The more she lookt on him, and heard him speak, the more she fan­sied him: and Wine that warm'd her Head, made her give him a thou­sand Demonstrations of Love, that warm'd her Heart; which he mi­stoke for Friendship, having mista­ken her Sex. In this fit of beginning [Page 357] Love (which is always the best) and Jealousie, she bethought her to ask him on what Adventure he had now been; for he being without his Equipage, she believ'd, she said, he was upon some affair of Love: He told her there was a Lady, within an Hours riding of that place, of quali­ty, and handsome, very much Cour­ted: Amongst those that were of the number of her Adorers, he said, was a Young Man of Quality of France, who call'd himself Philander: This Philander had been about eight Days very happy in her Favour, and had hap'ned to boast his good Fortune the next Night at the Governours Table, where he Din'd with the Prince Cesario. I told him, continued Alonzo, That the Person he so boa­sted of, had so soon granted him the Favour, that I believ'd she was of a Humour to suffer none to die at her Feet: but this, said he, Philander thought an Indignity to his good parts, and told me, he believ'd he was [Page 358] the only Man happy in her Favour, and that could be so: On this I ven­tur'd a Wager, at which he colour'd extreamly, and the Company laugh'd, which Incens'd him more; the Prince urg'd the Wager, which was a pair of Spanish Horses, the best in the Court, on my side, against a Dis­cretion on his: This odds offer'd by me Incens'd him yet more; but urg'd to lay, we ended the Dispute with the Wager, the best Conclusion of all Controversies. He would have known what measures I would take; I refus'd to satisfie him in that; I only swore him upon Honour, that he should not discover the Wager or the dispute to the Lady. The next day I went to pay her a visit, from my Aunt, the Governours Lady, and she receiv'd me with all the civility in the World, I seem'd surpriz'd at her Beauty, and could talk of nothing but the Adoration I had for her, and found her extreamly pleas'd, and vai [...], of which Feeble Resistance I made so [Page 359] good advantage, that before we par­ted, being all alone, I receiv'd from her all the Freedoms that I could with any good Manners be allow'd, the first time; she fir [...]ing me with Kisses, and suffering my closest Embraces. Ha­ving prosper'd so well, I left her for that time, and two days after I made my visit again; she was a Married Lady, and her Husband was a Dutch Count, and gone to a little Govern­ment he held under my Uncle, so that again I found a free Admittance; I told her 'twas my Aunt's Comple­ment I brought before, but that now 'twas my own I brought, which was that of an impatient Heart, that Burnt with a World of Fire and Flame, and Non-sense. In [...]ine, so eager I was, and so pressing for some­thing more than Dull Kissing, that she began to retire as fast as she ad­vanc'd before, and told me, after a­bundance of pressing her to it, that she had set a price upon her Beauty, and unless I understood how to pur­chase [Page 360] her, it was not her fault, if I were not happy: At first I so little expected it had been Money, that I reiterated my Vows, and fansied it was the assurance of my Heart she meant; but she very frankly replyed, Sir, you may spare your Pains, and five hundred Pistols will ease you of a great deal of trouble, and be the best Argument of your Love. This Generous Consciencious Humour of hers, of suffering none to Die that had five hundred Pistols to present for a Cure, was very good News to me, and I found I was not at all oblig'd to my Youth or Beauty, but that a Man with half a Nose, or a single Eye, or that stunk like an old Spaniard, that had Din'd on Rotten Cheese and Garlick, should have been equally as welcome for the aforesaid Sum, to this Charming Insensible. I must confess, I do not love to chaffer for my pleasure, it takes off the best part of it, and were I left to my own Judgment of its worth, I should [Page 361] hardly have offer'd so sneaking a Sum; but that sort of bargaining was her Humour, and to enjoy her mine, tho' she had strangely pall'd me by this management of the Mat­ter: all I had now to do, was to appoint my Night, and bring my Money; now was a very proper time for it, her Husband being absent: I took my leave of her, infinitely well pleas'd to have gain'd my point on any Terms, with a promise to deli­ver my self there the next Night: but she told me she had a Brother to come to morrow, whom she would not have see me, and for that reason, (being however not willing to de­lay the receiving her Pistoles) she desired I would wait at this ve­ry House, till a Foot-man should give me notice when to come; according­ly I came, and sent her a Billet, that I waited prepar'd at all points; and she return'd me a Billet to this pur­pose: That her Brother with some Re­lations being arriv'd, as she expected, she [Page 362] beg'd for her Honour's sake, that I would wait till she sent, which should be as soon as they were gone to their Cham­bers; and they having rid a long Iourney, would early retire; that she was impatient of the Blessing, and should be as well prepar'd as himself, and that she would leave her Woman Leti­cia to give me Admittance.