Birinthea, a romance / written by J.B. gent.

Birinthea, a romance / written by J.B. gent.

Table of contents

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Title page

THE PREFACE.

THE FIRST BOOK OF Birinthea.

Birinthea The Second Book.

Birinthea The Third Book.

The End.

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Imprimatur

Octob. 16. 1663.

Roger L' Estrang.

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Birinthea, A ROMANCE. WRITTEN, By J. B. Gent.

LONDON, Printed by Tho. Mabb, for John Playfere at the White Bear in the upper Walk of the New Exchange. 1664.

THE PREFACE.

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ALthough it may perhaps, be onely an affected, or a pretended Modesty in many others, yet it is a most severe Truth in me, when I profess I had not Published this Romance, but at the Request and Commands of some choice Friends, being[Page]sensible that a piece composed in my greener Youth, and most of it during the intervals of a sharp distemper, cannot be so mature and sound in all its parts, as it might have proved, if undertaken in a more advanced Age, and healthful Leasure. And therefore, to decline the Vanity of such as make the Preface rather a Panegyrick to their Books, then an Advertisement to the Reader; I declare, that this is onely to desire those that shall peruse the following Story, not to impute the Printers Faults to me, since there [Page]will be enough besides upon my own score, to Exercise the utmost of their mercy.

Yet do I not intend by this Ingenious Confession to submit my self to every trivial Censurer: For though I shall acquiesce in the Judgement of the Wise, yet have I too much Spirit to endure the ignorant reproof of such busie Drones as make a humming noise, indeed, like Bees, and often light upon the sweetest Flowers; but yet want the faculty to extract the least drop of Honey thence resembling such ill Constituted Bodies[Page]as convert the most wholesome Aliments into corrupt and contagious humors.

From these, I therefore justly may appeal to sounder judgements, such as examine with as much skill as equity, and consult with reason and understanding, not admitting either giddy Folly, or bespattering envy to bias them: before whom I dare affirm, that if I deserve correction in some places, I merit no less approbation in others; For if my expression be not very Eloquent, neither [Page] is it very Languid; and if novelty be therein pleasing, I am confident some will finde satisfaction; for though my stile may seem to limp, compared to the more Polite and Smooth Language of some others, yet does it not fall into Rusticity or obsceness; nor leave such uneven furrows as to make the Readers stumble, unless their prejudice or Malice lay an unhandsome block in their own way.

Such as can relish no Romance, that is, not forced with [Page] Extravagant Impossibilities (no less Ridiculous then improbable) will find little Gusto and cold entertainment here; wherefore I wish such to stop at this Preface, and make no further Progress, for I have endued my Heroes with no greater strength or courage, then may reside in generous persons; nor do I fill their Veins with streams of blood greater, then those smal channels should contain.

I know, indeed, this were an easie task, if that were all, that is required to gain [Page] applause; it being without dispute more facil to rough-draw a Gyant (with a fensing quil) who should singly rout whole Armies in every page, then really disarme the veriest Coward that dares but stand in the least defensive posture.

And who sees not the fair advantage I might now take to set off the actions of my Heroe by heightning and exagerating them with swelling Hyperboles, since he is listed one of the greatest Conquerours in the Rolls of Fame; But treating of a real [Page] History, for the most part, though it be controverted by some, I keep close to probability, and give him the Character of a man, who was indeed inriched with a more then vulgar Soul, but whose body was not above the Standar of Mortals, nor disproportionate to that condition.

For, in Truth, how currant soever Fictons may pass, yet can it not be allowed wisdome to compose such as only please and humour extravagant and irregular fancies, but that predominant [Page] faculty of the Soul, the judgement; should limit them within the naturall bounds of Reason and Possibility; And so Romances should be no other then the fairest Pictures and just ressemblances of Truth, from which it is as blameable to deviate, as to add Tinctures to the Rose or Lilly, such aids being onely an ugly and gross paint, that instead of encreasing their beauty, blurs them with deformity.

[Page] But it may be Objected, that I am my self guilty of those lapses, I here condemn, and chide so much in others; since I have feined the adventurers of so many persons, and principally Birinthea, never mentioned by any ancient Auther.

To this I Reply, that my designe, being not only to transcribe former Historians but to take my rise from thence for fresh inventions; I think them very pertinent and excusable, so long as they are within the compass of [Page] probabillity, and are not found impossibilities. In fine, it may suffice to tell you, that this is a Romance accommodated to History, to whose Text I have added those Auxiliary Embellishments rather to Illustrate, then Disguise or Corrupt it.

THE FIRST BOOK OF Birinthea.

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IF the night had not come on and surprized them, the battle had not been so soon ended: but the Sun, which contributes to the life of all things, seemed to precipitate his course expresly with the greater speed (as if unwilling to be any longer a Witness of the death of so many men) and resign'd it's Empire to the gloomy shades, that during the obscurity, they might be forced to a truce, the [Page] Combatants loosing both the sight and knowledge of their enemies.

Never did Bellona exercise the fury of her Arms with more rage then in this occasion; thirty thousand of the Assyrians were slain, together with their King Labynetus; and all the remainder could do, was to fly by the favour of the night, and steal themselves away from the victorious Persians and Medes, who seemed to breath nothing that day but slaughter, and sought to triumph over the lives of Men, rather then over their liberties. The King of Lydia perceiving likewise, that the Assyrian Troops had all forsaken the Camp, thought it vain with a feeble resistance to adventure the desperate hazard of an utter defeat and ruine; Wherefore giving command to all his men to seek their safety by a timely flight, of all that grand equipage which before attended him, he only took especial care to save some women which were extreamly dear to him.

On the morrow, at the first birth of day, Cyaxares King of the Medes, and Cyrus his Nephew, were already preparing themselves to assault the enemies Camp, when presently they found they had a pillage to make rather then a fight. Nothing appeared to their sight, but the horrid spectacle of wounded, or dead bodies: and some whose dying groans eccho'd in the Souldiers ears for pitty, called but a merciless hand to strip him of his cloaths and end his life the sooner.

The fruits of this victory relished so sweet to Cyaxares, that contenting himself with these first favours fortune had bestowed, he exhorted Cyrus [Page] to taste them in a quiet repose, and not hazard the loosing them in a second adventure But, that generous Prince, in the heat of that youthful courage which made him hope for, and aspire to the Conquest of all Asia, earnestly implored his permission to persue the enemy, to whom it was not safe to allow a breathing time, lest they should set those puissant Armies on foot again which were so formidable for their numbers, and perhaps light on some advantage to tear those Palms of Victory out of their hands again, which they had newly gathered with so much sweat and blood. He obtained in fine, the liberty to give them chase with those Persians which he commanded; and such Medians likewise as would go voluntarily, had free leave to assist him: the chiefest amongst them very Nobly accompanied him in this expedition; and he was advanced already very near the Enemy: when some Officers advertised him of the arrival of some Hircanian Embassadours, who said they were come to treat with him concerning an affair of great importance: He commanded they should be brought into his Presence, and understood by their Credential Letters, the design their Prince had to quit the Assyrians party, by whom he was wronged, and to joyn with him.

Cyrus, that he might not be surprized by too much credulity, inform'd himself by them of the posture his Enemies were in, and several other particulars, which gave him the fuller assurance of their reality: after which he refused to take those Hostages they profer'd; and when they [Page] press'd him to retain them, he generously reply'd, that he needed them not, having power enough to punish their perfidiousness, in case they should deceive him; as he had also sufficient means to reward their amity by a retribution of his own, which he promis'd them inviolably, if they prov'd faithful and constant.

He had no sooner concluded with the Hircanians, but he immediately placed some of them in the front of his Army to serve for Guides, and so marched the whole night; at the end of which, finding himself in fight of the Enemy, he dispatched a Hircanian to his companions who were in the rear, to advertise them by a word of command to rank themselves besides the rest of their Party, which they speedily performed with acclamations of joy, which much augmented, the fear and terrour of the Assyrians. Cyrus no sooner beheld the Hircanians in their due places, but that he might lead them on to fight during that heat, and the Enemies confusion, he assembled all his superiour Officers, and after he had used some particular ceremonies towards his new confederates, he harangued after this manner.

Dear Companions, it were needless to advertise you, at present, that we must fight: As it is the cause that made you come from Cyaxares with so much haste and resolution; so I promise my self, my companions, that none here will refuse the present occasion, which now presents its self so fairly to us. Yea, I should wrong you, should I exhort you to that thing, for which you followed me with so much cheerfulness, and which you have already [Page] begun with so good success. This Battle fellow Souldiers, and worthy Officers, will be but the compleating of that Crown, which the first victory hath prepared: It might slip from us if we should give so much respite to our Enemies as to resume their strength and spirits; Or if the fear which but now affrights them; should be let alone till it turn'd into despair. Yet do I not indeed question, but you would have as much success, as you have true valour, though they were in a posture to resist you more vigorously than now they can. But not to expose you to the hazard of fortune, who refused them the advantage of a victory she might have bestowed on them; and which they cannot now obtain, but by your unmanliness. Let us shew dear Companions, that we have no valour nor strength now, which they shall not be a full witness to assert is irresistable. And now that they are in disorder, having already lost the best part of their Army, with their King; And that the Hircanians the stoutest of their friends are on our side. Come on Friends, you shall conquer if you follow me, and by their first flight you may judge how unable they are to resist you.

These words being pronounc'd with an extraordinary vehemency, the Officers and Souldiers returned to their own places; Cyrus drew the Hircanians up to the Front, and on each Wing two bodies of Horse. He had not advanced far, but he was on the Enemies skirts, whilst there was yet but light enough to discover them: never was Army more surprized with fear and dread than this of the Assyrians, at their approach. The weakness and disorder they were reduced to by [Page] their first defeat, made them uncapable to sustain the attaque of the Persians and Medes, who charged them with so much precipitancy and mettle, that running here and there, allarmed they soon fell into a mighty confusion; some to oppose, others to escape, bridled their Horses, and the nimblest mounted and saved themselves: some took their Arms as their best security, others threw down theirs to fly with the less incumbrance. In fine, the greatest part of the Assyrians and their confederates being slain without any considerable opposition, this Victory was only signaliz'd by the illustrious names of some of the dead: The King of Capadocia, and the King of Thrace were killed upon the place, with many other considerable persons, both for their valour and qualities. In this action the Hircanians gave infallible proofs of their fidelity and courage; they were the first at the onset, and last in the retreat: few of the Enemies that had saved themselves from Death, could escape from Captivity; most of them being made Prisoners, and those few that fled, and drove the richest of their booty before them, were so closely persued, that the Hircanians returned laden with riches, and with a great number of Chariots full of Women. Cresus was almost the only man whom they could not overtake, who having taken the advantage of the whole night before with all his party to shun the next dayes shock, retired, being winged with fear, out of their reach.

Amongst the prisoners that were presented to Cyrus, Sybaris his Lieutenant General, the choicest [Page] of his friends, bestowed upon him by the gods for a Companion in his fortunes, took notice of one he knew, and instantly embraced him with testimonies of so particular an amity, that all the beholders were amazed: And Cyrus asking him whom that was he did so much caresse; My Lord, replyed he, If this Prince were treated according to the merit of his valour and birth, you should behold him rather with a Crown on his head, and Palms the trophies of Victory in his hands, then in this present unhappiness of a Captivity, which nevertheless cannot but be glorious to him, since it cannot but be an effect of his courage.

This Elogy which Sybaris made of his friend, render'd Cyrus the more curious to know whom he was, and having heard his Name and place of birth, with the gallant deportment had been taken notice of in the fight, he approached him with all the civilities that were due to so illustrious a Captive; and having discoursed with him some time, this Prisoner answer'd in so brave a manner, that it plainly appeared to him, those praises which Sybaris had spoken, were rather the testimonies of sincere truth, than of any particular affection.

Their Complements being ended, Sybaris to whose care Cyrus especially recommended him, conducted him to his own Tent, where he was nobly received; and having given him for some time the liberty to repose himself alone; the impatience he was in to learn by what adventure he was drawn into that action, made him return and intreat him to relate the story of his life, ever [Page] since he had left him in Margiana. Merame, who could not refuse to unlock that secret to Sybaris, with whom he had so long since contracted a real friendship, began in this manner.

The History of MERAME.

I Can give you no particular reason of my unhappiness, and the occasion which brings me here, but that alone, which as I beleeve, generally causes the misfortune of all men, I mean Love.

At that time when you resided in Margiana, I did not yet know the puissance of this deity, because I had not then felt his piercing darts; and I may say, I then lived in content, though in the Court it may seem a thing next to impossibility, amidst the Monsters of Ambition, and Envy, whereof the one flatters with its delusive hopes, while it conspires and plots our utter ruine; the other bytes and knawes our hearts, because that some are happier then our selves. I can assure you, nevertheless, that I was not at all tainted with them, whether my blooming age were yet too green and innocent, or that I were reserved to some more rugged Fate. But since that time, all those dayes which other men have injoy'd with some tranquillity, have been so many hours of misfortune to me; Or if I have tasted some momentory intervals of happiness, I have been sure to pay for those little pleasures, at the dear rate of more continued sufferings: but I am [Page] transported too much with the resentment of my miseries, as if it were my task only to make my moanes, forgetting that you desire to know what has hapned ever since our separation, which that you may the more fully understand, it will be very necessary that I step back a little in my discourse, and begin it farther off.

You know that I was born in Margiana of a family, which, being of the same blood of those Princes that are the Soveraigns, is not a little considerable in that Country: and besides this advantage, the more then ordinary care of my Education was added, I being the only child after twelve years marriage 'twixt my Father and Mother. As soon as I had past my date of infancy, a learned man was sent for from Persia to be my Governor, and to instruct me in those Sciences which are very ordinary in your Country, but somewhat rare in ours: He had the charge to enrich and polish my mind with learning and judgement, whilst another Master had the care to teach me such bodily exercises as were fit for a person of my quality. The great pains they both took in my behalf, was not altogether fruitless. And I may without vanity affirm, that I profited much by their learned instructions: which induced Balden, Our Prince who had a particular esteeme for mee, to oblige my Father to let me be alwayes neer his Son Senisra; and, as there are few at Court that refuse such favours, it was accepted of as a great honour, that I was chosen to be a companion for the young Prince: and whether it were the equality of our Age, or [Page] the assiduous devoirs I rendred him, or only his fair and free inclination, I cannot tell, but he express'd so great and fond an amity, that he would hardly be an houre without me: We passed our time in all kind of divertisements: But one day, when Senisra, being possessed with a profound sadness, would needs injoy himself, without the importunate throng of Courtiers which usually beseiged him, we retired to a Castle called Coupava belonging to my Father. In that vast solitude the Prince began to be acquainted with the nature of his Melancholly, and found that some new entertained thoughts which perpetually invaded his mind, was the sole cause of it; and as he cherished me with much tenderness, he would needs impart this disquiet to mee, and did me the honour to reveale, that since the late assembly and intertainment at the marriage of his Sister, where all the Court Stars appeared in their brightest glory, Themira was still present in his memory, that indeed he had beheld her with more admiration, and entertained her with much more content then any other: that since having seen her again accidentally, he had not been able to guard his heart from a particular inclination it resented for her beauty, nor could he part from her, but with I know not what constraint, which fill'd his bosome with disquiet, whilst he was absent from her.

We were both of us yet so young, we could not guess the name of this new breeding passion, but in a very short time after experience fully taught it us. The short abode we made in that [Page] Castle augmented the Princes trouble, and gave birth to mine. I chanced to see amongst the Captives that were in the Keepers custody, a young Maid, whose handsome meen, and the Majestick features of her face invited me particularly to consider all her actions; the more I studied her person, and demeanour, the more I found her rare, which caused me to bewail her condition. From this compassion sprung up the curiosity, which made me enquire of her Mother of what Country she was, and the sad disaster that brought her into slavery. All that I could then learn was, that at the taking of Sina, she fell into the hands of some of our Souldiers who had sold her to this Keeper, and that her condition deserved no regrets, since it had never been much better than at present. I could not be satisfied with this account, but rather wisht she might have lost many things of advantage and importance together with her liberty, that might have spoken her of a greater quality, though I could not have heard that neither without sorrow; and bearing to the Court, as well the remembrance of her misery, as the Image of her beauty; I considered them both a long time, only with a sence of tenderness and indifferency.

In the mean time, Senisra at our return was fully acquainted, that what before we had been ignorant of, was called Love; and whatever other passion he esteemed that trouble in his soul, he found it answer only to that Name; and in this knowledge he eagerly sought the opportunity to meet Themira: But the first time he came into [Page] her presence his tongue was tyed up in an unusual silence, which put him into such a trouble, as never till then had befaln him, insomuch that he could not salute her without a stammering impediment, and his sudden change would have been easily remark'd, if some Ladies had not put him upon the discourse of his hunting, and those other divertisements, they imagined he had been to seek in the Country. He indeavoured afterwards in many other encounters to behave himself more confidently in her presence, and went sometimes prepared expresly to entertain her in particular, but immediately a sudden inward diffidence controuled his strongest resolutions, so that in two months time all he could do, was rather to express his grief upon his face, then proclaim it with his tongue. He often complained to me, that he knew not what respect hindred him from declaring himself openly. In fine, consumed inwardly with a flame, he could not handsomely bring to light, he resolved to extinguish it absolutely, by not seeing her, knowing her presence only nourished that heat. But when the pleasant season had invited his Mistress to return into the Country, not being able to indure her absence, whose only memory excited such troubles in his breast, he asked me, if I would accompany him to Coupava, that Castle being not far distant from Themira's: I told him it would be a very great honour to me, when ever he would vouchsafe to go there, & to receive him in the best manner that could be; I sent my Father notice of his design, & two dayes after we went, only with such attendance [Page] as might not too much discover us. The whole journey he entertained me with his Amours, and complained of the cruelty of his Fate, in that he fore-saw his Father would never condiscend to it, though Themira should fairly correspond, which he likewise placed amongst his doubts: I mildely told him, he ought to attempt all means and remedies before he yeilded to dispair, and that I could not believe Themira would refuse the honour of his noble affection, she having too great a stock of wit not to discern the infinite advantages might follow, provided she could clearly penetrate his just and honest intentions.