—This sa­tisfy'd me very well; and as I atten­ded here, some of my acquaintance chanced to arrive; with whom I Supp'd, and took so many Glasses, to her Health, as it past down, that I was arriv'd at a very handsome pitch, and to say Truth was as full of Bac­chus as Venus. However as soon as her Foot-man arriv'd, I stole away, and took Horse, and by that time it was quite dark arriv'd at her House, where I was let in by a Young [...] Maid, whose Habit was very neat and clean, and she herself appear'd to my Eyes, then daz­ling with Wine, the most beautiful Young Creature I had ever seen, as in truth she was; she seemed all Mo­desty, [Page 363] and blushing Innocence; so that conducting me into a low Par­lour, while she went to tell her Lady I was come, who lay ready drest in all the Magnificence of Night-dress to receive me, I sate contemplating on this fair Young Maid, and no more thought of her Lady, than of Bethlehem Gabor. The Maid soon re­turn'd, and Curtsying, told me with Blushes on her Face, that her Lady expected me; the House was still as Sleep, and no Noise heard, but the little Winds that rush'd among the Iesamin that grew at the Window; now whether at that moment, the false Light in the Room, or the true Wine deceived me, I know not; but I beheld this Maid as an Angel for Beauty; and indeed I think she had all the temptations of Nature. I began to kiss her, and she to tremble and blush; yet not so much out of Fear, as Sur­prize and Shame at my Addresses. I found her pleased with my Vows, and melting at my Kisses; I sigh'd in [Page 364] her Bosom, which panted me a welcome there; that Bosom whiter than Snow, sweeter than the Nose­gay she had Planted there. She urg'd me faintly to go to her Lady, who expected me, and I swore it was for her Sake I came (whom I ne­ver saw) and that I scorn'd all other Beauties: She kindl'd at this, and her Cheeks glow'd with Love. I press'd her to all I wish'd, but she re­plyed, she was a Maid, and should be undone. I told her I would Mar­ry her, and swore it with a thousand Oaths; she believed, and grew pret­tily Fond—In fine, at last she, yielded to all I ask'd of her, which we had scarce recover'd when her Lady rung. I could not stir, but she who fear'd a Surprize, ran to her, and told her I was gone into the Garden, and would come immediately; she, hastens down again to me, Fires me anew, and pleas'd me anew; 'twas thus I taught a longing Maid the first Lesson of Sin, at the price of Fifty [Page 365] Pistoles, which I presented her; nor could I yet part from this young Char­mer, but stayed so long that her Lady rung a Silver Bell again; but my new Prize was so wholly taken up with the pleasure of this new Amour, and the good Fortune arriv'd to her, she heard not the Bell, so that the fair deceiv'd, put on her Night-gown and Slippers, and came softly down Stairs, and found my new Love, and I closely imbracing with all the pas­sion and fondness imaginable. I know not what she saw in me in that kind moment to her Woman, or whether the disappointment gave her a greater desire, but 'tis most cer­tain she fell most desperately in Love with me, and scorning to take notice of the Indignity I put upon her, she unseen stole to her Chamber: Where after a most afflicting Night, she next Morning called her Woman to her (whom I left towards Morning,) better pleased with my Fifty Pistoles worth of Beauty, than I should have [Page 366] been with that of five hundred: the Maid whose Guilt made her very much unassur'd, approach'd her La­dy with such tremblings, as she no longer doubted, but she was guilty, but durst not examine her about it, least she, who had her Honour in keeping, should by the discovery she found she had made of her Levi­ty, expose that of her Lady. She therefore, dissembled as well as she could, and examined her about my stay; to which the Maid answer'd, I had fallen asleep, and 'twas im­possible to wake me till day appear'd; when for fear of discovery, I posted away. This, tho' the Lady knew was false, she was forc'd to take for currant Excuse, and more raging with Love, than ever, she immedi­ately dispatch'd away her Foot-man, with a Letter to me, upbraiding me extreamly; but at the same time, in­viting me with all the passion imagi­nable; and because I should not again see my young Mistriss, who was dy­ing [Page 367] in Love with me, she appointed me to meet her at a little House she had, a Bow-shot from her own, where was a fine De [...]oy, and a great num­ber of Wild-fowl kept, which her Husband took great delight in; there I was to wait her coming, where liv'd only a Man, and his old Wife, her Servants: I was very glad of this Invitation, and went; she came adorn'd with all her Charms. I con­sider'd her a new Woman, and one whom I had a Wager to win upon, the conquest of one I had inclination to, till by the discovery of the Jilt in her I began to dispise the Beauty; how­ever, as I said, she was new, and now perhaps easie to be brought to my Terms, as indeed it hap'ned; she caress'd me with all imaginable fond­ness; was ready to Eat my Lips, in­stead of Kissing them, and much more forward than I wish'd, who do not love an over easie Conquest; however she pleas'd me for three days together, all which time she de­tained [Page 368] me there, coming to me early, and staying the latest Hour; and I have no reason to repent my time; for besides that I have past it very well, she at my coming away pre­sented me this Jewel in my Hat, and this Ring on my Finger, and I have sav'd my five hundred Pistoles, my heart, and my credit in the Encounter, and am going to Bruxells to triumph over the haughty conceited Philan­der, who set so great a value on his own Beauty, and yet for all his fine Person has paid the Pistoles before he could purchase the Blessing, as she swore to me, who have made a Con­vert of her, and reduced her to the thing she never yet was, a Lover; insomuch that she has promised me to renounce Philander. I have pro­mised to visit her again; but if I do, 'twill be more for the Vanity to please than be pleas'd, for I never repeat any thing with pleasure: All the while he spoke, Silvia fix'd her Eyes, and all her soft desires upon him; [Page 369] she envies the happy Countess, but much more the happy Maid, with whom his perfect liking made him happy; she fansies him in her Arms, and wishes him there; she is ready a thousand times to tell him she is a Woman; but when she reflects on his inconstancy, she fears. When he had ended his Story, she Cry'd, sighing: And you are just come from this fair Lady? He answered her, he was, Sound and Heart-hole: She reply'd, 'Tis very well you are so, but all the young do not thus escape from Beauty, and you may some time or other be Intrapt. Oh, cry'd he! I defy the power of one, while Heaven has distributed Variety to all. Were you never in Love, reply­ed Silvia? Never, said he, that they call Love: I have burnt and rav'd an Hour or two, or so; pursu'd, and gaz'd, and laid Sieges, till I had over­come; but what's this to Love? Did I ever make a second visit, unless up­on Necessity or Gratitude? And yet —and there he sigh'd; and yet, said [Page 370] he, I saw a Beauty once upon the Tower, that has ever since given me Torment. At Bruxells, said Silvia? There, replyed he; she was the fairest Creature Hea­ven e're made, such White and Read by Nature, such a Hair, such Eyes, and such a Mouth!—all Youth and ravishing sweetness,—I pursu'd her to her Lodgings, and all I could get, was, that she belonged to a young Noble Man, who since has taken Orders. From the Night I saw her, I never left her Window, but had Spies of all sorts, who brought me in intelligence, and a little after I found she had quitted the place with a new Lover, which made me love and rave for her ten times more, when I knew assuredly she was a Whore— and how fine a one I had mist: This call'd all the Blood to Silvia's Face, and so confounded her, she could not answer; she knew it was her self, of whom he spoke; and that course word tho' innocently spoken, or rather gayly express'd, put her quite out of Countenance; however she recover'd [Page 371] again, when she considered they were not meant as rudenesses to her. She lov'd him, and was easie to par­don: With such discourse they past the Evening, till towards Bed-time, and the young Spaniara, who had took but little rest in three Nights before, was for some repose; and cal­ling for his Chamber, the Host be­sought him, since they had the hap­piness (the young French Gentleman and himself) to be so good Friends, that they would share a Bed together; for intruth, said he, Sir, you must sit up all Night else: he replyed, with all his Soul, it was the most grateful proposal, had been ever made him; and Addressing himself to Silvia, asked him if he would a­low him that Blessing: She blush'd extreamly at the question, and hung down her Eyes, and he laugh'd to see it: Sir, said Silvia, I will give you my Bed, for 'tis all one to me, to lye on a Bed, or on the Chairs. Why, Sir, said Alonzo, I am too passionate an [Page 372] adorer of the Female Sex, to incom­mode any of my own with Addresses; nor am I so Nice, but I can suffer a Man to lye by me, especially so dear a Youth as your self [...]e. at which he Embraced him in his Arms, which did but the more raise Silva's Blushes, who wish'd for what she dreaded: With you, Sir, said she, I could methinks be content to do what I do not use to do; and fea­ring to betray her Sex, forced a con­sent; for either one or the other she was compell'd to do; and with the as­surance that he thought her what she seemed, she chose to give her consent, and they both went to Bed together: to add to her deceit (she being forced in her Sickness to cut off her Hair) when she put off her Perriwig, she discovered nothing of the Woman; nor feared she any thing but her Breasts, which were the roundest and the whitest in the World; but she was long in undressing, which to colour the Matter, she suffered her Page to do, who, poor Lad, was [Page 373] never in so trembling a condition, as in that manner to be obliged to serve her, where she discovered so many Charms he never before had seen, but all such as might be seen with Modesty: By that time she came to Bed, Alonzo was fast asleep, being so long kept waking, and never so much as dreamt he had a Woman with him; but she whose fears kept her waking, had a thousand Agita­tions and Wishes, so natural it is when Virtue has broke the bounds of Modesty, to plunge in past all re­treat; and I believe there are very few who retire after the first Sin. She considers her condition in a strange Country, her Splendor de­clining, her Love for Philander quite reduced to Friendship, or hardly that; she was young, and eat and drank well; had a World of Vanity, that Food of desire, that Fuel to Vice: She saw this the Beautifullest Youth she imagin'd ever to have seen, of Quality and Fortune able to serve her; [Page 374] all these made her rave with a desire to gain him for a Lover, and she ima­gined as all the vain and young do, that tho no Charms had yet been a­ble to hold him, she alone had those that would; her Glass had a thou­sand times told her so; she compares him to Octavio, and finds him in her opinion handsomer; she was possest with some Love for Philander, when he first Address'd to her, and Octavio shar'd at best but half a Heart; but now, that she had lost all for Philan­der and Octavio, and had a Heart to cast away, or give to a new Lover; it was like her Money, she hated to keep to it, and lavish'd it on any Trifle, rather than hoard it, or let it lie