Ariving with the entertainment of these discourses at Coupava, we were somewhat surprized finding Themira there, who accompanied her Mother that was come to visit mine. Senisra was extreamly joyful of that good fortune, but it being already late, the small portion of that dying evening pass'd in usual Complements and civilities. The next morning all the Nobility and Gentry that inhabits near those parts come to pay their obedience to the Prince, and they already talked of nothing but hunting to divert him: when having told them, that he was desirous to taste the sweeter repose of that solitude, every one retir'd to their dwellings, leaving him the free liberty to compleat his design. The first time we attempted to visit Themira, was with my Mother, but their ceremonious respects, and the splended treatment they made for him, hindred him from making known any thing of his passion. The next time we waited on her, he began [Page] to discover some sparks of his great flame, though sparingly; and my Mother and Themira's being retir'd, we remained alone with that beauty, who had the charge to perform the honour of the House, and shew us all the rarities, of which Senisra took so little notice, that although there were very many which deserved a curious survey, and might have challenged our admiration, yet he could hardly be so much the Master of his patience and reason, as to vouchsafe to look on them. Themira who quickly perceived his small complaisance, told him she was extreamly sorry there was nothing worthy his view; yet she wondered not he took so little delight therein, because as it was unworthy of his nobler fancy, so it was an abuse to his patience to strive to entertain him any longer in that dull solitude, it being easie to judge his more choice contentments summoned him back again to Court.

This complement wakened the Princes silence, which his soft passion had rocked into a musing slumber, and obliged him to a reply, rather that he might not be thought incivil, then to shew himself amorous; yet his passion favourably over-biassed his will, and perswaded him to shape his answer in these words. If, as you tell me beauteous Themira, my satisfaction were rather to be at the Court, than in this place, I cannot see what reason could oblige me to leave it; the interest which called me hither, be it what it will, must needs be most powerful still detaining me here: but I know not what strange enigmatical Fate mine is, that having so happily found what I expresly [Page] came to seek, my melancholly is nevertheless augmented. Truly reply'd she, It amazes me to think how it is possible you should be troubled with too much contentment, for I cannot believe you came to seek out trouble. Alas! Madam, answered he, 'Tis the nature of that charm which possesses me, to find no more repose, amidst my joyes, than my afflictions.

I shall wonder now no more, reply'd she, since it is a cause not to be found in nature; You have reason, said he, it is altogether divine; if it were an ordinary thing I might withstand it: but withal Themira, if the Sun be not guilty of their blindness, who too boldly expose their sight to his bright rayes; if the Sea be not culpable of the wracks of those many vessels which voluntarily throw or launch themselves into its watery Empire, what cause can I have to complain of that trouble which I have my self courted and cherished, without the least of its allowance? It belongs to you, alone then, reparted she, to seek the remedy; but, said he, my Cure, as well as my Malady depends on the same Subject; So that although I alone have brought my self into this straight, yet does not the remedy thereof reside within my self. If it be so, answered she, then disclose your grief, perhaps 'tis not a thing insensible like the Sea, or Sun: True, said Senisra, yet nevertheless it is more bright and resplendent then the one, and more unbridled and tempestuous than the other; in fine Themira it is Love, Love! But — he stopt at that word, proceeding no further, and she resum'd the speech smiling, and saying: But [Page] what Sir? Goe on I beseech you—yet, I must condemn my own curiosity, since it may well suffice me to know, that if this place does not contribute any thing to your delights, no more does it adde to your Melancholly. It is true, answer'd he, somewhat troubled, the place of it self would be indeed very indifferent to me, if it did not contain somewhat that might be the blessed subject of my joy, as it is now of my griefe.

The Prince finding himself in so fair a path, endeavour'd to expound his thoughts more intelligibly; and let her know all this discourse pointed at her: But she having a very ready wit, sharpe judgement, and present memory, ever turned the sence of his speech another way: and whether she feigned that she did not rightly understand him, or really believed he only spoke this out of Gallantry and complaisance, she so handsomely warded all his complements, that when we were returned to the Castle, having examined all her behaviour, we could not fathome any thing of her design, or lay hold of the least sillable that might seem to sound favourably on the Princes behalf.

But, not to detain you any longer by this recital of a History, of which I shall mention nothing, which does not some way concerned me, you must know, in fine Sybaris, that Senisra at another time, made an ample declaration of his affection for Themira, who yeilded not immediately; That fair lady resisted for some time, till she found his love was as reall and honest, as it appeared violent: [Page] afterward she consented to entertain his noble affection with all the mutual correspondency that honour would allow of. But for my own part, that passion, that made me sigh for the captivity of the fair slave, inspired me by degrees with a design to lighten her sufferings. To this effect, I desired the Keeper to treat her less rudely then the rest, and not dare to put her to any unhandsome or servile labour, and to make the fellow the more observant, I caus'd an old woman who had been my nurse, to tell him, that my Mother had an intent to take her to her self.

During my residence there. I delighted much to be in the Hall, where she was often working with many others. The pleasure I took in beholding her, made me insensibly waste much time there, whereof Senisra many times asked me the reason, which shame obliged me to conceal: Though I had often told him, how much the beauty and modest gracefulness of this Captive surpassed the rest of them. Themira returning to the Court drew us with her, for my part, I left not Coupava, but with much repugnance, and before I went, I would needs be acquainted with the fair Captives name, and learnt that she was called Ʋneria. At that word Merame, interrupted his discourse, casting his eyes up towards Heaven, after he had set two or three deep sighes at liberty, and then again went on with his relation. That sweet name came as often into my mouth, as her fair Idea into my mind. I often retyr'd into my self to forme it the more lively, and when my imagination had done it's utmost, [Page] I entertain'd my self with these soft whispers, all that I can imagine of beautiful and perfect, is Ʋneria; but what? Ʋneria is a Captive, this reflexion brought no less sorrow, then the brightness of her Image brought content.

A while after my returne to Court, I was informed that a slave belonging to the keeper of Coupava, was come to the City to provide things necessary for his Marriage with Ʋneria. I was more surprized at this novel, then I should have been at a thunder-clap, and as if I had already declared my self for her, I resolv'd absolutely to oppose this match, and not considering any further what could interess me so powerfully, I stole from the Court greedily, and being wing'd with love and anger, rode all that night towards Coupava. I was Infinitely astonished, at my arrival the next morning, to find the Castle empty of all its inhabitants, and my astonishment sweld to despair. When it was told me, that all the people were in the Temple, assisting at the Ceremonies of Ʋneria's Marriage. I was alighted from my horse, but, as if it had been a long journey thither, leaping into the saddle again, I pressed him forward with the greatest speed, towards the Temple, where being hastily entred, I saw the assembly neer an Altar laden with victims, and one of the Priests of the god of Marriage, clasping the hands of the intended husband and Ʋneria's together. I knew not whether the ceremony were already compleated, for the fear I had contracted hindred me from minding that inquiry; but perceiving the Bride melting in tears. I would [Page] needs know the reason, and it was told me, that it was impossible to perswade her to a consent to accept of him, she not giving any other answer, then sighs and tears: and as I would have asked her the cause, she fell down at my feet, and folding her suppliant arms about my knees: Ah! my Lord, cry'd she, protect me against a Tyranny, from which neither the Sanctity of this place, nor the Deity that is adored could defend me: I know the condition of my Captivity obliges me to receive what Spouse is alotted me, upon fair terms; but I do not believe they can constrain me to take an infamous vilain, whom my Keeper hath hired to this purpose, that thereby he may compleat his own ugly designs, desiring to gain the same power over my unstained Chastity, as he hath over my Liberty. The Deity's are Witness of the truths I tell you; and I hope for that protection from your goodness, and authority, which I now conjure you not to refuse to persecuted innocency.

If those words in that mournful accent she pronounced them, were capable to move the most indifferent Spectators, who now began to plead for her, I leave you to judge what deep impressions they made in me; and whether she had need of such powerful Advocates as her eloquent tears to implore a mercy, which I had a more eager desire to grant, then she could have to beg for: I raised her instantly up, and telling her the subject of her sorrow and complaint was too just not to be allowed of; I caused the Ceremony to be abruptly broken off, after I had highly menaced [Page] the Keeper, if ever he gave Ʋneria the least cause to complain hereafter; and putting her into his Wives custody, told her, she should give me a severe account of her. Then my devoirs which called me again to Court, forced me with infinite regrets to leave Coupava, and I got home again the next morning that they might not examine or guess the cause of my absence and journey. But before I parted, I received thanks from Ʋneria's Mother, for the inestimable favour I had rendred her daughter, and promised her to continue my Protection and best service as long as ever they should remain within the Precincts of our jurisdiction.

When I came to my Mothers presence, I related all this story to her, but in such a dissembling manner, that she could not perceive the least interest I had, or that I harboured any other thoughts, but only of equity and charity; which nevertheless moved her to remove them from that lewd fellow, as indeed she soon after did. And—when my Mother took Ʋneria into her house, I received and entertained her in my bosome and heart entirely, and Love soon made me know he was my Soveraign Master.

You may have perhaps learned whilst you were in our Country, that we have a natural antipathy against the Scythians who are indeed born our Enemies: besides the frequent quarrels betwixt Princes for their interest foments that imbred hate; so that if we sometimes put up our Swords, it was but to unsheath them with the more fury afterwards: It seemed, however, that at this time [Page] there was a most firm Peace established; yet, as it is impossible long to smother the flames of a natural fewd and antient animosity, so the frontire Garrisons of either Nation began from some particular differences betwixt their respective inhabitants to blow the covered sparks into an open fire of contention and War, which having [...]een cherished and supplied with sewel from either party lasts even to this day.

Balden our Prince, knowing the mighty preparation the Scythians made against him, finding himself alone too weak to resist those formidable numbers of men which they do ordinarily amass together, sent Ambassadours to the Prince of Sogdiana, to put a period to all their own private differences, and secure their States by a timely union and conjunction of their Forces, which might defend them against the common Enemy, to whom their former unhappy dissentions had given many great advantages, which they had found to their sad prejudice. The Sogdian Prince opened both his arms and heart to welcome this proposition; and to tye up their amity with the most indisoluble bands, he profered his daughter, a beautiful and vertuous Princess to Senisra for a Wife: So that our Ambassadours prospering in their negotiation above their hopes, laden with Presents, returned with those persons whom the Sogdian Prince sent to see the Articles of Peace ratisfied, which we esteemed very advantagious, and particularly for the profered Match betwixt their Princess and brave Senisra. But he, who expected no other but the publick interest in this [Page] agreement, was much astonished that they had engaged him in a business that concerned him so particularly, without ever communicating it unto him: and finding himself driven to this great straight, either of resolving to loose Themira, or renounce this Match; he did me the honour to ask me what course he should take for the establishment of his repose and satisfaction; but I was not in a capacity to give him any solid counsel at that time, having my own heart burdened with as great a freight of trouble. The day preceeding, one of my Uncles came to visit me, and having led me into the Palace Garden; after a short preface, which promised me the highest felicity I could wish for in the world, he told me that Balden had so particular an amity or affection for me, that he would needs have me find out a Mistress for my self, that so we might be sharers in the blessings of his Sons triumph and solemnize our Nuptials on the same day. And if for that end, I had any inclination at Court which were suitable to my quality, I might freely declare it, that they might use their endeavours and care to satisfie Baldens commands and my desires. I was not readily furnished with any other answer, but only that I had hitherto beheld the Ladies at the Court with too much indifferency to have any particular inclination, and that if they would allow me time, I was yet young enough to pass some years thus single, and it would not be too late hereafter to think of such a weighty business; Think of it then on your part, said he, and we will consider of it on ours, and so left me. These [Page] words filled me with more displeasure, then he had flattered me before with hopes. Amidst the strange disorders it caused in me when I was by my self; I nicely examined all that he had spoken, and reflecting on the Ladies of my acquaintance, Ʋneria only came to my thoughts with pleasure, she only inspired me with sentiments of Love, and did seem to me most worthy of affection.

With these thoughts I was carried, where I might behold her to confirm my self in this truth, and I was by her presence fortified in the high opinion I had conceived that my esteem was very rational, and that there was none could deserve so truely to be cherished and prefered. In fine, I resolved with my self to give no satisfaction to my Uncle in what he had proposed, nor to lend any more an ear to such discourses; and so far was I from making any particular address to the Ladies at Court, that I left off that freedom and familiarity I had otherwhile practised amongst them; I was ever of a more sullen humour, and avoided even the conversation of those with whom I had most intimacy.

This change of behaviour was soon taken notice of at Court, where most men are rather apt to pry into others actions, than to regulate their own: every one admired at me, especially knowing it was put to my choice to elect any she I could best fancy. My dearest friends were hugely concerned at my black melancholly, and could not possible imagine that to be the cause of my affliction, which they judged rather might be a just reason to make me rejoyce, but my displeasure [Page] was utterly concealed from them all. Senisra was the only Privado to whom I uncased my mind; but, I found him as sensibly tormented as my self: for having lived hitherto very well satisfied in his affection, he was now fallen into dispair, because his dearest Themira, when he last went to visit her, had nothing but reproaches for his infidelity in her discourse, wherewith to entertain him, instead of those delightful amorous accents she was used to sooth his passionate soul withal at former meetings: And, indeed, in the hot fits of his resentments he would often say, Would to God Merame we were yet both of us free from this Tyranny of Love: you would not then have a Mistress that is a Captive, nor I a Subject, whose haughtiness or cruelty tramples on my affection and submissions; 'tis those alone that thus divert both your devoir and mine from running in the due channel of filial obedience, we owe to our Parents; but your condition is happier yet then mine, you have not yet been treated unhandsomely, or at least unkindly by Ʋneria, as I have by Themira: For having lately understood my Fathers Will touching my Marriage with the Sogdianian Princess; I was so infinitely surprized, that considering how much it traversed my Love and design for Themira, I durst not attempt to visit her for three or four dayes, not desiring to acquaint her with it, till I had found some way whereby to assure her that my fidelity was unalterable: at last, amidst that hurry and distraction which had beset me, not being able to lay hold on any other support but my [Page] own resolved constancy, the only pillar I could rest my hopes on, I went to see her. But, O gods, what a change did I meet with from her; She received me as her Princes Son, not as her fond Lover. I found her in a temper of such cold civility, as made my blood turn even to Ice. This surprize and astonishment, instead of proving my true innocency, appeared to her distrustful eyes, as if it had been the face of guiltiness, which made her anger succeed in these harsh words, which she utter'd in a discomposed tone. Your visage, Senisra, betrayes your intentions, it's alteration and often shifted colour speaks your persidiousness; nor can your conscience which writes its self upon your changing Countenance, suffer your delusions to be hid any longer, which to persist in were a weakness unworthy of any slave, much less a Prince. But what then? I have been as highly presumptuous in my easie faith, as you are reproveable for your hypocrisie: had I never considered you as my Lover, but beheld you alwayes as my Prince, I should have no just cause to wonder, as I do now, in vain, that your heart can adore and pay the full tribute of affection and veneration to this stranger Princess; yet have I reason for complaint however, that you forsake Themira, after you have so solemnly engaged your faith to her; But this is some consolation and retribution, that I can strive to correspond with you in every particular; and it shall suffice me, that you cannot but know, it is the noble heart and vertuous disposition rather makes a Gentleman a Prince, then his Birth or empty Title; [Page] whose blood if tainted, and whose spirit if degenerate, tumbles him beneath the meanest of his Subjects in the records of Fame and Honour. I would have answered her, but that cruell and unjust Lady stopt her car against all my speeches, by which I might have wiped away the aspersion of ingratitude she stuck upon me; and then suddenly quitted me in a place, where I could neither conveniently follow her, nor be moan my self.

The Prince entertained me with this his misfortune, when Balden his Father entred into his Chamber, and spake thus to me, well Merame, what preparations doe you make against Senisra's wedding? you are sad me-thinks, may it not be, that having a long time associated with him, as his most faithful compagnion, and seeing him now provided of a Mistris, and your self without any, you mourn your solitary condition. But if so, or not, I doe not intend that you should only be an idle assistant at the ceremony; but rather help to make up one of the sweetest parts in the full harmony of joy and pleasure, Come follow me, he went forth as he spake these last words, and lead us to his wives Chamber, where catching me by one hand, and taking Gerose the Daughter of his Favorite Hylebas by the other, I doe not believe said he, that you have any objections to make against my design, and your Parents consent; The choice could not be more equal then by this match, nor can you, according to the opinion of every one; live happier then together: may the gods bless you with as much felicity as your hearts can wish.

[Page]Neither of us made any other reply, but a profound obeysance, and I was very glad the many complements we received from those that were present exempted me from those I should have been obliged to make in particular to Gerose, on whom in common civility I was obliged to waite upon to her own lodging, where I quitted her coldly. Being returned to my own apartment, and freed from the importunity of those that did exalt and bless my good fortune, I shut my self up within my Chamber; where, what I either thought or said, during my first transports in that Melancholly Cell, were too tedious to relate. My resolutions, in sine, made me decree to give a cleer discovery of my passion to Ʋneria, and profer her Marriage if she could but consent to love me, as I did her fair self. I left my chamber with this intent to seek her out, and though the night were very much advanced, and most persons retired to their repose, I descended into the Garden by a back way, and softly stealing along the wall to a place close by Ʋneria's chamber, whose windows gave them the full prospect of a long alley. I there made a stand, hoping at least to have the blessing of being neer her person. What can you think, in fine, Sybaris if the effects of my passion? Though the night were muffled up in its thickest clouds, yet I pryed every where hoping to meet the favour of some small beam of light, whereby to discover her: and hearing a voice. I listned attentively and understood it was her Mother, who was thus discoursing to her. I thought, Daughter, that Fate had no more wayes left to afflict [Page] us; and that we were arrived at the last Stage of all our miseries; But I perceive cruell Fortune is not yet glutted with our sufferings. He that had declar'd himself thy Protector, is become thy enemy, and if he espouse (as 'tis to be feared) the Fathers quarrel, with the daughters person, we must resolve to perish. Wherefore, replyed, Ʋneria? If you have been but as religiously secret as my self, we have nothing to fear. Ah my dearest Daughter, answer'd the Mother, those two families being united together by that strict alliance, thou canst no longer hide a face, whose features, though truly innocent, are too too dangerous for thy safety. Mother reparted she, we must commit all to the goodness of the deities, who have preserved us hitherto. We must not pry into the book of destiny, the Characters are not legible to Mortals, and we find every day, that what befals us, is contrary to what we either feared or guessed. Let us live, in the mean time, in hope; and since our arms are too short to unty this marriage knot, those knots, its said, being all made fast in heaven, we will reserve our complaints, if it must be so, till we ly under the Evil that shall fall on us. Her Mother, could not bar her tears from falling at this discourse, and reaching to embrace her, as I perceiv'd by a faint light, she said, Ah worthy Daughter, no, I cannot beleeve, that heaven has given thee such a full stock of vertue and courage, to let thee continue long in this condition.

They said something more afterwards, but whispered it so softly, it did not reach my eare [Page] perfectly: then suddenly after they were wholly silent. Yet I remained fix'd in the same place, with a most greedy attention till day break, and then fearing discovery I return'd to my Chamber: Being thrown upon my bed, I reflected on their whole discourse a thousand times, without being able to comprehend or fathom the depth of it. What, said I, shall I dare believe she spoke of me? and may I flatter my self with this vanity to have had the rarest jewel of nature in my protection? No, no, these words were meant of some other, it being impossible but that I should love her alwayes tenderly, so that if her Protector is become her Enemy, they cannot be addressed to me. Nevertheless, I am he, into whose fortunate arms she cast her blessed self at Coupava; and I am also commanded to marry Gerose: But, what is that particular interest that makes her apprehend this alliance so much? Thus was I weather-beaten 'twixt these several troublesome fears and doubts, when a soft slumber, caused by my over-long watching, and deep pensiveness, stole unawares upon me, and made a happy truce in my minde for some few hours.

'Tis, said Sybaris, the only thing that is not an enemy to us, all nature else declares it self against the unhappy lover, when sleep as a courteous friend many times renders him contented with a pleasing dream, which awake, the whole world denies him: But, alas! 'tis too imaginary and short liv'd a joy, to recompence those daily miseries.

It grew somewhat late, persu'd Merame, and I [Page] was yet bound fast in the easie chains of sleep, when my Father commanded some to call me, that I might prepare myself to receive Hylebus together with his Wife and Daughter whom he had invited to dinner. I had scarce the time to slip on my cloaths, when some of the company arrived, and the pretended Mistress with them, whom I received with the greatest civility and the least affection imaginable. I was forc'd, however, to wear out that day in dissimulation, nay, and many more besides: whilst the frequent blushes that invaded my cheeks, sent thither from my heart as the Messengers of its trouble and perplexity, though imputed to my juvenile modesty, opportunely concealed the indignation, and disdain which a paler face would have told them, filled my breast against all Love for her.

Many dayes slipt thus away er'e I could have a happy tyde of opportunity to entertain Ʋneria in particular; and I took notice that since Hylebas frequented our house, she endeavoured to keep out of our presence and Society. The impatience I was in to speak with her, taught me to send her Mother word by a servant of whose fidelity I had many proofs, that I had somewhat to communicate to her; this Message allarmed her, and brought her quickly to me, somewhat affrighted, where I waited for her, with a no less troubled spirit; but her astonishment grew above both our fears, when I enquired for what cause she and her daughter were of late so closely confin'd, and seemed to be the only two in the whole Family, that express'd no signs of joy for the hopes of my [Page] sudden Marriage, with Gerose? That, for my part, I would continue to be still the same I had promis'd them to be; and if any discontent were the just cause of their retirement, I would engage to procure them all the satisfaction it was possible for me to make them. I had before decreed to break the ice altogether, and acquaint her further; but, then, had not the power to pronounce the blessed name of Ʋneria, so that without any fuller discovery, I left her, after she had answered me, that they had received many favours in our house as great as numerous, and that if they had been so unhappy as not to attend for some dayes past, the service of the Family, and their just devoirs, her Daughters indisposition was the sole and unavoidable cause of it. I was vext that I had not absolutely disclosed my intention, and fearing least what I had told her, might redouble her suspition, as soon as she had left me, I approached their window to hear what report she would make to Ʋneria, to whom she sadly spake in this manner. Well, Ʋneria, had I not reason to fear the sinister adventure I conjectur'd, and couldst thou think the gods would have indued thee with so much constancy, and generosity, but that they knew thou shouldst one day stand in need of it? Merame would never have spoken of his alliance with that Family, in such a manner, if he had not known the certain reason why we evaded the fatal presence of Hylebas so carefully. If Heavens indulgent goodness had but at least preserved Soixa, perhaps he might have found out some happy Stratagem, whereby to have released us [Page] from this Captivity. 'Tis in vain, said Ʋneria, to contend against Fortune, whatever doome the deities have pronounced is no less just the irrevocable; we must submit without reluctancy; and then we shall have this consolation at the least, that although our sorrows like a strong net entangles us on every side, without any hopes of release, yet we doe suffer innocently. The event will declare the will of heaven more clearly, and since there is no griefe so bitter, which the least blessing from above cannot turne into joy and happiness, let us not dispaire, our wounded spirits may yet be cured? and for Merame I esteeme him too brave and generous to lend a hand or heart to the unworthy designs of his Father in Law.

I would stay no longer there, but thought my self sufficiently inform'd wheron to ground a fuller inquiry afterwards, and if I were hitherto very indifferent to Gerose, this inspired me with a mortall aversion for her, as being constrained to act the feigned part of a Lover towards her, who was the daughter of my Ʋneria's capitall enemy. This necessity of dissembling to her did so displease me, that I fell sick of a most violent Feaver. Which kept me prisoner fifteen days together, during which time, the best meanes towards my recovery, was the comfort of Gerose's absence, and the pleasing remembrance of the beautiful Ʋneria, whose interests became extremely dear to me. One day as I walked in the Garden, under a pretence of taking the fresh ayr to perfect my dawning health, but indeed to [Page] have the opportunity to speak to Ʋneria and her Mother. I stept aside, and stole into their Chamber, when there were none, but themselves; and finding them surpriz'd, doe not apprehend my presence said I to them, you have a second Soixa in my person, and I engage, out of a true affection only, to render you all the services that he could possibly pay you: Let not the alliance with Hylebas disturb you, if it oppose your interest, it does no less thwart my inclination, and if the unparralell'd Ʋneria vouchsafe but to accept my faith and hearty service, and doe no longer make the cause of her misfortunes a secret to me, I hope I shall not be uncapable to procure her happiness.

They were both so surpriz'd with this proposition and request, that they could not for the present contrive any answer, so that renewing my discourse and courtship, Is it your diffidence, or wonder at the unexpected novelty of what I tell you, that makes you wrap up your mindes in silence? Ah Ʋneria, if you suspect my sentiments, doe but examine the heart that conceived them, it is in your possession, and you shall evidently find it contains nothing but affection for you. The Mother would have cast her self down at my feet to have answer'd, but having prevented it, she said, we never doubted Sir, of your more then ordinary generosity, we have already found the benefits of it, in many happy trialls, but you may be pleased not to wonder, if having falen already into so many unexpected snares, we feared that which menaced us so evidently. [Page] And since you have so much curiosity and noble care, as to enquire the reasons, I will reveale such things which if made known to any other, but your worthy self, might hazard our very lives: But I doe gladly find, that heaven has placed us under your protection, as the Tutelary Angel of a family broken and ruin'd by Hylebas, of whom, as I beleeve and have too many reasons to fear, we are at present the only sad remainders.

Sina is the place of our birth, Ʋneria had the Prince of that great City for her Father, and I for my brother; If you have ever heard by what accident it fell under your Princes power, you may know, that the Army which beseiged it was commanded by Hylebas, who for his private interest, and to revenge some corrections for his youthful insolencies, engaged Balden in that war. He had formerly made a vovage into Persia, to learn in their famous Academies those vertues which he never put in practise. At his return, be made some stay in our City, where his condition being known, he was very civilly treated in all companies, As then he was but young, and truly more compleat in garb and person then in judgment or wit; for manners obliging him to waite upon the Prince Dizman, and his wife Mayrem, he instantly transgressed in that respect that was due to them both. As soon as he beheld that Lady, whose rare perfections had gained this general acknowledgment thorow all Asia, that nature had never brought forth so great a miracle there, as she was, he was inflamed towards [Page] her, but with so impure a heat, as that glorious Planet had never produc'd in any soul, but his. For the Majesty of her adored face, had ever imprinted and inspir'd as much respect and veneration as love: only the heart of Hylebas was susceptible of that unlawful wild-fire; and he brute man, had so much presumption, as to beleeve what ever he undertook in that design would prosper as he wisht it. This made him abide there longer then he intended, during which time, he displaid all his wit and gallantry▪ which nevertheless was no better received or esteemed then at the highest rate of pride and folly. Perceiving, in the end, that his confidence had deluded him, and that Meyrem had so severe a vertue, as would not stoop or give indeed the least audience, to his desires and passion; to attain his pernicious design, he resolved to take in the assistance of inchantments to allure or quell that vertuous Lady's heart, as full of honour as his was of lust.

As there are many in that Country who make a particular profession of Magick, it was easy for him to come to the knowledge of an old woman, who was reputed to be very skilful in that Art; to whom he discover'd his black soul, that she might the better suit her black experiments to it: and that sorceress having, in fine, promis'd him the effecting of what he so greedily desired, by her witchcraft, he thought to seal up her lips with a gold signet which he bestow'd upon her: but his profusion by which he thought to conceal his plot, was that which brought it first to discovery: [Page] For this old covetous witch imagined, that if so much were given to hide a secret, others would be as liberal if she reveal'd it: and considering with her self, that what she had already in possession was her own and could not be retir'd, it would be both more safe and profitable now to gain a new Fee by detecting him, and saving her self from danger, into which possibly the performance of what she had then undertaken might let her fall. She hastned therefore to a publick Magistrate of the City, and informed him that a stranger of quality had been to solicite her to contrive a mischief as much beyond her power as well to perpetrate; but because he might probably address himself to some other more cunning and less honest to bewitch or charme Meyrem to love him as he desired; her tender heart had moved her to give him this honest advertisement, that so he might acquaint Disman and prevent Hylebas. The interrogatories they more particularly put to this woman, soon brought the whole mystery of iniquity to light; but the business being tetchy, and his condition too lofty to prosecute him the ordinary way for such discoveries: They judged it more politique to lay hold of that woman, then to charge it upon him, whereby he finding his design disclosed, might of himself quit the Town, fearing the just resentments it might awake against him. All succeeded as they had judiciously conjectured; he left the City, but did not give over his unworthy project. At that time he made war upon the Scyth [...]ans, and his Father in its first beginning [Page] was general, to which high command himself succeeded. Your Enemies, who were already advanced far into our Country, taking their advantage pillaged us most strangely. We made our just complaints, but for satisfaction returning us no other answer but this only, that our neutrality was suspitious to them, and that they would still treat us as Enemies, unless we would openly declare our selves; This violence quickly obliged us to take up Arms, but it was to side with yours; and our Forces being thus united decreased the Enemies much, so that for four years successively, we counter ballanced that conquest which manifestly inclined to their side before.

These Martial employments how ever, did not take Hylebas off from the thoughts of attaining his impure desires. He attempted to steal away Meyrem by the assistance of some Scythians whom he had hired to that end, because it might not be suspected he was the Author of so unhandsome an enterprize; but she being ever attended with a numerous Guard, all those Setters forfeited either their lives or liberties in the attaque; and one Officer of the Crew, hoping thereby to obtain his freedom, confessed they were set on by Hylebas, and had acted nothing but by his appointment and order. Dizman was presently made acquainted of it, who had already found much backwardness and discontent amongst his [...]ouldiers, who though they were still set to cut out the toughest work, had alwayes the least pay and plunder, which your General retained to himself. [Page] Though he had much ado to quell and keep in his indignation, yet he would not pull off the vizard of dissimulation till he heard you had a clandestine Treaty on Foot with the Scythians, then he thought it tameness to bridle it any longer; wherefore waiting with Hylebas to confer about their Warlike affairs, he complained that his good affection was very ill requited; that they ought not to treat their associates as if they were Stipendaries, but that all should share equally as well in the benefits of Treaties and Agreements, as in the Troubles and Dangers they had participated largely in: Hylebas, answered him very coldly, that having never done nor treated any thing, but what he was a Witness of, he could not but wonder at this discourse. Nevertheless, reply'd Dizman, you cannot hinder the change in your countenance from witnessing against you, nor had I voted in the design of surprizing Meyrem, to which purpose you employ'd the Scythians. This made Hylebas blush yet more, how ever with a quaint expression he reply'd, I understand not what you mean: you should do well to be assured of such things before you give any credit to them: if you speak with more truth, you would allow it more ingennity and plainness. Say what you please, return'd Dizman, but I have spoken no Enigmaes but what you may unfold; nor can you deny the verity of these reproaches without a manifest falshood, which this shall vindicate when we meet in a place convenient to dispute our interest, said he, shewing his Sword. Those that were present could not prevent this [Page] disorder, though they calm'd their swelling passions from flying higher for a time. Two dayes after, the Generals quarrel had interressed the Souldiers, and that put them into dissentions. This dissention provoked them to words, and these injurious words begot blows. The Officers hastned to appease the tumult, but Hylebas, finding himself well accompanied, instead of appeasing the broil, charged ours so furiously that they were fain to give ground, till Dizman put them forward by his presence and example: whose courage and heat did so quell your men, that they had much ado by their retreat to save themselves, or their General Hylebas, who received many wounds from our Princes own hands This affront out deeper than his Sword, and therefore dispatching a Messenger to Balden, he so disguised the whole action, that we were charged with all the guilt and blame, as the sole Authors of this mutiny: and your General received express Orders to conclude a Peace with the Scythians, and by their assistance to take a full revenge upon us. Dizman, who well foresaw what would befall, had caused our Army to retire, and gave sudden command for fresh Levies, to be in the better posture to receive his Enemies. But before he could prepare what was fit, Hylebas marched with his Army, and the assistance of three thousand Scythians, and laid close siege to Sina. Though we were unprovided, yet he lost much time, pains and men, and nothing but his treachery had success. The Daughter of that old Hag, whom he would otherwhile have employ'd to enchant Meyrem, was [Page] then so besotted with love of Hylebas, that her passion and ignorance made her imagine, his affection to Meyrem was the only obstacle that did hinder his return of love to her again, so that she beheld that Princess as her rival only. When she saw Hylebas so near the City, her desires grew hotter at that her amorous Planets approach, and her hatred became so violent against Meyrem, that she had the confidence to undertake the delivery of the Garrison into his hands, upon condition he would satisfie her wishes, which she presumed she partly deserved long before, but much more if she atchieved that exploir.

Hylebas, who had often felt the fury of our allies, was very eager to redeem his bleeding honour at so easie a rate, and therefore willingly promis'd all that her longing heart could prompt her to demand of him. The Gold Signet her Mother had received of him, and the addition of wealth bestow'd by Dizman for their discovery, had so well furnished her, that she was married to the Officer who kept the keyes of the City Gates. Whose priviledge did much facilitate the means her passion had suggested to her, to let in some of the Enemies Troops into the City.

Though she were married, yet was she very amorously persecuted by a young man, whom she began to sooth with hopes, and in short to promise him what he sued for if he at an appointed time, could but find the means to cast her husband into a sound sleep, which since the siege began he seldome gave way to. Love, as you may take some notice of, would be the only fatal Minister [Page] of our ruine. This fellow immediately procures a strong somniferous draught, which she first made trial of on some other, and being now provided, she sent word to Hylebas that she expected him punctually at midnight, at the East Gate, which he should find open and no Guards to oppose him.

At night to make her promised treachery good, she mixed some of that potion in her Husbands drink at his supper, and was as careful to bestow some of it on the Souldiers which had that Port that night: and at the time appointed she waited at the place assigned whilst the whole Guard were in a profound sleep. Hylebas failed not to send a party first to make sure of the Gate, which being possessed and he advertiz'd of it, he advanced with speed commanding his Troops to follow with the stricktest silence imaginable: and being enter'd the Town by this wile, he gave orders to put every one to the sword that should make the least opposition.

The Inhabitants and Souldiers were so surprized at the terrible alarm, that seeing no body make head, he easily marched directly towards the Palace, whither Love, Hatred and Revenge, led him with fury and precipitation.

Imagine a Troop of enraged Wolves, that had strangled the drowzy dogs set to guard a flock, rushing into the sold, where those timerous, but innocent creatures, thought themselves as safe, as they were strongly guarded: such was the poor Peoples confusion, the Souldiers disorder, and the Princes amazement, who nevertheless caused [Page] the by streets to be instantly chained and barricado'd, but to no end, the multitude that hurry'd towards his Palace as their last refuge and Sanctuary, broke them soon down again, and left the way open for his men to draw up in a great place which faced it. There Hylebas began to cry out Victory, and that his blackest actions might be apparent, though Heaven had hid its self with the thickest curtains of Clouds; that ignoble General, caused the contiguous buildings to be fired, that the obscurity of the night might not hide from him the objects of his vengeance. Dizman, finding the loss of the City was inevitable, and willing at least to save what was dearest to him in the world, ran to Meyrems Chamber which looked towards the Sea, where but a few dayes before, she was delivered of Ʋneria: and conjuring her to embarque her self immediately in a Ship which lay at Anchor just before them, he promis'd to follow her immediately. That generous Lady, answered him, no otherwise, but that whatever she did, she neither would fly or save her self but with him: and if he must dye, she would as chearfully dye, as she had lived with him: that she would not complain of her own Fate how severe soever, provided her children were but safe; and hastily putting Ʋneria into my hands, with a shower of flowing tears, and her son Zarif, a child of two years old, into her Husbands, go, said she, to us, embracing us with tenderness mixt with courage, and so much love as cannot have its full expression, save these dear and innocent creatures at least; and would to [Page] Heaven this might not be the last of our adieu's! The noise of those that enter'd pell-mell into the Chamber unty'd those sad embraces, and drove us down a pair of secret stairs to the Ship which received us. Meyrem, as I have been since informed, notwithstanding her weakness and indisposition disguising her Sex, armed her self that she might go and relieve her Husband, who expired before her face, pierc'd with a thousand wounds.