by: 'Twas a loss of time her Youth could not spare: she after re­flection resolved, and when she had resolved, she believ'd it done. By a Candle she had by her to read a little Novel, she had brought, she Survey­ed him often, as curiously as Psyche did her Cupid, and tho he slept like [Page 375] a meer Mortal, he appeared as Charming to her Eyes as the wing'd God himself; and 'tis believed she wish'd he would awake and find by her Curiosity, her Sex: For this I know, she durst no longer trust her self a Bed with him, but got up, and all the last part of the Night walk'd a­bout the Room: her Page lay in the Room with her, by her order, on the Table, with a little Vallice under his Head, which he carryed Silvia's Li­nen in; she waked him and told him all her fears in a pleasant manner. In the Morning Alonzo awakes, and wonders to find her up so soon, and reproach'd her for the unkindness; new Protestations on both sides pas­sing of eternal Friendship, they both resolved for Bruxells; but lest she should incounter Philander on the way, who possible might be on visi­ting his Dutch Countess, she desired him to ride on before, and to su [...]fer him to lose the happiness of his Company, till they met in Bruxells: [Page 376] With much ado he consents, and tak­ing the Ring the Countess gave him from of his Finger; Sir, said he, be pleas'd to wear this, and if ever you need my Fortune or my Sword, send it, and in what part of the World soever I am, I will fly to your Ser­vice. Silvia returned him a little Ring set round with Diamonds, that Philander in his woing time had given her amongst a thousand of finer va­lue: His Name and hers was Ingraven, instead of a Poesie in it; which was only Philander and Silvia, and which he took no notice of, and parted from each other in the tenderest man­ner, that two young Gentlemen could possible be imagin'd to do, tho it were more than so on her side; for she was madly in Love with him.

As soon as Silvia came to Bruxells, she sent in the Evening to search out Brilljard, for she had considered, if he should come to the knowledge of her being in Town, and she should not send to him, he would take it so [Page 377] very ill, that he might prevent all her designs and rambles, the now Joy of her Heart; she knew she could make him her Slave, her Pimp, her any thing, for Love, and the hope of her Favour; and his inte­rest might defend her; and she should know all Philander's motions, whom now, tho she lov'd no more, she fear'd. She found him, and he took her Lodg­ings, infinitely pleas'd at the trust she reposed in him; the only means by which he could arrive to happi­ness. She continues her Mans Ha­bit, and he supplyed the place of Val­let, dress'd her and undress'd her, shif­ted her Linen every day; nor did he take all these Freedoms, without ad­vancing a little farther upon occasi­on and opportunity, which was the hire she gave him to serve her in more Lucky Amours; the Fine she paid to live free, and at ease. She tells him her adventure, which tho it were Daggers to his Heart, was however the only way to keep her his own; [Page 378] for he knew her Spirit was too vio­lent to be restrained by any means. At last she told him her design upon a certain young Man of quality, which she told him was the same she Incountered. She assures him 'twas not Love or Liking, but perfectly Interest that made her design upon him, and that if he would assist her, she would be very kind to him, as a Man that had gain'd very greatly upon her Heart. This Flattery she urg'd with infinite fondness and art, and he over-joy'd believed every word as Gospel; so that he promised her the next day to carry a Billet to the young Don: In the mean time she caus'd him to Sup with her, pur­posly to give her an account of Phi­lander, Cesario and Hermione, whom she heard was come to Bruxells, and liv'd publickly with the Prince. He told her it was very true, and that he saw them every day, nay, every moment together; for he verily belie­ved they could not live asunder. That [Page 379] Philander was every Evening Cabal­ling there, where all the male contents of the Reformed Religion had taken Sanctuary, and where the Grand Council was every Night held; for some great things were in Agitation, and debating how to trouble the repose of all France again with new Broils; he told her, that all the World made their Court to Hermione, that if any Body had any Petitions, or Addresses to make to the Prince, 'twas by her sole Interest; she sate in their closest Councils, and heard their gravest debates; and she was the Oracle of the Board: The Prince paying her a perfect Adoration, while she, whose Charms of Youth were ended, being turned of thirty, fortifyed her decays with all the Arts her Wit and Sex were ca­pable of, and kept her Illustrious Lover, as perfectly her Slave as if she had ingag'd him by all those tyes that Fetter the most circumspect, and to­tally subdued him to her Will, who [Page 380] was without Exception the most love­ly Person upon Earth: and tho, Ma­dam, you know him so perfectly well; yet I must tell you my opinion of him; He is all the softer Sex can wish, and ours admire; he is form'd for Love and War; and as he is the most amorous and wanton in Courts, he is also the most fierce and brave in Field: His Birth the most elevated, his Age arriv'd to full blown Man, adorn'd with all the spreading Glo­ries that Charm the Fair, and ingage the World; and I have often heard some of our Party say, his Person gain'd him more numbers to his side, than his Cause or Quality; for he un­derstood all the useful Arts of Popu­larity, the gracious smile