That woful object which had doubtless been able to blunt the highest courage, did but whethers, grown indeed less vigorous by some blood exhausted from her, precious veins, so that hearing Hylebas, who had discovered her give command to take her alive, she forced her way thorow those that were about him, who in obedience to the command their General had given them, fearing to kill her, hindred her not from joyning him; and rushing upon him with the like fury as a Lyoness would do on him who had rob'd her of her whelps: Traytor, said she, striking at him, dost thou command them to save my life, that I may take my just and full revenge on thee; know at least, that though I cannot redeem my Husband from death, yet I can dye with honour for his sake: two full blows she discharged upon him, which made him stagger, and dispenc'd his Souldiers from longer obedience, who presently flew on her in multitudes, yet could they not hinder her from making way till she came to her dear Husbands dead Corps, on which she made a sad shift to cast her self and die.

We being now in formed by certain other small [Page] Barks, that we were closely persued, and that to glut his rage, the bloody Hylebas had given strickt orders being come again to himself, that we should be sought for every where with diligence, thought it safest to go on shoar at the first place we could make land, which we did changing our habits, and suddenly parting from each others, that we might not be taken altogether, in case they should hear of us. But as the decree of Fate is inevitable, Ʋneria and my self fell into the power of some who were ranging about the Coasts for a prey; and we were afterwards sold to the Keeper of Coupava, whilst my Husband, who had more strength and agility, saved himself in a little wood near hand with Zarif, whither they likewise follow'd him, but how they fared I never since could have the least tydings.

And this, Sir, is the sad history of our misfortunes; the remainder of our disconsolate lives is not unknown to you, and we are now more happy in your goodness and esteem, then our best hopes could ever fairly promise, since after so long a silent and mournful Captivity and concealment, you have unpinion'd our restraint and given us leave to breath our sorrows by lending so curteous an ear to this doleful relation.

This story mov'd my very soul to compassion, but I was yet more transported by those tears the fairest Ʋneria let fall, whilst her Aunt made the relation of it. Nor could I keep mine from breaking prison, before I had exprest my self thus to her: Ah! Madam, what cause have I given you to cherish so ill an opinion of my person; why did [Page] you not sooner make me acquainted with your sufferings, since you could not be ignorant how much I might have lightned the too too heavy chains of your Captivity. Can it be possible you should not have perceived the vehement heat of my love for you? though I have kept it still under the lock and key of a timerous silence; yet my flame having been as bright as chaste and discreet, might well have been guess'd by you: and since you knew that I have acted nothing for Ʋneria, which any indifferent Judge would not have construed more an effect of passion and affection then common charity, why have you made your fear or scorn the cause of your own sufferings, and those torments my own restraint has put upon me? But I should never mention my own troubles, did I not lye under the guilt of having left her, who was the blessing of my heart, so long under Captivity in my own Fathers house: and then, perfidious Hylebas, do not believe, thou hast scaped the justice of the gods, Heaven has defer'd its punishments only to make it fall the heavier on thee, for though Divine Justice comes but slow, yet it comes sure, and I believe and hope that I am chosen the just Minister of it, which I shall inflict with so much the more security, as the interests of Ʋneria are dearer to me than thy Gerose. It depends but upon you my Princess, said I, addressing my self to her, to allow of it; and if you will not command me to execute it, for my own respects, yet let me do it for justice and your illustrious Parents sakes: a deep sigh, which she fetch'd from her heart, as the Prologue [Page] to her following discourse, imposed a willing silence on my tongue, whilst she spake thus. Merame your promising goodness, which perswaded my Aunt, to tell you the sad tale of our misfortunes, does likewise encourage me to accept of those fair proffers you have made to me: I shall not therefore demur, but accept of them in the best manner my unhappy condition admits of now, I meane, rather under the notion of protection then of service. And yet, reply'd I, if you would but consider your present condition in relation to me, you will soon find it speakes you mistress and Soveraign of my soul; but perhaps, you find it an unhappiness, that persons of more power and greater quality then my meanness are not present to serve you. Not so, answer'd she, for besides that I am too well acquainted with humility and my own abasement to harbor so uncivil an inmate as pride, so I have already received too great a sum of obligations from your bounty to be so ingrateful; and I assure you, that if I cannot make you a full retribution for your favours, you must impute it more to my want of Fortune, then good will.

This happy declaration and condescention to love was concluded with as much satisfaction as I had ambition or love; and I took a resolution to search out some confiding friend, who might ransome this illustrious Captive out of her thraldome. Her confinement infinitely troubled me, yet was I forced to defer it a while and cloak my griefs. During this restraint, all the happiness [Page] I could reap, was to entertain her daily with my reiterated vowes and promises, and this somewhat abated the displeasure I suffer'd in the necessity of seeing Gerose, towards whom she enjoyned me, not to express any aversion, nor could I afford her any sillable of pretended affection.

In fine, the Age of winter being much increased, I understood of the preparations were makeing to receive the Princess of Sogdiana, whom Balden was to send for by extraordinary Ambassadours. I intreated her to let me cast about for some meanes whereby to free myself from Gerose, whom I was already bid to look upon, as her, that was to be my wife, within the short date of two months. The business press'd us equally, and this urgent necessity made me soon vote the resolution to declare myself openly an Enemy to Hylebas, thereby to unty the chain of Marriage and alliance with his daughter. He had a Son name Zadarem, in whose company I was to goe to meet the now young Princess: His humour was as little pleasing as his Fathers, being nothing but a meer timpany of Pride; he had few friends at Court, as being one whose favour any man would have esteemed too dearly purchast at the cheap price of a complement: yet thought himself too eminent to be so familiar as to receive them in quality of friends or associates. He had been otherwise extravagantly amourous of Themira, and because she had treated him beneath the merits he fancied in himself, his angry love was turned into hate, which made him take occasion to disoblige and affront her all he could.

[Page]Whilst Senisra stood fair with Themira, the least concern'd had taken notice by those assiduous addresses he made to her, that he took a more then ordinary delight in entertaining her; but his descreet behaviour rather made them guess then certainly know his purpose and desires; Only Zadarem, who lookt upon't thorow the Perspective of love and jealousy, had more perfectly descried his mind; and led on by his passion, he wrought so far by his impostures upon Themira's spirit, that she at last was possessed with the belief of her Princes infidelity, as you have already understood: and he likewise had informed Balden that the inclination his son had to Themira, was the only cause he exprest so little joy and willingness to have the Princely virgin. Balden having exactly informed himself in this particular of so grand concernment, had prohibited Senisra upon the penalty of his severest displeasure not to see Themira any more, whom he also expresly commanded to confine her self to her country habitation, to which her own troubled fancy had already caused her to retreate.

The time being come, that we were to goe fetch the Sogdian Princess, I went to take leave of Senisra, and then communicated the plot I had laid to spring up some occasion of contest with Zadarem, whose ill contrived behaviour promis'd me subject enough. He condiscended, in fine, to let me lay hold of fortunes forestep to free my self from my Gerose, and assured me of the honour of his protection and power on al occasions, [Page] or accidents, and withall to give order in my absence for my Ʋnerias liberty, which he soon after nobly procured. No sooner were we arrived in Sogdiana, and had paid our civility to the Princess, who was indeed rich both in beauty and vertue, but Zadarem began amongst the praises he showred upon her, to let fall some drops of Medisance and slander upon Themira's reputation: he went every where proclaiming that the Prince needed not so much regret her loss, since the chaster flames this worthy Lady might kindle in his heart, could not but extinguish those lighter fancies and caresses of a Mistris. This malice was so apparent that every one ressented it as very scandalous, there was not any in our company that was not well acquainted with the fair Themira's unsoyl'd vertue, and had valour and will enough to assert it; but they all flung their looks on me, who am allyed to her, expecting I should ty up his insolent tongue from bespattering her with such abuses. One day after I had mildly reproved him, he had the impudence to ask me, whether the Prince had so far loved me, as to let me share with him in that gentle fortune, since I took upon me to vindicate him; and if so, that he had yet so much discretion left in stock, as not to wake his sisters jealousy with the report of it; and when I reply'd, that I had no farther interest in her, but only what every Gentleman would be oblig'd to for his kindred, to preserve their reputation, which therefore engaged me not to hear a person of her high worth so unhandsomely calumniated; [Page] he promis'd me, but in a kind of raillery, that since it concerned me so neerly, he would be very careful hereafter not to let fly any thing that might call up my anger: which nevertheless he did not observe; He could not restrain his itching tongue from publishing a hundred wanton Tales, and noised the ressentment I had shown, which I was forc'd to pocket up till we were returned into Margiana, as unwilling to violate that respect we owe to stranger Countries.

The same day we had passed the confines of Sogdiana, about the evening I accosted him, and having led him to a private place, where I before had sent a gentleman with two weapons, I desired him to make choice of one, and I would take the other. The unexpectancy astonisht him more then the danger of the combat; but as he was truly valiant, after the preparation of a few words, we proceeded to blowes; he defended himself with as much skill and courage as I assaulted him; I received and gave several wounds, but, in fine, justice being in my armour, I gain'd his sword with this advantage of being able to goe off my self, whereas he lay extended with small hopes of life, which made me send to his servants to goe and fetch him thence.

In the interim, to secure my self, I posted back from whence we came that day, and secured my self in a Castle belonging to a Sogdian gentleman, whose friendship I had purchased by some civilities in his Princes Court. The news of this duell which brought astonishment to every one that heard it, cut deeper in my parents minds then [Page] any accident that ere befel them, they having promised themselves the best of fortunes in my alliance with Hylebas: whereas now Balden having examined the ground of our quarrel, vow'd he would satisfy the just ressentments of his favorite by our utter ruine. I secretly made Senisra acquainted with the place of my retreate, and the same moment wrot a letter to Ʋneria, by which I conjured her to bless me with her presence at an appointed place, within ten dayes time, that so my troubles might not be without some allay of hope and consolation; and that from thence we would goe to Bactriand: But because I was to goe thorow a part of Baldens Territories to reach this place, I shrowded my self in a disguize so strange, that I blinded all suspition and discovery. Being at the exact time most prosperously arrived▪ I lighted on a person whom she had charged to give me notice that she was reposing her self in a place but very little distant thence, where she had borrow'd the benefit of a friendly shade, till the excessive heat of the day were wasted, and being big with impatience to reach thither, I hastned to horse and in my desires flew swiftly towards the place.

What think you now, Sybaris, of this meeting? doe you not presume I must be very happy in it? yet ô gods, how are you mistaken? if you guess so, you wander in a mistake; and miss the truth, as much as I did my hopes; I was soon alighted indeed, and approached her with a becoming ceremony, and she advanced to receive me in her blessed arms; when the strangest accident imaginable, [Page] snatch'd her away, before I had the time to be let into her imbraces! a Troop of villains issuing out of a neighbouring wood, greedily ceazed on those were neerest to them: Ʋneria was the first prey they lighted on, and her they hurried away before my eyes. Pardon me Sybaris, that I cannot keep in these unruly sighes which interrupt my discourse. The sad, yet sweet remembrance of that fatal enterview does almost sting my soul by the remembrance of it now, as it did when it happened. The transport I was in, wing'd me with hast and fury after those wilde ravishers, with my drawn sword, but being then on foot, they galloped into the thickest of the wood, which soon sheltred them from my longing eyes. I ran amazedly sometimes one way, then another, according as their doleful cries directed me, often hearing my dear distressed Ʋneria implore and summon her Merame for assistance. That voyce hastned my pace, but soon after, when the greater distance had lost her to my Ear, as well as Eye, my breath and strength took flight after her, and left me to fall under my own weight: where I lay without motion, till the noise of some horses which pass'd by, having rowz'd me, I perceived turning my head that way, that one of those fellows fled with a woman in his armes, whom I discerned to be Ʋnerias Aunt: He passing back again neer the place, where I was unseen by him, I caught his horses bridle, and at the same instant gave him so full a blow with my sword, that he soon tumbled off with the woman, whom I was striving to convey away in the wood to shelter [Page] her from the rest: when they came rushing so suddenly upon me, I was fain to leave her to provide for my own safety. I made all the resistance a desperate man could levy, but was at last press'd down under their numbers. I fell betwixt their horses feet so full of wounds, they thought that to take me up, was but to burthen themselves with a dead carkass: so they only took away Ʋnerias Aunt, whose fear and amazement had kept her in a continual fainting. I remember the effusion of so much blood as I lost so enfeebled me, that the cryes and languishing lookes I endeavoured to send after them, were soon wrapt up in a deadly swoon together with the rest of my sences. Some of Ʋnerias, company, who by a generous resistance had saved themselves out of their hands, entring the wood to seek more unhappiness then they desired to find, lighted on me in a condition that promised but little hopes of life. How-ever, they bound up my wounds to stanch the streames of blood, and took me up to carry me to the Citty, and as they feared, to my grave at once. Whilst they were going, the agitation having a little reviv'd my spirits, I sent forth a sigh, which faintly told them there was yet some remainder of life dwelling in me, but no more, then to shew I was still dying. In this beleef, as soon as they entred the Citty, they took councel about my interment, and endeavour'd no longer to conceal whom I was. The Governor heard by their publick regrets that 'twas Merame they mourned for, and presently dispatch'd away a Messenger to advertize [Page] Balden of it, who after the death of Zadarom had given orders to all the Frontire Garrisons to ceaze me.

Amongst those whose curiosity had invited them to see me, there hapned to come a very expert Chyrurgeon that had formerly been my Fathers houshold servant: This man desired leave to search my wounds, and not finding any of them mortal, judged that it was only the loss of so much blood at once, had brought me to so feeble a condition; wherefore finding some sparks of life and warmth still in me, he assay'd to revive me by some potent Cordials, which he employ'd unhappily for me, since his conjecture had not deceived him. He felt my heart begin to beat a little, and some small dawning appearances in my face, which made him proceed to such further applications as restored me once more to my sences. The first apparent sign I gave them, was a languishing look, which I sent as my only readiest Messenger to seek for Ʋneria; and that was seconded by my tongue which at its first motion call'd upon her Name: but when I had gather'd a little more strength and found my self in that condition amidst so many strangers, and began to remember how I had lost her. Oh gods, cry'd I, can I be yet alive, and she that is my soul be ravished from me? Then turning my eyes on those were helping to dress my wounds, who desired me to be quiet, Friends said I, you are more cruel than those Villains that hurt me, it was not without some reason they would have slain me, after they had deprived me of her for whom only I [Page] lived; And you, whose mercy has less pity than their cruelty, you would force me to live without her, who alone can make my life a [...]lessing to me: Restore me my Ʋneria, or all your care is superfluous, and what your Art can do is only to keep my unwilling soul for some few moments in this ruinous body, which cannot long subsist being separ [...]ted from its better self: do not make me languish therefore, if you truly love me, but suffer my spirit to quit this troublesome abode, and being uncaged take its flight, where only happiness without disturbance can be enjoy'd for ever.

Notwithstanding all these requests and moans, their care and remedy's brought me by soft degrees to strength again; When finding I must live, I resolv'd to bend all my endeavours to a research of the lost Ʋneria: and was already considering the way to set about it, when all my hopes were again snatched from me. Hylebas had some correspondants in this City, who gave him notice of my begun recovery; and that Traytor, whom I may justly stile the plague of my life, did immediately renew the Governours Order to lay hold of me, who came himself, and shew'd it me sign'd under Baldens own hand, excusing himself that his office obliged him to execute this Commission, contrary to those real desires he had to do me service.

As soon as they thought me healthy enough to undergo the fatigue of a journey, they conducted me with a Troop of Horse to Bacheher, where I was thrust into a Tower, in which they ordinarily kept their prisoners of quality. My Father and [Page] Mother with my nearest relations had once the liberty to come and visit me: Senisra, who was now married to the Princess I formerly mentioned, could not obtain it, and what ever endeavours he made to procure my pardon, they could not bow the angry Balden to pitty; who notwithstanding had not declar'd how he would deal with me, but whose concealed fury, shook my friends hearts with fear, having indeed some more then ordinary reason to fear that clap of thunder, which so long threatned to break forth against me, yet kept its lightning still cover'd with a Cloud.

During the afflictions of my imprisonment, sometimes the lively remembrance of my beautiful Ʋneria invaded my melancholly thoughts and gave them cause to make me rejoyce; but when from her bright face, I let fall my thoughts on her black destiny, turning the other side of the leaf to read our misfortunes, my sorrow swell'd above the power of comforts to allay, and then my sighs and tears were too abundant to be exprest in words. What shall I say more, Sybaris, when as if there had yet wanted one weight of sorrow more to sink me to the bottom of misery and dispair; One of those that were taken with her, having made his escape came into this disconsolate Prison, to tell me such sad tydings as utterly extinguished the least glimpse of hope I had yet remaining in me. He assured me, that those Thieves had found Ʋneria so rarely handsome, that they had consulted to make a glorious present of her to their Prince, who had a Pallace [Page] filled with beautiful slaves, in which they were confined to satisfie his wanton pleasures, and that Ʋneria having understood their [...]esign, conceiving so piercing a sorrow, that it converted into an accute Feaver, which quickly caused her death, for whom the Scythians had so much esteem and veneration, that to express their regrets for her loss, they had erected a very stately Monument for her, which he had often seen and lamented over.

The recital of this funest adventure, struck me into the deepest silence possible for a long while: It ceaz'd upon my reason too, and made me so much loose the helm of judgement, I was like to run and Shipwrack upon dispair: so that I sought for some weapon, wherewith to put a period to that heap of miseries, which I could bear no longer on my tortur'd bosome: But finding that means was deny'd me, I had recourse to my complaints: Ha! what said I, does Balden withhold the execution of his vengeance only to make me linger in my miseries? Is his cruelty become so witty, to make me taste a thousand deaths for one? must I yet live upon this wrack of torments, and not be allow'd the mercy of a sudden death? Cruel and inexorable Butcher, you have now found out the way of full revenge indeed, by suffering me still to live in a condition that has more of horrour than many deaths could frighten me withal; and thou, blest soul, do not thou charge me with backwardness and want of Love and courage; thou seest I search out all the wayes I can to follow thy too hasty flight: and since I [Page] am yet bound under the sad necessity of staying longer than my soul desires, comfort me with thy blessed spirit, that I may not be left thus still alone with those wild thoughts: and here again my griefs came flowing in so fast, they quite choakt up the passage of my speech: I was thus a long time mute, and that Gentleman taking at last his farewell, left me rather in the possession of my sorrows than my reason.

A few dayes after Senisra sent a Gentleman to comfort me, whom I intreated to tell the Prince, that the only favour he could procure me, would be, not to follicite any longer for my pardon, but to joyn his pursutes with those of my Enemies to hasten my end; and that, as this was the last, so it would be the greatest favour I could implore, and the most welcome honour his mediation could confer upon so miserable a person.

Contrary to the prayer of this Petition, that Generous Prince, fearing some sinister accident from this dispair, beg'd of his Father so earnestly, that he obtain'd permission to give me a visit▪ He found me in a posture which begot as much wonder as compassion in him. My Chamber was very obscure, having only the faint light of one little window which I had half vail'd over with a Curtain. I was thrown on my bed, my arms crossing my breast, my eyes fixt upwards and so weather-beaten with the storms of tears that bubbled from those springs, and my visage so melancholly, wan and discomposed from its natural dress, that he might well mistake me, as he did, and think his feet had led him unawares, into some doleful [Page] Cell, where only grief and mourning kept their disconsolate Court; my thoughts had buried my mind in such a deep sence of my Calamities, that I did not perceive when he entred into the Chamber, so that he came close to me without discovery; and after he had gaz'd some time upon me, I turn'd my head that way, and look'd upon him with an eye so full of trouble, that he believed it furious. Being first amazed to behold me in so woful a condition, and perceiving me immoveable, his pitty made him first salute, then call upon me, when finding I made no reply, he proceeded thus to rowze me by a gentle check, Is it thus Merame, you mean to receive and slight the visit of Senisra, and is it so importunate as to deserve this silence and these forbidding looks? these words brought him to my knowledge, and striving to salute him, I hardly had the strength to shew it, by a little inclining of my head: which I follow'd with these languishing accents, Noble Senisra, the infinite sorrows that overwhelm me, are the cause of my incivility: but what Ceremonies can you expect from a man equally in dispair of life and death, who during the violent agitation of this perpetual agony does neither live nor dye? a combat so much the more cruel, because it continues so long in one poor heart, and does not yet quite burst it. Gods! how merciless are your decrees against me; why should you thus delight to oppose all my happiness, and will not send death, after you have curst my life, and blasted all my just designs, which how unhappily they have succeeded you can judge: I drew Ʋneria [Page] from my Mothers house with the fond hopes of delivering her from a Captivity, which was more advantagious, then that liberty afterwards prov'd to be: If I justly revenge her injuries on the destroyers of her worthy Family, and her own sweet repose, that becomes the ground work of all my misfortunes; when I imagine I am going to embrace her, and graspe the highest felicity in my arms, I find it rudely snatch'd away, and she hurry'd to her fatal end, whil'st I am left the sport to Destiny, and example of the greatest sufferings mortality ever tasted of and lived under. Cruel thoughts, sorrowful remembrance, which stings my very soul with bitterness, that I my self should be the sad cause of hers, and thereby my own utter ruine! had I not better have continued to love and adore her in silence? But oh — Here the Prince interrupted me, and mildly said, Cease from becoming yet more guilty by your loud murmerings: you must not blaspheme against so sage a conduct as that of Heaven; Are the gods tyed to let fall prosperity on all our actions and purposes? no, they more wisely do dispose, of what we commonly propose most wildly to our selves: Nor should we think our selves so harshly dealt with, did we but well consider, how lamely we go about most, if not all our designs, and how we swerve from those strickt rules of Vertue prescribed us to walk in, to attain our just ends: Is it possible, Merame, that when you intended to fight with Zadarem, you should not plainly foresee, my Fathers heat of passion and anger, since you so soon fled from it? and who had ensured Ʋneria's [Page] safety in her journey to meet you? the attendance appointed to convey her, did not that shew what fears you had she might fall into those misfortunes, did afterwards unhappily light on her? Believe me, Merame, you do ill to complain so much for having reap'd those thorns your self had planted: your misadventures cannot be unravel'd again, I mean those that are past, do not kick at Heaven, but mildly submit to what Fate and your self have cast upon you: 'tis better yeilding obedience to the gods, than call more anger down by a rebellious impatience. I, you know, made some opposition against my destiny, but in vain, we must bow down our stubborn wills at last, therefore strive to content your self with what Heaven does. The love, the Prince shew'd, in his affectionate and rational discourse recalled my reason back to her first temper; I found, indeed, I gave my self up to dispair unnobly, and with much weakness; and before he parted I promis'd him to suck at every flower that could but promise the least probability of yeilding any comfort to me. He, afterwards sent very often to visit me, and had obtained so much favour, that my chains of close restraint were drawn out to such an extent of liberty, that I might now walk freely in a wide Park adjoyning to my Prison, where frequently my friends came to give me comfort, and helpt to wear out the tedious hours I spent in my confinement. One day, whilst it was yet very early, a Gentleman came to me from Senisra, and told me, with a smiling countenance, which gave me hopes of some approaching [Page] joy, that it was time to chear my self, since that black news of Ʋneria's death, was dispel'd by a most certain news discovery how she was still alive, to witness which, he presented me a Letter deliver'd him the foregoing night. This sudden transport from a depth of sorrow, to such a height of joy, had almost made me loose my self in wonder: and, not minding or caring, indeed, how, or by whom this Paper Embassy was come to hand, I kiss'd it many times first, and then tore it through impatience to read its Contents. I yet keep that precious pawn of her affection, which, I may say, was signed with her blood. But since I cannot behold or read it without a prologue of tears, oblige me so far Sybaris, as to ease me of that sorrow by reading it your self. Sybaris, having unfolded it, found these words,

UNERIA to MERAME.

The opinion I am possest with of your death, may be as false, as that which I apprehend you have of mine. I live yet Merame, thanks to Heaven, but 'tis only to dye within four dayes: which are the remainder of as many more were given me to resolve either to forfeit my life or honour; of which time I have wasted this one half only in seeking an opportunity to give you notice of it. I now expect the hour patiently which shall make me triumph both over your enemies and mine! And if you would not have me regret my death, since 'tis for yours and Vertues sake I fall, comfort your self, Merame, I conjure you by this last and highest testimony of my Love, and live for her sake, who thus resolutely resolves to [Page] dye for you, as being unalterably either in life or death,

Your Ʋneria.

Gods! Cry'd Sybaris, how has this Letter deluded me! I expected a quite contrary success, and had no place to doubt, but it would have establisht your happiness most firmly. Indeed, pursued Merame, the affliction this Letter brought with it, was by so much the more sensible, as it was unexpected, it crush'd down all my young springing hopes, and the weak props my reassumed confidence had borrow'd, and so infinitely oppressed my heart, it never could have risen from under the weight, if Senisra, having succeeded his Father, had not quite knock'd off my fetters of restraint, and used all the noble endeavours possible to perswade me, not to throw away my life so cheaply, but try to carve out a brave revenge for my Ʋneria. To this purpose he made up a reconciliation betwixt Hylebas and me, whom he afterwards commanded to quit the Court, and doing me the honour to admit me to the same degree of favour, as my Antagonist had enjoy'd under Balden, he committed the disposal of all offices to my Father, whom he elected for the General of his Army.

Mean time, the Scythians, who hoped for some advantage in this grand mutation, broke out into an absolute War, which their daily pilferings and small incursions on either side had long threatned. Senisra, finding the army his Father had levy'd, [Page] in a condition to march, commended my Father to prevent the Enemies hast, on whose Frontiers he appeared before they could have leasure to imagine it: I was impatient till we came to blowes, and as soon as we had newes of them by our scouts, I went out with a party to discover, or rather to attaque them. That first enterprize succeeding happily, for those I engaged were all either cut off, or taken prisoners; there was not any one of those whom I had subdued, of whom I enquired not particularly concerning Ʋneria; who, I told them was that fair Captive in Margiana, they had put to death a few days since. One only of them all, told me somewhat, he affirmed that their Prince and his son had both been most passionately in Love with her, but that the Father prompted by his jealousie had caused her to dye, to roote up the sons hopes of injoyment. Since himself could not allure her to his own desires, her noble vertue having bravely repulsed the hottest of his lustfull onsets.

The report and the love I had to Ʋneria, together with the hate against her enemies & my ressentment resulting from both, made me perform such acts, as without their impulse, I should never have undertaken; but those considerations did so animate me, that in that dreadful Battle we gained, though so dearly, that the victory was written in Characters of our own blood and innumerable wounds, I had engaged my self so far, in the greatest shock of it, amongst the Enemies [Page] horse, that being unable to cut my way back again, the numerous herd flying to save themselves hurried me away in the throng with them. The richness of my armes and habit shew'd me to be of a condition which promis'd them a fair ransome, which made them treate me civily enough, and secure me in a Castle very strongly guarded, which faced the Caspian sea.

My imprisonment was not so closs, but I had sometimes the liberty to breath the fresh ayr in a large enclosed pasture, at the other end whereof there stood another Castle, where I was told they kept those fair Captives, chosen, for their more then ordinary beauty, to satisfy their Princes lust; which awakened my thoughts and memory of my lost Ʋneria, whose cruel prison I fancied it to have been, and casting up my Eye with great attention towards the windows which were secur'd with Iron grates, my mind represented that fair Planet to me with all its luster and beauty: whilst I was feeding my self one day with these sad contemplations, I heard a feeble voyce knock at my Ear, which as I thought call'd me by my name, this made me hastily gaze upwards, from whence I perceived a note falling down rowled upon a little stick, which I soon snatched up and reading found it was Ʋnerias fair hand which thus express'd it self.

To MERAME.

The Heavens, in fine, Merame, are I hope weary of [Page] persecuting mee; after all my afflictions, they seem to promise pitty, I have found within the walls of this Prison, an officer that proffers me my liberty, and expects no other recompense, but what results from the act it self; your interests are so dear to me, and I have evinc'd they are so inseparably tyed to mine, that he hath engag'd (to make his obligation the more complent) to set you free, the same day with me▪ Meet therefore at the place he shall appoint you anon by a second note that shall be thrown down to you. Adieu

Guess, Sybaris, for I cannot cloathe that joy in words, which then fill'd my heart, knowing Ʋneria to be yet alive, and who to testify the true love she still cherished for me, endeavour'd to restore me to that liberty, which I had made her loose, when I thought to have procured it for her self and me. Notwithstanding amidst this hope, and fresh assurances of her faith, I resented some little grudgings of jealousie and distrust against him that thus undertook her freedome: and this secret suspition would have stifled all my joy, if the over eager desire of seeing her, had not quite thrust it out of my mind. I thought no more on any thing but those happy meanes and moments which were to guide me to my Ʋnerias presence, and during this impatient longing, I watched under the window expecting the paper that was to give me directions, which was soon after hurld down. By reading it I understood, that about midnight a Man would come and conduct me down a pair of private stayrs, which led to the sea side, where I should find a small [Page] boat waiting for mee, all this was punctually performed, at the houre assign'd one came and guided me thither, and no sooner was I imbarqued but the Marriners stretched away amain, making the best use of their Oars and Sails all night, to be by break of day at the place where I should land, which was close by a Fishermans small cottage, where they inform'd me I must goe to find some certain persons who were waiting there for me. Having set me on shoare, they made away from the place with great speed, and I with as much precipitancy, hasted to the Cabbin to find my dear Ʋneria; whom I soon saw indeed, but in what condition doe you think Syba [...]is? alas! that most beautiful creature lay extended at her full length upon the grass, weltring in her own precious blood, which gushed from her left brest! The horror of so gastly a spectacle shot, such astonishment into my soul, that I remained a long time as motionless as she, with my melting eyes fastned upon her wound! and my hard Fate denying me the mercy of a sudden death, made me endure the agony of many: yet was I summoned by an hollow sigh to look up; and approach neerer to her with a tottering pace; when finding no visible sign of life remaining in her, why my Ʋneria have you brought me hither, cry'd I, to be so sad an eye-witness of your untimely and violent death? Could you believe I should prefer it before your closs captivity? or if you design'd that I should follow your example, why would you not stay my coming? what has occasion'd such a sudden change, was [Page] your necessity so urgent you could not shun it one moment longer? ah heavens, why must I behold this funest object, were it not better to have left me still in the uncertain but more happy opinion of her former death, then thus to blast my sences by the horrid fight? But my eyes, what is't you see? where are those blooming roses, and fairer Lillies which created so excellent a beauty in her Face? Where are those living starrs, whose luster was less offensive, but more glorious then the Suns, and kindled kinder he [...]ts in my poor bosome? Can this be fair Ʋneria, and all these beauties wither'd? yes, 'tis Ʋneria, but death has cropt those curious flowers, and cast a cloud over those brightest stars! Weepe therefore, weepe, till you are blind, as she for this sad funeral of all your happiness! The violence of my grief cut of all further complaints, and sunk me down upon my knees beside her: where softly kissing, sometimes her cold cheekes, then her colder lipps, and bowing my head down in a dejected manner sighing and shedding floods of tears, I gently took up one of her white hands, which she had lockt together, and perceived a Dagger in it, and a peece of linnen in the other, which she had torne off from her neck, upon which these words were charactred in blood, To keepe my self intirely thine, I must dye Merame. Ha! well said I, since only I am guilty of thy death it is but just I should be punished: and I am willing to expiate the crime by offring my own heart thy sacrifice: but would to heaven, you rather [Page] had hated me, than given such woful testimonies of it! I should have no regret in dying for you, were it not after you are dead for me, which is so stinging a consideration, I doubt it will not leave me quiet in my grave. Too, too dear pledge of her immortal love, pursued I, kissing the Sacred relique; whereon her blood had left some blushings for my demerits; Receive the impressions of mine also, which I resolve to ingrave. And then taking up the dagger, thou fatal instrument of our discourteous destiny, bathe thy self in my blood, to wash that sin off thou hast contracted by letting out of hers. Then having again kiss'd my Ʋneria's pale lips and reeking wound, and noted where abouts it was made, I stabed my self as near my own heart, as that was to hers, and with the first drops wrote thus upon the same linnen, Merame dyes for Uneria who is dead for him. 'Tis strange, me thought that blow gave me the greatest ease I ever felt, by disbanding that dispair and load of grief that so oppressed me: and feeling my strength decay apace, I laid my self down close by her, on the same bed of earth, embracing her as strictly as I could, resolving to be united to her at death.

All my sences were now taking their last farewell and flight together. When she pressed that hand wherewith I held her fast; I strugled to raise my self again, and willingly would have thrust death from me, since Ʋneria yet lived, to have assisted her: but the loss of so much blood as gushed from my deep wound, caused me to faint, so that I was wholly deprived of all sentiment. [Page] Whilst I was in this trance, the owner of the little Cottage, a good antient man, hapning to come by, was moved with compassion, and used his best means to recover me again: by his care and helpful charity I came at length to my sences again, and as soon as I was Master of so much strength and reason as would guide my tongue, I enquired for Ʋneria, whom he told me was conveyed away by certain strangers he never had before beheld, he being much amazed at his return from his fishing to see a horseman bear away a woman from thence, and to find me on the cold earth swiming in blood.

I confess I had much ado to refrain quarreling with the old man, for suffering any to ravish her away. The uncertainty, balancing my mind betwixt hope and fear, whether it were a friend or enemy had taken her thence, strugled so long with my dispair which solicited for death, that it, in fine, made me desire to live till I could know the certainty: considering it would be time enough to take that Sanctuary, when I was sure she was utterly lost, who had been as miraculously as often preserved above all expectation.

To this purpose, I conjured the good man to transport me to some such concealed place as might secure me; who was so sensibly touched with the relation I made him of some feigned disasters had befaln me, that he soon consented to put me in a place of safety, before any one could have the time to be informed of my flight. So he, accordingly, conveyed me to a little petty Island, where he had found within the hollow womb of [Page] a Rock, a place large enough to lodge in conveniently, when he minded not to return to his other habitation. His Wife was there at that time with a child or two, who received me with the same kindness as he had brought me; and they there took such pains and care to advance my recovery, that within fifteen dayes, I had acquired a great deal of strength. In the interim, this honest fellow brought me intelligence, that certain persons, had made inquiry for me at his Cabin, asking him whether he could give them any notice of a man whom they described much of my resemblance: but they not mentioning either the Lady, or the misfortunes I had related, he thought it might be some other. However he was resolved and did keep me hid, till thinking it convenient to remove, I got him to conduct me to the chops of the River Oxus, not far thence, where being safely landed, I went directly to Sina in the Province of Derbices, the Governour whereof was one of my most intimate friends. I went afterwards to wait on and pay my duty to my Father, who being at Court, I had the opportunity to attend Senisra at the same time; who having formerly lost his first Wife in Child-bed, was then preparing (after he had worn out a competent time in mourning) to be at last married to his dearest Themira. Senisra, made me a thousand expressions of welcome by his caresses, and openly declared his more then common joy for my return: He had the goodness and patience to hear the sad relation of my misfortunes, at which he truly grieved, and gave me encouragement to [Page] seek again for that lost treasure, of whom they had heard no more in those parts than what I told them.

I made a careful research all over Margiana, and Bactriana, but in vain; w [...]en hearing that one of her relations was in Labynetus Army, I purposed to find him out, hoping I might from him meet with that intelligence which I had so unprofitably sought till then. I fortuned to reach the Camp, just when the two Armies were ready to give Battle, and being wholly guided by Ʋneria's interest, who had one of her kindred in that party, I thrust my self amongst the Voluntiers, and was made a Prisoner by the Hir [...]anians, but most happily for me, since by my Captivity I have obtained this honour of conversing with the brave Sybaris.