and bow, and all those cheap Favours that so gain upon Hearts; and without the expence of any thing but Ceremony, has made the Nation mad for his In­terest, who never otherwise oblig'd 'em; and sure nothing is more neces­sary in the great, than Affability; nor [Page 381] shows greater marks of Grandure, or shall more etternize them, than bowing to the Crowd. As the Maiden Queen I have read of in Eng­land, who made herself idoliz'd by that sole Piece of politick Cunning, understanding well the stubborn yet good Nature of the People; and gained more upon 'em by those lit­tle Arts, than if she had parted with all the Prerogatives of her Crown. Ah! Madam, you cannot imagine what little Slights govern'd the whole Universe, and how easie 'tis for Mo­narchs to oblige. This Cesario was made to know, and there is none so poor an Object, who may not have Access to him, and whom he does not send away well pleased, tho' he do not grant what they ask. He dispatch­es quickly, which is a grateful Ver­tue in great Men; and none ever espoused his Interest, that did not find a Reward and a Protection: 'Tis true, these are all the Tools he is to work with, and he stops at [Page 382] nothing that leads to his Ambition [...] nor has he done all that lies in the Power of Man only, to set al [...] France yet in a Flame, but he calls up the very Devils from Hell, to his Aid, and there is no Man fam'd for Negromancy, to whom he does not apply himself; which, indeed [...] is done by the Advice of Hermione▪ who is very much affected with those sort of People, and puts a very great Trust and Confidence in 'em. She sent, at great Expence, for a German Conjurer, who arrived the other Day, and who is perpetually consulting with another of the same sort, a Scot by Birth, called Fergusano. He was once in Holy Orders, and still is so, but all his Practice is the black Art; and excellent in it he is re­ported to be. Hermione undertakes nothing without his Advice; and as he is absolutely her Creature, so his Art governs her, and she the Prince: She holds her Mid-night Conferen­ces with him; and as she is very su­perstitious, [Page 383] so she is very learned, and studies this Art, taught by this great Master Fergusano: And so far is this glorious Hero bewitched with these Sorcerers, that he puts his whole Trust in these Conjurations and Charms; and so far they have imposed on him, that with an in­chanted Oyntment which they have prepared for him, he shall be invul­nerable, tho' he face the very Mouth of a Cannon: They have, at the earnest Request of Hermione, calcu­lated his Nativity, and find him born to be a King; and that before twenty Moons exspire he shall be crown'd in France: And flattering his easie Youth with all the Vani­ties of Ambition, they have made themselves absolutely useful to him. This Scot, being a most inveterate Enemy to France, lets the Prince rest neither Night nor Day, but is still inspiring him with new Hopes of a Crown, and laying him down all the false Arguments imaginable, to [Page 384] spur the active Spirit: My Lord is not of the Opinion, yet seems to comply with them in Council; he laughs at all the Fopperies of Charms and Incantations; insomuch, that he many times angers the Prince, and is in eternal little Feuds with Hermione. The German, would of­ten in these Disputes say, he found by his Art, That the Stop to the Princes Glory would be his Love. This so incensed Hermione, and con­sequently the Prince, that they had like to have broke with him, but durst not for fear; he knowing too much to be disobliged: On the other side, Fergusano is most wonder­fully charmed with the Wit and masculine Spirit of Hermione, her Courage, and the manliness of her Mind; and understanding what way she would be served, resolved to o­bey her, finding she had an ab­solute Ascendant over the Prince, whom, by this means, he knew he should get into his sole Manage­ment. [Page 385] Hermione, tho' she seemed to be possess'd so intirely of Cesar­rio's Heart, found she had great and powerful Opposers, who believ'd the Prince lay idling in her Arms, and that possibly she might eclipse his Fame by living at that rate with a Woman he had no other Pretensions to but Love; and many other Mo­tives were urged daily to him by the Admirers of his great Actions: And she feared, with reason, that some time or other Ambition might get the Ascendant of Love: She there­fore, in her Mid-night Conferences with Fergusano, often urg'd him to show her that piece of his Art, to make a Philtre to retain fleeting Love; and not only keep a Passion alive, but even revive it from the dead. She tells him of her Con­tract with him, she urges his for­ced Marriage, as she was pleased to call it, in his Youth; and that he being so young, she believed he might find it lawful to marry him­self [Page 386] a second time; that possibly his Princess was for the Interest of the King; and Men of his elivated For­tune, ought not to be ty'd to those Strictnesses of common Men, but for the good of the Publick, sometimes act beyond the musty Rules of Law and Equity, those politick Bands to confine the Mobile. At this unrea­sonable rate she pl [...]ads her Right to Cesario, and he har [...]ens with all At­tention, and approves so well all she says, that he resolves, not only to attach the Prince to her by all the force of the black Art, but that of necessary Marriage also: This plea­sed her to the last degree; and she left him, after he had promised her to bring her the Philtre by the Morn­ing, for it was that she most ur­ged, the other requiring time to ar­gue with him, and work him by degrees to it. Accordingly