Morame having drawn all the black lines of his sad history to this conclusion; Sybaris expressed how much the sad Epilogue touched his generous soul with compassion: and having ratifi'd their former protestations of friendship with many new and hearty oaths, the seals of an inviolable amity; Sybaris returned to his apartment, charging his people to attend Merame with the most diligent service, who suddenly betook him to his bed, the fittest place of privacy and retirement to entertain his thoughts with those images of sorrow, which his so late relation had brought more freshly into his mind, as to the many divers accidents that had betided both him and his dear Ʋneria in their amours.

The next day Sybaris imparted some of these [Page] disasters to Cyrus, whom from the beginning had cherished his Prisoner with a particular esteem: and whilst this entertainment yet continued, Merame came to salute him, as he did also the Armenian Prince with Artabasus, Chrysante, and all tho [...]e persons of Quality, who were at that time met in the Generals Tent to wait upon him.

These illustrious friends had scarce put an end to the Ceremonies this new acquaintance claimed, when some advertiz'd Cyrus that a Messenger just then arrived from Media desired to speak with him. He commanded them to admit him, and finding it was Abracome, he led him into a little Closet apart, to have the greater liberty of discourse with him. This trusty confident of his affections, whom he had left in Ecbatane to have the more punctual information of his Princess, feigned at first that he came not from her, but to acquaint him how his Uncle Cyaxares being passionately enamoured with her, had convey'd her to his strong Palace at Julier, where she was so strictly guarded, it was hardly feasible either to speak with her or see her. But perceiving how much disquiet this novel brought with it, by the many little questions and disordered exclamations he made, he calmed him again, for the time, with a letter he presented which she had contrived to send him by means of an Eunuch, whom she engaged by Oath not to deliver to him till he should find him readily disposed to serve her.

Cyrus how ever eminently couragious and victorious, could not receive this Embassy without a kind of trembling; and having ript it open, his [Page] eager impatience made his eyes slip ever all the first part unread to see whether it were really signed by Birinthea, who wrote thus to him.

Cyrus,

your generosity which otherwhile made you preserve my Fathers life at my request, gives me just hopes to believe you will not deny that same protection to rescue my own▪ which, I am now in hazard of forfeiting, since your Ʋnole Cyaxares desires that of me, which he shall never obtain; though I Prognosticate from his wild humour, that finding his perswasions and cajoleries vain, he will make force and violence become the Ministers of his passions, whence you may guess in what an extremity of danger I am I do not acquaint my brother Tygranes with it, because you only ought to free me from this Tyranny, since it was you alone that delivered me into his hands, and you only are conjured to assist distressed,

Birinthea.

He repeated the Lecture of this Message three or four times, as though he had not rightly comprehended its Contents, but what might seem his difficulty was indeed only his excess of love for her, and wonder at his Uncle, and then said, with a soft voyce: 'Tis true, I put you into Cyaxares hands, but, cry'd he, I shall have no less power and reason to fetch you out again; do not doubt of it, my Princess, you need not only hope, but fully promise your fair self any thing you can desire of me, which though I am bound too by the immortal obligation of justice and my devoiur, [Page] yet I shall undertake it with more affection than they can prompt me to, being heated by your nobler commands.

He said no more, but smothering the struglings of his passion, and not willing to fret away the time with empty words, he called for Sybaris to whom he imparted the business. That choice friend instantly profer'd to go and set her at freedome, but Cyrus could not suffer any other hand should render her that signal service, which love and respect solicited him to act personally. He was a long while in suspence weighing his resolutions, for the greatest concerns of his Princess, and his affection called him into Media, but his fame and honour bid him not quit the Army so soon: in fine floating upon these waves and different tydes of irresolution, an express came, which being from his Uncle Cyaxares, did for a while interrupt his former thoughts.

Cyaxares the night that Cyrus parted from him, amusing himself with most of his Nobility in a grand debauch of Wine, had not yet taken any particular notice of the great number of Lords who had absented themselves to follow Cyrus in his more generous employments, but the next day, missing that numerous throng of Courtiers who alwayes attended at his rising, and understanding they had left him, to accompany Cyrus, he was stung with that poor envy, for this young Conquerours vertue, which usually ceazes on those, who cannot revere that in others, which they are uncapable of themselves.

This knawing jealousie had suggested the ensuing [Page] Letter, which he addressed both to him and the Medes, as follows.

Cyaxares to Cyrus and to the Medes.

I had thought, Cyrus, you were too well acquainted with the respect you owe me, to entice away the chiefest of my Court: And you Medes my Subjects, that you would never have been so perfidious as to forsake me to follow him. If my Nepveu, according to my advice, do return hither, return also with him; But if he persevere in his obstinacy to pursue the Assyrians, and you desire not to incurr my highest displeasure, quit him and be at soonest with me.

Cyaxares Rex.

Cyrus having by this Letter encreased the suspition he had conceived of Cyxares his ill will towards him, resolved, however to communicate it to the Medes and Persians, and having summoned them together, he read it aloud to them. After which the Medes wavering a while in a suspence, whether they should return back to their King, or adhere to their General, considering the glory they had acquired under the prosperous success of the one, and the duty incumbent upon them towards the other; caused Cyrus to speak, who gave free leave to such as urged it to go, but intreated the more indifferent to wave their resolutions till he had given a full answer to his Uncles Letter. Till which time he detained the Envoy that came from him, to be a Witness he acted [Page] nothing against his Uncles interest, or his own devoir.

Which proposition having their general approbation, Cyrus wrote his letter, which he afterwards let them see in these expressions.

Cyrus to Cyaxares, King of Media.

Your Majesty will, I hope excuse me, if I tell you, that it was never the intention of the Medes, or my self to forsake you: since, thanks to the gods, having left you triumphant at home by the victory over the Assyrians, you enjoy at present the prosperity of a Fortune, which can never leave you destitute of Friends, so long as it lasts. And if to give them chase, we have been constrained to separate our selves a while from your Majesty, and that be the only cause of your displeasure; we desire you to consider that this should rather stand as an argument to evince our fidelity, greater then theirs who yet remain in your Court; since we endeavour to drive thus far the Enemy from you, that we may keep all dangers at the biggest distance we can possibly from interrupting your repose and Peace. But not to relye on these considerations singly; I beseech you to call to your remembrance in what degree I have the honour to belong to you, and, thereby you may easily judge me uncapable of ingratitude, or self designs to your prejudice; Or if you can vouchsafe to credit the testimonies I have already given of my willingness to serve you, you cannot with any ground entertaine the [Page] least suspition, that I am wanting in that respect and faith, my birth and quality binds me in towards your Majesty.

What reason then, good gods, can your Majesty have to command your Subjects away from me now, since you expresly commanded some, and gave your gracious permission to others freely, to follow me, whilst I was present, and had brought a puissant Army out of Persia into your dominions without any other hostage or security, then the request you made of my Father? Nay, be pleased to give me leave to say further that should I treate you, as you doe me, I must then beg, you would restore to me those Palmes of victory remaining in your hands, which the valour of my compagnions lately reaped, and which I bound up in wreathes and garlands, and presented you withall: But to evidence the sincerity of my designs, I am desirous you would be pleased to take notice, and give me leave to make some new levies in Persia, which I beseech you to dispose of absolutely, according to the order I have left with my Lieutenant to tender you all the obedience and submission your Majesty can desire.

Withall, I intreate your Majesty, not to take it ill, that I presume to give you this humble advices, not to revoke those favours you have already granted, because thereby you would make more Enemies than friends, or obedient servants; and if, by your menaces and commands to returne, you would affrighten such as are here, with the apprehension of your displeasure, it will not be proper to let them know, you are left with so thin a train, since the knowledge that must give them of your weakness, might make them careless of obeying [Page] you? 'Tis not that I desire to retain these Medians that are willing to returne, I have granted them all their full liberty; but as for my self, I conjure you before I return, to allow me only so much time, as will be most necessary to compleat that conquest, which we have so happily begun, and from which you may expect as much advantage and increase of Dominion and Glory, as is wished by

Your Nepveu CYRƲS.

Diapherne had Commission to hasten to Media with this answer, and Sybaris undertook to make the levies in Persia; and withall to procure Birintheas release; they parted together with Abracome, whose orders were as closely covered, as the cause of his comming had been hid from them.

Not one of the Medes would return with them, and Cyrus, the more to chain them to him, because they made up the best part of his Cavalry: distributed the richest of the spoil, which had been taken from the Enemy, amongst them; leaving the care to themselves to reserve that which they thought fitting for their King. The Hircanians, Armenians, and the messenger whom Cyax ares had sent, did partake with them likewise: Only the Persians took what the others slighted, for being accustomed to hard usage and frugality, made no account of such trifles as [Page] only contribute to vanity and outward parade, but are not absolutely necessary to such as square their lives according to the severity of that discipline they had lived under in their renown'd Accademies.

The End of the First Book.

Birinthea The Second Book.

[Page]

WHilst they were yet sharing the booty, the vigilant sentinels discover'd a great body of horse that advanced directly towards them. They were already going to alarm the whole Camp, when three or foure cavaliers leaving the gross behind them, hastned to assure them, that their troops desired rather peace then war.

The Prince that commanded them, was a venerable ancient gentleman called Gobrias, who causing his man to make a halt, advanced, only with a small party to attend him, demanding to speake with their General; the Majesty of his countenance imprinted respect in all those that [Page] beheld him, an eminent officer having received him, conducted him to Cyrus Tent, at whose feet he presently cast himself down, but being instantly raised, and imbraced with a more then ordinary civility, he began to express himself in this manner.

I would not, Sir, that you should beleeve I present a traytor, or perfidious man before you, if my revault were an act of baseness, I should not dare to cast my self into the armes of the most generous Prince in the world, but the Subject of it having the appendages of justice and honor to warrant it legal, I hope when you are made acquainted with the reasons of my deserting the Assyrians party to embrace yours, that I shall find a noble reception from your infinite goodness. Cyrus having intimated how glad he should be to know the occasion that urged him to come in such a manner, Gobrias went on thus.

I am an Assyrian by extraction, the eldest of one of the most illustrious and puissant families, from whom their Princes are descended, I have the Soveraign command of the Province of the Garameens, where I have many places of great strength and plentifully stored. I came from thence with a party of thirteen hundred horse to find out Labynetus King of the Assyrians, who was slain in the first battle they fought against you. I was one of the most intimate friends, and had serv'd him divers times in his armies in quality of General, with so much happiness as to merit my favours from his noble acknowledgement, amongst all which, the most advantageous was the [Page] desire he had to allie me to his family. He hast one only son, and a daughter, and I was bled with a like paire: So that to make our kindred firme by an indissoluble knot, he ordain'd his son Ʋectorez, the same that does now succeed in his Empire, to espouse my daughter, and mine reciprocally his Melzune. So was my deare son named, to render his just assiduities to the Princess, was alwayes at the Court, where I was likewise obliged to reside to accompany my daughter, whom the Prince entertained every day, being intirely affected and inamour'd with her.

The time was neere at hand to celebrate those nuptialls, and all things preparing for so illustrious a ceremony, the Court expecting the consummation of it with much impatience when a strange accident suddenly ruffled this calme of promising joyes into a storme of unhappiness, which then swallow'd up my dearest son, and ever since all my content and felicity. The whole Court being press'd with a general gladness, the two young amorous Princes appointed to take the divertisement of the chace; the first beast they rouz'd out of a little wood was a bear at which Ʋectorez cast a javellin that miss'd, and my son by an unfortunate address couching it dead at their feete, every one starting into acclamations for that success, the Prince was netled with displeasure, as if my son had given an affront, yet making the chace continue to redeem that credit, he lanc'd a second javelling at a lyon, which presented it self, but with the same [Page] fortune as the first, and my son spurr'd with as generous emulation having given this it's death wound also; Ʋectorez coud no longer bridle the sinister effects of his rage, thinking those praises, the company bestow'd upon my son, reproach'd his want of skill, and being inflam'd with this jealousy, snatching a lance from one that was next to him, he furiously struck it quite through the body of my son, who was the dearer to me, because an only son, and whom in a few dayes I hop'd to see in the blessed armes of his faire Princess, whose daring valor and Heroick spirit promis'd no less then Crown's and Scepters to my family by this alliance; and who in fine was the only consolation of my life:

But, Sir, the rage of this degenerate Prince, was not yet glutted, though he saw him weltring in the streames of his own blood, he would not suffer them to carry him to the City, fearing least, his wound not being so mortall, as his own cursed hate there might be a possibility of his recovery: and therefore to prevent all my endeavours, and deprive me of the sad consolation to behold him once again, he caus'd him to be cast into the river Tigris.

The King his Father, immediately after he had learnt this woeful accident, came to me personally to testify the ressentment he had of my just griefe, complaining with much tenderness, of those considerations which hindred him from punishing the Author, and seriously protested that if he had but any other son to inherit his Crown, he would have made him the object of [Page] exemplary justice by sacrificing him to my revenge. The Kings compassion, and the real sorrow he had for my affliction, smoothered that hatred which I should otherwise have kindled against that abominable assassins Father: But I remain'd his friend constantly till his late death canceld that obligation and was now going to assist him with my best indeavours against you: but having been inform'd how that unhappy King was slain in the first sight; I am come (generous Prince) to cast my self at your feet, imploring the honour of your protection against the tyrant that succeeded him, who is so far from any sence of pitty, or repentance that in stead of denying his reason, to have consented with his rage to perpetrate that horrid act, be triumphs in his cruelty, with as much glo [...]y as if he had bravely defeated the tallest of his Enemies. Judge therefore, S [...]r, if my intentions be not faire and equitable, and whether I can doe less without reproach of tameness, and straying from the path of nature, and affection, then seek a retaliation for his blood. 'Tis from your valour that I expect my vengeance, I shall remit it to your own discretion to dispose wholy of my interests and life, with all that does concerne me

Cyrus interrupting his discourse, assur'd him of that assistance he expected, with much civility and cheerfulness, and Gobrias resuming his speech, continuing thus: But, Sir, that you may have no cause to doubt the verities of what I proffer you, two dayes journey will bring you into Garamee [Page] where you shall take full possession of all the Towns and fortresses at your own pleasure. My daughter the generous sister of Melzune, who was destined to be that Tyrants wife, will gladly receive you, whose pungent sorrow will challenge no less pitty then my own. I bred her, as I have already said, to be the Assyrian Queen, but though I had pointed out Ʋectorez to be formerly the object of her love, she now considers, him only as the Subject of her deepest hate, and and whatever that Traytor has projected to appease her indignation, yet she had so much spirit in her, as to tell him one day aloud, before his Father, Sabinetus that she more then admir'd he had the confidence to hope for any affection, or respect from one whose brother he had basely butcher'd, that the mourning vail she wore was an evident testimony of his blacker crime, and that as she could never shew too much regret, by her continual griefe, for what she had lost, so consequently she could never manifest too great a hatred against him that had so ignobly ravish'd it from her, and further she would never suffer that man, though a King, to be her husband that was her brothers assassin, but he should rather expect the sudden effects of the severest revenge her mortal hate, and anger could levy against him, then the least inclination from her extinguish'd love.

If fine, to shun the importunate pursuites of that unworthy Prince, she banish'd her self voluntarily from the Court, and returned with one of my sisters into Garamee, that [Page] she might be no more oblig'd to have that detestable object in her sight. I prais'd that constant resolution of my daughter, which seconded my own ressentments, and by the firmness of her indignation perceived she did inherit the vertues of her noble ancestors; but I was utterly ignorant (and never should have given way to it; though my revenge clamor'd my soul to wish it) that she had conspired against Ʋectorez life. She had given a private commission for this enterprise to a Prince called Emuin, who long before had been my daughter willing prisoner. This unhappy lover, who during Ʋectorez faire correspondency had been constrain'd to keep his passions under ashes for the respect, & diffidence of such a puissant rivall, was ravish'd to find an occasion whereby to rid him thence in serving her, hoping by this attempt, to cut his way to his own bliss, this being the only tall cedar that hindred the full prospect of his happiness, she having told him that the performance of this important service should give him a just claime to her affection. In fine this just murther was undertaken, but by misfortune not executed, the number of those that attended Ʋectorez hindring the fatal blow of vengeance. Emuin was taken in the attempt, who was master of so much constancy and resolution amidst the tortures of the inquisitors, and imprisonment, that he never reveal'd my daughter to have had the least hand in it. None could imagine that love and hatred had combin'd in this enterprise, nor would he declare upon any interrogation, for what cause he was mov'd to take away the Princes life, and instead [Page] of imploying his friends, who were very potent, to sue his pardon, he persisted to declare, that he desired not to live but to performe that by a second attempt which he had so unhappily miss'd in the first, it being a design too just to be thrown by. If any other but a Prince had appeared in it, I might perhaps have fallen under their suspition of being confederate, but it was above conjecture to imagine that a person of his condition would be but anothers instrument, and therefore he alone was adjudged guilty▪

He was condemn'd to pay down his head for the price of this treason, and because this peece of justice was to be exemplary, the execution was defer'd till the Kings returne, who was at that time within a dayes journey of Ninus, that the whole Court might be assistant. My daughter in the interim was made acquainted with the sentence pronounced against him, and feigning as if she were to goe a hunting, as she frequently did, being well mounted, she went directly towards Ninus, where she arriv'd (just the evening before the fatal day, which Emuin reck'ned as the last in his unhappy Calender disguis'd under the shrowd of such a habit, as was not usuall to her sex.

The day following all the Court being assembled, with the herds of common people, the King and his son being there present with their extraordinary guard of soldiers, they drew the miserable Emuin forth of the prison, to end his life and miseries at one blow, but whilst every one had their eyes fixt on him, descanting diversly [Page] on his misfortune, they were suddenly taken off to behold a fresh object which presented it self in that black Scene, it being a person vail'd all over, making way through the croud with two Trumpeters marching before.

It was the custome, of a long standing, amongst the Assyrians, that if any one could reveal somewhat, which might aggravate the offenders crime, or could fully clear and discharge them, they were to come thus disguised, to present their information. According to this order the Judges instantly suspended the execution to know what this might be, they carried the written information to the King, who was amaz'd that the person which brought it, accus'd himself as the sole author of the attempt, and fully discharged Emuin, as having only undertaken the performance of it, out of a blinde obedience to that persons command.

Many had formerly been known to bring in aggravations, but hardly ever any presented themselves so voluntarily to certain death. In this general consternation, they caus'd the unknown person to approach near the King, who was no sooner within reach, but before he gave so much time as to examine a word, snatch'd off the vail which concealed the admired person▪ None could at the first instant discover who it was, and truly it were difficult not to be extreamly surpriz'd with such an unlook'd for object as a Lady so generously out-braving death it self. 'Tis my Daughter Azimea, who as I said before under colour of hunting stole away from me, with a full [Page] resolution to save that Prince, and who with an incomparable courage address'd her looks and words thus to Vectorez.

Thou wouldest pretend, infamous man, not to know me because of this disguise, thou find'st, my presence like thy own conscience the Monitor to reproach thy bloody cruelties, and an authentick Witness of the justice of my enterprize to take away thy life, which is so clear an evidence that I would almost think Heavens justice slept when I miss'd of my hopes in punishing thee, for a retaliation of my dearest Brothers life. Ah degenerate man, do not turn back thy sight, maintain that bloody action, thou hadst then impudence to commit, thou tremblest, Traytor, to see her in thy presence from whom thou didst expect the softest caresses, avouch she is thy deadly enemy, and wish she could have buried a dagger in thy heart: but, tell me, what wonder dost thou find in this change, hast not thou oblig'd me to it, can I manifest less revenge, and hate against my Brothers assassin, and be a Princess still? Tell me what crime there is in this attempt? or rather what justice does not authorize it? can less than thy ignoble life satisfie for that worthy soul? or dost thou think me so tame and cool to pass by such an injury, and not resent it. If I be guilty 'tis only for my want of due revenge, and leaving it to be committed by a hand that was too weak, when I should rather have undertaken it my self, which Heaven, without doubt, would not have disappointed so unhappily: but thou dost make no answer, and thy pensive silence gives a strong [Page] assent to these indictments, and are alone sufficient to make good the justice of my intentions against thy guilty person.

These publick reproaches dy'd with such sharp and vehement language, did so astonish the Prince and gall his soul, that he had not the power to answer her one Syllable, whom he yet dearly lov'd; but the King his Father perceiving his confusion, stood up and spoke, to take her off from stretching her bitter reproofs out further against that horrid crime so openly. He sent forth Emuin to confront her, who confirm'd the whole information, and all that she had spoken, after which he was return'd to the Prison again, and Azimea was carried to the Palace, where she was strongly guarded till my arrival.

Labynetus, as I told you before, affected me extreamly, and sent for me, whilst I was in the greatest fears in the world for my absent daughter, to come to Court and hear news of her; According to this message I hasted with the most diligent speed, and having presented my self full of perplexity before him, he sent for Vectorez and Azimea, and related, in the presence of his choicest Nobility, all that had befallen; and told me, that notwithstanding all the reasons of State and interest of his Crown, he found it equitable to pardon my Daughters attempt, since he had been oblig'd to leave his own Son unpunish'd; and that his regret was the more sensible, because his Successor by this unhappy accident, was expos'd to the just hatred of our generous family: but as a satisfaction of my Sons loss, he now restor'd my [Page] Daughter, pretending by that means to bury our quarrel in oblivion.

I accepted the Kings mercy to Azimea with all the testimonies of acknowledgement my duty bound me to, without relinquishing the hate I had conceiv'd against his Son. I had forgot to tell you, that his Daughter was present at this enter-view, who being no less passionate of my Sons memory, than she had formerly been of his Person, upheld the interest of my Family stoutly, and confess'd openly that if Vectorez had not been so near of blood to her, she would not have been so bravely prevented in the design of revenge.

During the little abode I made at Court, my Daughter in her agreement making a superficial reconciliation with the Prince, obtain'd his rivals pardon, whom they were content to banish, and withall made the Prince renounce his pretence of Marriage with her, by an absolute refusal of that proffer'd love he often made, which possess'd him with as much violence as ever.

Our affairs being thus handsomly composed, I return'd to Garamee, where I was no sooner arriv'd, but Labynetus sent an express, for me to go and joyn my troops with his, to carry on the War commenc'd against Cyaxares. I was already on my way to this purpose, when I receiv'd tydings of his death, which made me change my resolutions, and turn my course towards you, to whom I fly for Protection against that bloody Tyrant whose cruelty, not fully gorg'd with my Son's innocent blood, has often made him profess, that if he ever came to be Soveraign, he would [Page] by force constrain us to repentance, and make my Daughter flexible to the last of his desires.

Gorgias having thus wound up the several threds of his discourse, Cyrus again repeated his embraces, and the promises he had made for his revenge, protesting he should find in him the readiest person in the world to second his resentments and his Daughters extraordinary generosity.

This conversion was not broken off, till the Medes came in a joynt body, to present him with what they thought he would esteem the richest of their purchase lately taken.

It was a woman of Susiana, whose miraculous beauty darted astonishment and dangerous wonder into every eye that gaz'd upon her, she appear'd sad indeed, but yet that sadness was mix'd with so much conquering Majesty, that it was easie to be read how little power the unhappiness of her Captivity had gain'd upon her spirit, Cyrus himself, who had no eyes but for the blessed object he ador'd, could not refuse them such a grateful sight, he stood still a while wrapt with the admiration of her person, and after he had receiv'd her with all those high expressions of civility her condition seem'd to claim, he understood she was the Wife of Abradate Prince of Susiana, whom the Assyrian King, had sent to the King of Bactria to make a confederation of their Armies. The knowledge of her condition put him into the same terms of respect towards her, as her beauty had of admiration, and therefore unwilling to detain her in a prolix discourse, which could not [Page] but displease in such a condition, he left her the full liberty of returning to her own company, with whom she might condole, and try to dismiss her sorrows, only giving charge to a young Persian Lord, nam'd Araspe, to have a particular care to treat her with that honour which was due to her birth, and merits.

Araspe had from his youth been bred up in the Persian Academies with Cyrus, to whose fortune he had since particularly ty'd himself. It seem'd that Cyrus imposing the Commission on him to guard this Woman, had consulted with his inclination, for before she was presented to him (inspir'd by the secret motions of that fatal destiny which none can avoid) Araspe had already sought her out amongst all the other Prisoners, and being only invited to a compassion for her Captivity, he had look'd on her with a more then ordinary curiosity.

Panthea (so was the name of this beautiful Princess) at that present was but meanly clad, sitting amongst her maids, who shew'd her no respect, more than to any other, thereby to hide her quality from discovery: but raising her self before Araspe, whom she judg'd to be some extraordinary person by the great throng that follow'd at his heels, he presently imagin'd that nature had not plac'd so much Majesty, as he remarked in her action, and port, to one of ordinary birth and beauty.

His opinion did not deceive him, for the civility he express'd, having oblig'd her to unvail that Divine face, which she till then had alwayes hid [Page] behind that cloud, his eye not only met with such a ravishing complexion, and sweet feature as did surpass the power, and liberty of fancy to imagine: but he resented the vertue of those charms (whose secret Magick had compel'd him to seek her out) diving into the very centre of his brest with love, and all-controuling passions. He had no sooner seen her, but he desir'd to eclipse her from all others: but having such a crowd of Witnesses, he was constrain'd, dispite of all repugnancy, to consent that she should be presented to Cyrus as the Medes had propounded. This new-born passion she had shot into his soul, shook him with apprehension least Cyrus should accept of her, and one may truly say that he received with more joy, (though not without the allay of inward trouble) the command of guarding her, then if they had bestow'd the richest Crowns, and Scepters in the world upon him.

Cyrus who perceiv'd the emotions of his heart; charactred on his tell-tale face, would have known the cause, and wish'd him above all things if he found himself too feeble to withstand her charms, not to undertake the charge: the combat being the more dangerous, because that fair enemy being ever present, he must lye at a wary guard to defend himself each moment, and enjoying yet a liberty that was usurp'd by none, it would be difficult to refuse that bewitching Sex, invading it so sweetly: he added more-over that 'twas impossible to behold a beauty like Pantheas and not love it, but then he must prescribe that affection within the limits of vertue, because it did import [Page] them, very much to preserve the reputation of their victory unstain'd, by right of which, the Captives were indeed become subject to their just power, but not to their unlawful passions.

Araspe having recover'd his setled countenance, answer'd that it was true indeed he had not been able to eye so many miracles in one person without astonishment, neither could he believe that any man living could be so dull as to behold her, and not find the like sentiments of respect towards her, as he did in his soul; but yet he was not ignorant of the rules of his devoir, and the trouble which might have overspread his face, being only an effect of his admiration, he assur'd him that whatever inclination he should cherish for Panthea, it should never exceed that which one ought not to deny to any beauteous person.

Cyrus in fine recommended the constancy of this resolution to him, and told him at parting that he should remember, it was difficult to approach the fire and not be heated, that love dealing treacherously in all his wayes, he must suspect him, as one that never flatters but to hurt. Araspe promis'd on his part dispite of all those notions in his heart that he would never go beyond an esteem for her. But the rapid streams of his inclination drove him far beyond all these bounds, and after a few dayes siege, which he maintain'd against those potent passions, he was compel'd to yeild to their violent assaults, upon no better composition than their uncertain mercy.

If the first sight and presence of Panthea had so powerfully charm'd him, 'tis easie to imagine that [Page] her noble conversation wholly vanquish'd him: she studied every day, finding he treated her with such choice respect, to oblige him by a thousand new civilities, expressing a great care for his person, and rendring him in fine all the testimonies of love and amity that he could have expected from a Sister. The effect of Panthea's civility was very different from what she desired, her design aiming only to gain him for her friend, not perceiving that she ingag'd him as a Lover. This poor Prince stifling the flames affection kindled in his brest, by his discreeter silence, that he might not break the promise he had verbally seal'd to Cyrus, conceal'd his passion. But this contagious malady of the mind infected his body, and fir'd that frail Cottage with a burning Feaver, whose flames brought those secret thoughts to light, which he till then had kept hidden, and though there did appear some extravagancy in his distemper'd speeches, yet it was easie to be known, that the remembrance of Panthea did alwayes feed his imagination. She went often to visit him, and though his fits redoubled at her presence, yet he was sometimes of a more composed spi [...]it than when she was not there. One day when she enquired of the Phisitians of his malady, they told her that in the extremity of his Feaver he most times spake of her, but yet she could not suspect in the least that this was any effect of love, but was perswaded that being often in his sight, the image of her person might often present it self to his fancy.

But coming another time into his Chamber [Page] when he was troubled in his wilder thoughts, he turned towards her, and with a vehement speech; Well Madam, said he to her, is it not enough to torment me with your remembrance, but you must come to kill me by your sight? shall I have no release from those deep sufferings? and my recovery being desperate, am I forbidden the least consolation? Yes, continued he, turning suddenly from her, and whispering to himself in a sad tone; Lets dye since 'tis the will of Heaven, for death is the only remedy for my afflictions. Ha! Panthea, cry'd he again, darting his eye upon her, after a little silence, Abradate is your husband, Cyrus has forbidden me, I have promis'd it, your devoir will not permit you, I should violate my own: But▪ —I have resisted to my utmost, and 'tis you constrain me, is it not true Madam? with these words which he pronounced somewhat loud, he ceased from speaking, and cast his looks wishly upon Panthea, who being in amazement at what he had talked with so much confusion, not being able to comprehend it, she approached nearer to his bed, and finding him as she thought in a calmer temper; Is it possible, said she, Araspe, that I should be so unhappy as to have contributed any thing to your sufferings? what have I done, which is so harsh to your remembrance? what can it import you, that Abrodate is my husband? what has Cyrus forbidden you? what have you promis'd him? wherein have I trespass'd against my devoir? what have I constrained you to do, good gods, 'gainst which you have so much resisted: Tell me, Araspe, and assure your self [Page] that if your health depended upon me, though 'twere to be purchased with my life, you should not be one moment longer in this languishing condition, and though I am unhappy in my fortune, believe it, I will not lye under the guilt of ingratitude for those noble favours I have received, but shall esteem the fortune of my captivity a blessing, if there be any means left me at present whereby to serve you?

Araspe after a great sigh, answer'd her with a soft voyce, I perceive Madam, that the violence of my Feaver has made me discourse extravagantly, I am asham'd to be so unprovided of fitting excuses for it, and beg your pardon, if I have mention'd your self, or worthy Husband in my distempers: In that condition you may guess, that being not the Master of my reason, I only talk what my extravagant imagination suggests, and that, which it may be, my Devoir would forbid me once to think on. Panthea would not press him further, and easily believ'd, that what she had heard was only the effects of his troubled fancy; Therefore after she had a while longer entertain'd him with much mildness, she left the sad Araspe, more turmoiled with his passion than his Feaver, which both together set upon him with such violence, presently after her going, that the Phisitians began to dispair of his life.

Cyrus, Tygranes, Artabasus, and many other persons of quality being informed of it, came together to visit him, they found him in more danger than he had been, and he no sooner perceiv'd Cyrus, who drew near to his bed, but casting a [Page] furious look upon him: 'Tis you likewise cruel—said he, that seconded the Tyranny of her Devoir; I should be less unhappy were it not for you, nor should I meet so many obstacles to my content, were I not constrain'd by your consideration. Hence, cruel, hence, what you are come to persecute me with your presence, and take away the very liberty of complaint. Ah 'tis too, too much! his sobs, and hollow sigh's blockt up all the passages of speech, and the Phisitians perceiving his transport, intreated Cyrus to withdraw, with all those that accompanied him, to give him a little repose. He was no sooner left alone but his reason returned to her seat, and quickly tam'd the tempest of his mind, so that he commanded one of those that waited in his Chamber, to go and beseech Panthea in his behalf to come to him.

As soon as she arriv'd he caus'd all the rest to avoid the room, except one Gentleman, whose fidelity he might confide in, and one of Panthea's Maids, and then seeing himself at liberty to speak, he began thus: I find, Madam, that you are no less surpriz'd to see me in this tranquility of spirit at present, than you were before, when I had lost the helm of my reason and judgement. The same cause nevertheless has produc'd these different effects, and that which occasioned my rude distempers, does now restore me to so smooth a calm, that I can discover a secret to you, which I should yet conceal, did I not find that the approach of death obliged me to it. This last extremity, Madam, may excuse me if there be any [Page] temerity in declaring it to you, which so far concerns my life, that 'tis the only thing which makes me loose it now. Judge, Madam, whether I may not reveal it without a crime, I know however you will not hear it without some displeasure, but I am confident likewise that you are too generous to refuse my pardon, which I implore before I dye, together with the permission to disclose it. At these words he made a little pause, to hear what she would answer in that vacancy, but perceiving his proposition either too melancholly, or too obscure to gain a reply; What, Madam, said he, do you not yet understand me, must I expound that in plain terms, which I would hide in some manner from you, and will you not take notice of my passion, unless I say expresly, that I love you? Ah, Madam, that word will cost me my life, I can add no more, and 'tis sufficient for my satisfaction that you know it. He could not command strength enough, either to draw out the thred of his discourse any longer, or to expect her answer, his sences taking their flight together with his speech, and Panthea beholding him in this condition, ressented the uproar of many passions strugling in her brest together: modesty, anger, and compassion invaded her mind, so that she was some moments in a deep suspence, but seeing those that were by, so busily imploy'd to assist him, she recover'd so much pitty as to lend her best endeavours, and truly one may say that she alone was able to revive him, as she had only been the occasion of his troubles. So soon as she was approached, his nature gather'd up its [Page] strength, and his eyes returning to their first offices, beholding her in that obliging imployment, his tongue unty'd it self in these expressions.

Ha, what, Madam, will you not have me dye after so presumptuous a declaration, do you pretend to cure me, striving to make me live. Yes, reparted Panthea, I will not have you dye, though I do not pretend your cure, having no remedy for your malady, you only are the cause of it your self, and if you found any inclination to love, you ought not to have undertaken the charge of me. Nevertheless what help I can contribute, without a prejudice to my honour, you may justly hope for. To love is not a crime, I confess it, Araspe, and provided you manage your affection according to the laws of vertue, I consent to it: but do not break the rules which I prescribe you, if it suffice you, as you would have me believe, that I should only be acquainted with it, I shall esteem it ever real, so long as you do not offend my reputation, look to your health only, and make it apparent to Panthea, who intreats you, that your affection being not guilty, is capable to bring you as much repose and content, as it hath cost you trouble.

If I have ever wish'd to dye, reply'd Araspe, to end my torments, I do as earnestly now implore the gods, to suffer me to live, since you command it, Madam, that I may testifie by my respects, and services, the immortal obligations I owe to your infinite bounty, which does concede far more than my most flattering hopes could ever promise, [Page] by permitting me to love you: my ambition reach'd no higher but to discover it before my death, and I shall be, if I may live, henceforth too happy, in my assiduous endeavours to make known that the bent of all my worthiest actions tend only to the honour of your service.

This conference gave no less ease and comfort to Araspe, than it occasioned trouble, and astonishment to Panthea. She was no sooner alone, but examining in her own chast thoughts all that had pass'd, she accus'd her self of too much complaisance, as if she had forfeited that severe vertue in which the world does make a Ladies honour consist, and feared least the permission she had granted him to continue his fair affections, should spur him on beyond respect and decency. But afterwards she excus'd her self of fondness upon that weight of obligations which she ow'd, and thought she could in civility do no less, than suffer an honest and vertuous friendship.