the next Morning he brings her a Tooth-pick-case of Gold of rare infernal Workmanship, wrought with a thou­sand [Page 387] Charms, of that Force, that e­very time the Prince should touch it, and while he but wore it about him, his Fondness should not only continue, but increase, and he should hate all Womankind besides, at least in the way of Love; and have no power to possess another Woman, tho' she had all the Attractions of Nature. He tells her the Prince could never suspect so familiar a Present, and for the fineness of the Work, it was a Present for a Prince, For, said he, no human Art could frame so rare a piece of Workmanship, that Nine Nights the most delicate of the Infernals were mixing the Metal with the most powerful of Charms, and watch'd the critical Minutes of the Stars, in which to form the mystick Figures, every one being a Spell upon the Heart of that unerring Magick, no mortal Power could ever dissolve, undo, or conquer. The only Art now was in giving it, so as to ob­lige him n [...]ver to part with it; and [Page 388] she, who had all the Cunning of her Sex, undertook for that part: She dismissed her infernal Confi­dent, and went to her Toilet to dress her, knowing well that the Prince would not be long before he came to her: She laid the Tooth-pick-Case down so as he could not avoid see­ing it: The Prince came immedi­ately after in, as he ever used to do Night and Morning, to see her dress her; he saw this gay Thing on her Table, and took it in his Hand, ad­miring the Work of it, as he was the most curious Person in the World: She told him there was not a finer wrought thing in the World, and that she had a very great Esteem for it, it being made by the Sybils; and bade him mind the Antique­ness of the Work: The more she commended it, the more he liked it, and told her she must let him call it his: She told him he would give it away to the next Commender: He vow'd he would not: She told [Page 389] him, then he should not only call it his, but it should in reality be so; and he vow'd it should be the last thing he would part with in the World.

From that time forward she found, or thought she found, a more im­patient Fondness in him than she had seen before; however it was, she rul'd and govern'd him as she pleased; and indeed, never was so great a Slave to Beauty as, in my Opinion, he was to none at all; for she is far from having any na­tural Charms; yet it was not long, since it was absolutely believed by all, that he had been resolved to give himself wholly up to her Arms; to have sought no other Glory than to have retired to a Corner of the World with her, and changed all his Crowns of Laurel for those of Roses: But some stirring Spirits have roused him anew, and awakened Ambition in him, and they are on great Designs, which possibly ere [Page 390] long, may make all France to trem­ble; yet still Hermione is oppressed with Love, and the Effects of day­ly increasing Passion. He has per­petual Correspondence with the Par­ty in Paris, and Advice of all things that pass; they let him know they are ready to receive him whenever he can bring a Force into France; nor needs he any considerable Num­ber, he having already there in e­very place, through which he shall pass, all, or the most part of the Hearts and Hands at his Devotion; and they want but Arms, and they shall gather as they go: They de­sire he will land himself in some part of the Kingdom, and it would be Incouragement enough to all the joyful People, who will from all parts flock together. In fine, he is offered all Assistance and Money; and least all the Forces of France should be bent against him, he has Friends of great Quality and Inte­rest, that are resolved to rise in se­veral [Page 391] places of the Kingdom, in Lan­guedoc and Guinny, whether the King must be obliged to send his For­ces, or a great part of 'em; so that all this side of France will be left defenceless. I myself, Madam, have some Share in this great Design, and possibly you will one day see me a Person of a Quality sufficient to merit those Favours I am now blessed with. Pray, reply'd Silvia, smiling with a little Scorn, what part are you to play, to arrive at this good For­tune? I am, said he, trusted to pro­vide all the Ammunition and Arms, and to hire a Vessel to transport them to some Sea-port Town in France, which the Council shall think most proper to receive us. Silvia laugh­ed, and said she prophesied another End of this high Design than they imagined; but desperate Fortunes must take their Chance. What, con­tinued she, does not Hermione speak of me, and inquire of me? Yes, re­ply'd Brill [...]ard, but in such a way, [Page 392] as if she look'd on you as a lost Crea­ture, and one of such a Reputation, she would not receive a Visit from for all the World. At this Silvia laugh­ed e [...]treamly, and cry'd, Hermione would be very well content to be so mean a Sinner as myself, to be so young and so handsome an one. How­ever, said she, to be serious, I would be glad to know what real Probability there is in advancing and succeeding in this Design, for I would take my Measures accordingly, and keep Philan­der, whose wavering, or rather lost For­tune, is the greatest Motive of my Re­solves to part with him, and that have made me so uneasy to him. Brilljard told her he was very con­fident of the Design, and that it was almost impossible to miscarry in the Discontent all France was in at this Juncture; and they feared nothing but the Prince's Relapsing, who, now, most certainly preferred Love to Glory. He farther told her, that as they were in Council, one [Page 393] deputed from the Parisians, arrived with new Offers, and to know the last Result of the Prince, whether he would espouse their Interest or not, as they were with Life and Fortune ready to espouse his Glory: They sent him word, it was from him they expected Liberty, and him whom they look'd upon as their titular Deity. Old Fergusano was then in Council, that High-land Wizard, that manages all, and who is ever at hand to awaken Mischief, alarm'd the Prince to new Glories, reproaching his scandalous Life, withal telling him there were Mea­sures to be taken to reconcile Love and Fame; and which he was to discourse to him about in his Closet only; but as things were, he bade him look into the Story of Armi­da and Renaldo, and compare his own with it, and he doubted not but he would return blushing at his Remissness and Sloath: Not that he would exempt his Youth from the [Page 394] Pleasures of Love, but he would not have Love hinder his Glory: This bold Speech before Hermione, had like to have begot an ill understand­ing; but she was as much for the Prince's Glory as Fergusano, and there­fore could not be angry, when she con­sidered the Elevation of the Prince, would be her own also. At this ne­cessary reproach, the Prince blush'd; the Board seconding the wizard, had this good effect to draw this assu­rance from him, That they should see he was not so attach'd to Love, but he could for sometime give a Cessation to his Heart, and that the Envoy from the Parisians, might return assur'd, that he would as soon as he could put his affairs in good order, come to their re­lief, and bring Arms for those that had none, with such Friends as he could get together; he could not promise Numbers, least by leading so many here, their design should take Air, but would wholly trust to Fortune, and their good resolutions: He demanded [Page 395] a Sum of money of 'em, for the buy­ing these Arms, and they have pro­mised him all Aids. This is the last result of Council, which broke immediately up; and the Prince re­tired to his Closet; where he was no sooner come, but reflecting on the necessity of leaving Hermione, he fell into the most profound Melan­choly and Muzing, that could seize a Man; while he sat thus, Hermi­one (who had school'd Fergusano for his rough Speech in Council, and de­sired he would now take the oppor­tunity to repair that want of respect, while the Prince was to be spoken to alone) sent him into the Closet to him; where he found him walking with his Arms across, not minding the Bard who stood gazing on him, and at last called to him; and finding no reply, he advanced, and pulling him gently by the Arm, cry'd— Awake, Royal young Man, awake! and look up to coming Greatness—I was reflecting, replyed Cesario, on all the [Page 396] various Fortunes I have pass'd from the time of my Birth, to this present hap­less day, and would be glad to know if any supernatural means can tell me, what future Event will befal me? If I beleived I should not gain a Crown by this great Enterprize I am undertaking, here I would lay me down in silent Ease, give up my Toils and restless Soul to Love, and never think on vain Ambition more: Ease thou my troubled Mind, if thou hast any Friend among the Infer­nals, and they dare utter Truth: My gra­cious Prince, replyed the fawning Wi­zard, this Night, if you dare loose your self from Love, and come unattended to my Apartment, I'll undertake to show you all the future Fortune you are to run, the Hazards, Dangers, and Escapes, that attend your mighty Race of Life: I'll lay the Adamantin Book before you, where all the Destinies of Princes are Hieroglisick'd. I'll show you more, if Hell can furnish Objects, and you dare stand untrembling at the Terrour of 'em. Enough, replyed [Page 397] Cesario; Name me the Hour. 'Twixt Twelve and One, said he; for that's the sacred dismal time of Night for Fiends to come, for Tombs to open, and let loose their Dead,—we shall have use of both.—No more, reply'd Ce­sario, I'll attend 'em: The Prince was going out, when Fergusano re­called him, and cry'd, one thing, Sir, I must caution you, That from this mi­nute to that, wherein I shall show you your Destiny, you commit nothing unlaw­ful with Women-kind: Away, replyed the Prince, smiling, and leave your Canting. The Wizard putting on a more grave Countenance, replyed—By all the Infernals, Sir, if you commit un­lawful Things, I cannot serve you. If your devils, replyed the Prince, Laugh­ing, be so nice, I doubt I shall find 'em too honest for my Purpose. Sir, said the subtle old Fiend, such Conscien­tious Devils your Highness is to con­verse with to Night; and if you dis­cover the Secret, it will not prove so Lucky. Since they are so Humourous, [Page 398] cry'd Cesario, I will give 'em way for once: And going out of the Room, he went directly to Hermione's apart­ment; where it being late, she is pre­paring for Bed, and with a thousand Kisses, and hanging on his Neck, she ask'd him, why he is so slow, and why he suffers not himself to be un­dress'd? He feigns a thousand excuses, at which she seems extreamly amaz'd; she complains, reproaches and com­mands —He tells her he was to wait on the Governour, about his most urgent affairs, and was (late as it was) to consult with him: She ask'd him what affairs he was to ne­gotiate, of which she was not to bear her part? he refuses to tell her; and she replyed she had sense and courage for any Enterprize, and should resent it very ill, if she were not made acquainted with it: But he swore to her, she should know all the whole truth, as soon as he re­turned: This pacifyed her in some measure, and at the hour appointed, [Page 399] she suffered him to go; and in a Chair was carryed to a little House Fergusano had taken without the Town, to which belong'd a large Garden, at the farther end of which was a Thicket of unordered Trees, that surrounded a Grotto; which pass'd a good way under the ground. It had had some rareties of Water-work formerly belonging to it, but now they were decay'd; only here and there a broken Rock let out a little Stream, that murmur'd and dash'd upon the Earth below, and ran away in a lit­tle Rivolet; which served to add a Melancholy to the dismal place: In­to this the Prince was conducted by the old German, who assisted in the Charm; they had only one Torch to light the way, which at the en­trance of the Cave, they put out, and within was only one Glimmering Lamp, that rather served to add to the horror of the Vault, discovering its hollowness and ruins. At his en­trance he was saluted with a noise [Page 400] like the rushing of Wind, which whiz'd and whistled in the mighty Concave. Anon a more silent whisper­ing surrounded him, without being able to behold any Creature, save the old German. Anon came in Fergusa­no, who rowling a great Stone that lay at one corner of the Cave, he desired the Prince to place himself on it, and not be surpriz'd at any thing he should behold, nor to stir from that inchanted Ground: he nodding, assented to obey, while Fergusano and the German, with each a Wand in their Hands, struck against the unformed Rocks, that finish'd the end of the Cave, Muttering a thousand Incantations; with Voices dreadful, and motions Antick; and after a mighty stroke of Thunder that shook the Earth, the rude Rock divided, and opened a space that discovered a most magni­ficent Apartment; in which was presented a young Hero, attended with Military Officers; his Pages [Page 401] dressing him for the Field, all in gilded Armour. The Prince began to doubt himself, and to swear in his thought, that the Apparition was himself, so very like he was to himself, as if he had seen his proper Figure in a Glass. After this, several Persons seemed to address to this great Man, of all sorts and conditions, from the Prince to the Peasant, with whom he seemed to discourse with great con­fidence and affability; they offered him the League, which he took and Signed, and gave them back; they attend him to the Door with great Joy and respect; but as soon as he was gone, they laugh'd and pointed after him; at which the Prince in­finitely incens'd rose, and cryed out, What means all this, s' Death, am I be­come the Scorn and Mockery of the Crowd? Fergusano besought him to sit and have patience, and he obey'd, and check'd himself. The Scene of the Apartment being changed to an Arbour of Flowers, and the prospect [Page 402] of a noble and ravishing Garden; the Hero is presented Arm'd as he was, only without his Plume-Head-peece, kneeling at the Feet of a fair Woman, in loose Robes and Hair, and attended with abundance of little Loves, who disarm him by degrees, of those Ornaments of War. While she Caresses him with all the signs of Love, the Cupid's make Garlands of Flowers, and wreath around his Arms and Neck, Crown­ing his Head, and fettering him all o­ver in these sweet soft Chains. They Curle his Hair, and adorn him with all Effeminacy; while he lies smiling and pleas'd—the wanton Boys disposing of his Instruments of War, as they think fit, putting them to ridiculous uses, and Laughing at 'em. While thus he lay, there enters to him a great many States-men and Politicians; grave-Men in Furs and Chains, attended by the common Crowd: and opening a Scene farther off in prospect, show him Crowns, [Page 403] Scepters, Globes, Ensigns, Arms, and Trophies; promiscuously shuf­fel'd together, with heaps of Gold, Jewels, Parchments, Records, Char­ters and Seals; at which sight he starts from the Arms of the fair Me­dea, and strove to have approach'd those who waited for him, but she held him fast, and with abun­dance of Tears and signs of moving Flattery, brought him back to her Arms again, and all dissatisfy'd the promiscuous Crowd depart, some looking back with Scorn, others with signs of Rage, and all the Scene of Glory, of Arms and Crowns, disap­pear'd with the Crowd. Cesario whol­ly forgeting, cryed out again, Ha lost! all for a Trifling Woman lost; all those Trophies of thy Conquest for a Mistress! By Heaven I'll shake the Charmer from my Soul, if both I can­not have. When Fergusano advanc­ing to him, cryed—See, Sir, how Supinely the young Hero's laid upon her downy Breast, and smil'd as he [Page 404] spoke, which angered the Prince, who replyed with Scorn, Now by my Life, a Plot upon my Love; but they protested it was not so, and beg'd he would be silent; while thus the He­ro lay regardless of his Glory, all deck'd with Flowers and Braclets, the Drums beat, and the Trumpets were heard, or seemed to be heard to sound, and a vast opening space was fill'd with armed Wariers, who offer him their Swords, and seem to point at Crowns, that were born be­hind them; a while they plead in vain, and point to Crowns in vain, at which he only casts a scornful smile, and lays him down in the soft Arms of Love. They urge again, but with one amorous look the Circe more prevails, than all their reasonings. At last by force, they divested him of his Rosy-Garlands, in which there lay a Charm, and he assumes new life, while others bore the Inchantress out of his sight; and then he suffer­ing himself to be conducted where [Page 405] they pleas'd, who lead him forth, showing him all the way a prospect of Crowns. At this Cesario sigh'd, and the Ceremony continued.