On the other part, Araspe had quite a contrary opinion, he construed Panthea's civility so much to his own advantage, that taking the consent she allowed his affection, to be meant a retaliation equal to his passion, he took a nice care of his recovery, that he might be able to reap the fruits of his desires. This vain presumption had almost lost him, he laid by all respect, which he till then had observed towards her, and follow'd his own head-strong passions, so that Panthea finding her self dangerously persecuted by his insolent courtship, was constrain'd to prefer the bill of her complaints to Cyrus, who weighing how important it [Page] was towards his affairs not to offend a Princess, whose Husband with his forces might go near to turn the Scale on either side, whom he pretended to court to a compliance by the mediation of his excellent Princess, he took her out of his keeping, and made her all the noble satisfaction that was possible for her to expect.

About this time Cyrus went into Garamee, hard by the City of Oroba, where Gobrias was making preparations for his reception. He encamped there about, and being attended with the principal Officers and Nobility of his Army, made his entrance, which was as magnificent on his part, as it was proud and costly on the inhabitants. The peoples loud acclamations declar'd with how much joy he was receiv'd. Gobrias with a great Train of Nobles gallantly mounted, and richly cloathed, went forth to meet him, and conducted him to his Palace, where his Daughter the generous Azimea, and all the great Ladies received them: this ceremony being performed on either part with a thousand civil expressions. They made him presents of a vast sum of money, and all the other rarities which the Orient does produce, the which he nobly accepted, but it was only to restore them to Azimea, to whom he profer'd them so gracefully, that she could not refuse them with handsomeness, after she had long disputed with him for generosity, and that he had protested more-over that if he commenc'd that War against the Assyrians for reasons of State, the desires to serve her and to revenge her juster interests should be henceforth the principal cause to [Page] make him continue and carry it on, to confirm which, having given her his hand, he followed her into many spacious rooms, whose furniture for beauty, and magnificence gave no less wonder than delight; and afterwards taking his quiet repose for a short space (having contracted some weariness in viewing the rarities of one of the fairest houses in all Asia, and visiting the fortifications about the City) being somewhat refreshed of that toile, he took his farewell of Gobrias, (who earnestly intreated him to honour him with his presence at supper, and pass away some dayes in that City) and returned to his Camp, preferring that sober frugality which the Persians observe in their diet, before the delicacy of those exquisite messes which Gobrias prepared at his splendid entertainments.

Amongst those whom the beauty of the Ladies of Garamee had inamour'd Histaspe Lieutenant General of the Persian Cavalry, was one, being conquer'd by Azimea's, but whatever advantage he promised himself from Cyrus favour, who dearly loved him, to whom Gobrias had absolutely committed the disposal of his Daughter, yet he durst not fly his thoughts so high as to pretend affection towards a Princess, who had been elected for the Scepter of Assyria, and so generously refused it. He propounded nevertheless to serve her, and to become, if possible, the minister of her vengeance, to merit at least by that action some acknowledgement from her goodness, if he durst not expect it from her love.

In the mean while, Cyrus was full of most strange [Page] inquietudes, he appear'd so sad, and was so troubled and impatient, that the warlike occupations for the Conquest of Assyria, not being able to divert him from the thoughts of his dear Princess, it seem'd that Sybaris and Abracome were too slow in sending him the news he languisht to hear. Gobrias who was unacquainted with the cause of his trouble, and had a great desire to be informed of it, meeting Artabase in a Garden walking with Merame, and the Hircanian Prince accosted them, and having molded his discourse upon that subject, it tempted the Hircanian Prince, and Merame with the like curiosity of enquiry, who joyntly declaring to Artabase the obligation it would be to instruct them in the happy knowledge of what so nearly concern'd their noble General, being all seated in a pleasant Arbour, Artabase to feed their greedy desires and attentions, commenc'd his discourse in this manner.

You may have great reason to wonder at the black melancholly of a Prince victorious over his enemies, glorious for his heroick actions, and happy, in fine, in all appearance, if ever any man were. A Prince to whose high valour all others yeild their powers, either in seeking his protection, or flying from his presence. The melancholly nevertheless, which is so legible to you on his countenance, is one of the effects of his first victory he gained in this War, the Lawrels which compos'd that Crown of triumph, were interlaced with those Thornes which yet torment him, he having lost his repose and liberty amongst those whom the chance of War had made his Captives: [Page] but that I may entirely satisfy the curiosity which you may have to know the compleate history of this young Heroe, who in his tenderest yeares perform'd such actions as are too rare to be pass'd over in silence, you must permit me to take my rise from those times.

The History of Cyrus and Birinthea.

You cannot but have heard of those celebrous Academies in Persia, where vertue alone presides, and where they are so well taught to practice it. 'Twas in those learned schooles. Our Prince was bred and instructed, whose condition did not dispense him from the severity of those lawes which they observe, they gave him no other but the ordinary course nourishment of bread and cresses, and satisfied his thirst with natures plain beverage, a dish of water, thereby to accustome him to undergoe hardship when he should come to be more necessarily acquainted with it in time of war: they taught him likewise to shoot exactly with a bow, and cast a spear, with all those other exercises which concern the agility and vigour of the body. In a word, he was treated with the same rigour as all the other were, the only difference that could be noted was, the wonderful aptitude, and readiness of his attaining every thing with facility. Amongst all his condisciples there was not any that could paralel his activity of body: and for learning, [Page] none ever made a greater progress in so short a time: and concerning all those little intrigues, and differences, which ever happen amongst children, as thefts, rapine, calumny, ingratitude, deceits, and other such like crimes, he was made judge, and so behav'd himself, that such as are most perfect in the lawes; and have a long time weilded the sword of justice, never pronounced more equitable and judicious sentences, nor could the ablest barrister have shap'd better pleas to defend innocency, or have heap'd more pressing reasons on the head of guiltiness, then he continually did.

These rare advantages of body and mind, conjoyn'd to his illustrious birth made him become so famous, that Astiages his Grandfather formerly King of the Medes, the Father of Cyaxarez having heard a recital of so many wonders, was extreme desirous to see him. Cyrus as you know is son of Cambyses King of Persia, and Mandane the daughter of Astiages. His Mother would needs go into Media to conduct him to his grandfather, who found by him, that Fame, which usually exceeds in her report of other things, wanted both mouthes and breath to proclaime all the excellent qualities of this young Prince. He found him more compleate every way then report had blazon'd, the disposition of his body and posture, was handsomer and more taking then he could possibly fancy, and beyond that, he found so mature a judgement, and such a sparkling vivacity of wit, as he confess'd, that all what had been related, though that were many [Page] steps above a fond beliefe, was yet so much beneath the exquisite indowments he now really met with in his person, that nothing but the testimony of his own sight, could ever have perswaded as a truth. In a word, the infinite charmes and graces of his person, and spirit were so many, that it may justly release me from repeating them it will suffice to tell you, that in an age so tender and Blooming, which easily receives any impression, not having yet stept over fourteen yeares, he had such solid principles of vertue, that the delicious and soft lives they led in Media could never corrupt his nobler sentiments.

The first time he saluted his grand-father Astiages, seeing him richly habited, having many jewells, and a sweet cloud of perfumes about him, he freely avowed that the modest plainess the Persians observe in their vestments, pleased him far beyond it, and he prefer'd the sober frugality of his former wholesome diet, before the dainty viands they now presented to his taste. In fine, amidst all that delicacy, he kept himself up strictly, to that rigid vertue he had practised at home, all that he learned amongst them was to mannage a horse, because in his country it was neither so frequent, nor so perfectly taught, as soon as he had attained this skill, he went continually to hunting with Cyaxares the son of Astiages, in which exercise having given many evident proofs of his valour and activity, he added one more also of his courage in an occasion of war which proffer'd it self at that time.

Astiages having been advertis'd that the Assyrians [Page] endammaged his frontiers by their continuall pillaging, and frequent incursions, sent Cyaxares with a competent strength to repulse and tame them. Then was it that Cyrus felt that generous ardour first boyling in his youthful veins, which the alarm's of war does use to kindle in valiant breasts. In lieu of following his unckles steps as a volunteer, he put himself in the head of their troops, as if he only had been their Captain, so that neither Cyaxares nor the Medes had any other conduct but his own, nor could the god of war himself have inspir'd them with more courage then did his noble examples. He was so heated in the fight, and thrust himself so far amongst the thickest of the enemies, who already began to fly before the fury of this young Conquerour, that Cyaxares fearing least he should too eagerly engage himself in a further pursute, was constrain'd to goe in person and fetch him of. In fine all his actions bred every day new and deserving admiration, nor did Astiages returne him to his Father Cambysis, but with regret, who coveted to have so inestimable a jewell in the possession of his own dear embracements, having heard what a new luster and glory his fresh victories had put upon his fame. Returning into Persia, he carried all the hearts and affections of the Medes along with him, which they paid readily down in myriads of happy wishes, & blessings at his departure, so generally he acquir'd their love and zealous respects, by those good offices he render'd them whilst he resided there, and the [Page] obliging carresses with which he treated all men.

Shortly after his returne from Media, Astiages died, and Cyaxares his son, and his successor to the Empire, found himself dangerously assaulted by all the Asian puissance at once. Labynetus King of the Assyrians having already subdued all Siria, rendred the Arabians tributaries, and vanquisht the Hircanians and the Bactrians believed that if he could but hang his chains upon the Medes and Persians, he should find no more enemies so powerful as to dispute his intire conquest of Asia. He had ambition enough for this design: but doubting of his strength to carry him thorow, he wrote to the King of Lydia, to him of Capadocia, to the Phrigians, Indians, the people of Caria and Cilicia, cajolling and intreating them to enter into confederation, and undertake a war with him against the Medes and Persians, whose strong alliance he perswaded them to feare, representing how necessary it was for them to knit, and unite their force together, to invade and dissolve them, whom alone they neither would be able to suppress, or resist, This reason engaged some of these Princes to joyn with him, the others being oblig'd also to consent either as being their vassalls, or their friends.

The mighty preparations which were made in all those nations for this war, could not be so secretly managed, but Cyaxares had notice given him of it, and least this tempest, which so horridly menac'd him, should suddenly breake upon [Page] his head and over-flow him unprovided, he quickly caus'd a numerous Army to be levied in his own kingdome, and wrote to Cambyses King of Persia intreating him to joyn forces with him, since the interest to oppose these Enemies was equall to them both, and to constitute his son general of those men he would send, because he was so indeared to the Medes, and they built such mighty confidence and hopes on his magnanimity, by those early proofs he had already carved with his sword when he was amongst them, that they believ'd the greatest helpe that ever heaven could lend them, would be the presence, and conduct of that young Prince.

Cambyses hugg'd the proposition of Cyaxares with the more willing embraces, because the glorious esteem they set upon his son concerned himself so neerly. He caus'd thirty thousand souldiers to be raised with all possible diligence over whom Cyrus, by the full vote of the Councel of war was elected general, and the very next day having caus'd his army to be rang'd in battalia, he establisht him in this high office, whilst they were offering the sacrifices, usual on such occasions, the ayre was fil'd with extraordinary lightning and thunders, which seem'd to speak the gods consent to this ceremony, to which the souldiers repeated a thousand loud acclamations of joy, which they sent up to Heaven for his prosperity.

The air in fine having recover'd the beauty of its former serenity, Cyrus imposed silence thorow the whole Army, and standing in an eminent [Page] place from whence his words might reach their hearing most distinctly, he made this following Harangue to his souldiers.

The Harangue to the Persian Army.

I am extremely glad fellow souldiers, that heaven by its happy auguries has authorised the choice which Cyaxares, and [...]ambyses have made of me, to be your general: but though this office be due to my birth, as being son to the one, and the others Nepveu, and that I find, in myself, courage, and resolution sufficient to undergoe it, I must confess, nevertheless, that I shall stand in some need to be supported by yours also, and we must reciprocally, by our joynt valour, second the fortune which the gods promise felicitous to us: otherwise, souldiers, if by our unmanliness only, the event of this war should fall short of the hopes we have, to make it succeed according to our own desires, and the gods should abandon us to all the misfortunes which commonly attend a shameful defeate, we should not however have cause to complain that they were wanting in the promise of that victory they now proclaim to us by the mouth of thunders: For to judge aright, dear companions, these horrid claps which seem to be the testimonies of their favourable consent to our just designes, doe advertise us likewise that they have power to avenge themselves upon their Enemies And who, I pray you, are their Enemies, but those that turne their backs to honor, to prop and maintain injustice and cruelty, and will [Page] you not acknowledge with me, that if they seem to declare themselves for us against the Assyrians, because that nation assaults us wrongfully, and with much baseness, they at the same time menace those amongst us, who have not vertue or courage enough to defend the honor of their country, their Princes reputation, together with their deare parents lives, and their own families security; but n [...]t to rove so far to point out the instruments of their threatning vengeance, doe we not know already, that the Assyrians have unsheath'd their thirsty swords, and if by our ignoble cowardise, we render our selves unworthy of heavens protection, may not those barbarous people be made the rod to punish us. Let us therefore beware soldiers, of betraying the interest of justice, and our own safety, let us not pull our ruine on our own heads, since we take arms but to preserve our selves, lets carry on the war with as much courage as we commence it with fixed resolution; and let us show the Assyrians, that 'tis not without reason they have confederated so many nations in one body against us, and set so many thousands a foote, since they shall find it no weake opposition: and that they are deceiv'd in their design to invade us, we going now to prevent them, and turne the bloody streame of war upon themselves.

The whole army answer'd this harangue with many redoubled shouts and acclamations, which spoke the souldiers impatience to be facing their enemies, against whom they now were suddenly to march. The Captains and all the most expert offi [...]ers of war, confess'd they never undertook a voyage with a more promising assurance [Page] of victory, then now under this young, but hopeful General. The orders in fine, were given to set forwards within eight dayes, in which time Cyrus received the adieus from all the Nobility, and the King his Father, and took his farewel also of his deare Mother the Queen, with the Princess Azumane his sister. The appointed day being come, Cambyses would needs accompany him to the borders that were contiguous to Persia, (where being arrived a mighty Eagle appeard flying at his right hand) and having taken his last leave of his Father, and the gods of Persia, at his entrance into Media he adored their deities, and went to Cyaxares his unckle, who was advanced very near the frontires to receive him, and testified by all the becoming tokens of civility and affection, the joy and infinite content he ressented at his arrival.

Cyrus who as yet had let in no other passions to governe his young soule, but the ambition to improve the glory of his courage, hearing the Enemies were yet at a great distance, imploy'd his time in the continual exercises of war, for which he ordained many prizes which he most commonly won fairely himself, with more agility and skill then fortune: but at length being tyr'd with their long stay, fearing least the idleness and delights of that country should rust or enervate his souldiers wonted courage, he intreated his unckle to give him leave to march towards those Assyrians whose tedious delay shew'd some unwillingness in them to come to any blowes, Cyaxares who studied nothing but to [Page] defend himself, because he knew his numbers less then the Enemies and being ever possess'd with a kind of feare, made the arrival of some Indian Ambassadors the pretext to stay him, showing him the necessity there was that he should know the subject of their negociation before he precipitated his affairs, These Ambassadors being appointed audience, declar'd the command they had from their King to speak with him, and the Persian Monarch, to know, what reasons moved them to make war, and ascertain those that should proceed most justly, of a powerful assistance from him, on their behalf, and after they had learn'd from Cyaxares own mouth, that he arm'd himself only to withstand the Assyrians, and bridle their insolence, and ambition, they took their leaves of him, and bearing away with them the pretence that detain'd Cyrus, they left him full liberty to press his march with more eagerness.

Cyaxares nevertheless, who believ'd he wanted as much strength as he did courage, indeavour'd by many considerations to keep them back still, the cheifest there of being a want of money at that present, which is the only soule, and life of war. But this which he propounded as an obstacle, spur'd him on with the greater speed, and gave the first motion to his generous expeditions, which have rais'd him since to the proudest pitch of glory that ever Conquerour could hope or wish: for being perfectly acquainted with all his uncles affairs, he remembred that he had heard say Artaban the King of Armenia had refus'd to pay him the tribute of fifty talents which he [Page] ow'd him for those Provinces that Astiages had formerly conquer'd, nor was he very hasty to answer their demands of those troops he was oblig'd to furnish them withall: wherefore he told Cyaxares that he ought to begin his war first with his own rebells, that so he might not have any domestick Enemies within his bowels, and that by reducing Artaban to his becoming Devoir, it would cast a bridle on the remainder of his subjects necks, and keep them in the roade of due obedience.

This proposition having been canvas'd, and consulted on in the Counsel of war, was found to be very rational, and they judg'd it convenient to attaque the Armenian, who fed his stubborne insolency, only with the faire promises of protection from the Assyrians, For this purpose Cyrus made a great match of hunting thereby to draw some troops, under that colour, neer the mountains of Armenia; and Cyaxares, to take of all suspition of any such design, feigned that he went to visit the frontier garrisons in person, in each of which he left a good number of souldiers, which Cyrus afterwards secretly sent under the command of Chrysante to possess themselves of some passages, in the mountains, of great importance.

Before Artaban could be informed of their enterprise, Cyrus dispatched a Courier to him, by whom he gave him notice that he was entred upon his dominions to receive that money, and those souldiers he was obliged to furnish his uncle with, or to fetch them in person at the head of a potent army, who would soon wring [Page] this out of his hands, if he refus'd a present compliance.

Never was Prince more perplexed, or amazed then Artaban at this demand, he never could imagine that Cyaxares having such puissant Enemies could think of any thing but to defend himself: the promise he had made to the Assyrians not to send any assistance to the Medes, and the presence of a resolute Army which threatned to force him to his devoir, suspended his judgement a while.

In fine having return'd, in answer to Cyrus, many excussive delatory reasons, protesting an impossibility to satisfy him for the present, hinting that himself was in distress of men, and treasure for his own security, and could not spare any to others. He thought to steale himself from their pu [...]suites amongst the forrests, and inaccessible mountains in that country, till by the helpe of the Assyriuns, to whom he sent letters of his condition, he were in a posture to drive them out again In this resolution he left the campania open to his Enemies, and having caus'd his wife, and children, with his richest treasures to be shelterd in the forrests under the save guard of one of his sons nam'd Phra [...]rte, he gather'd as many souldiers as possibly he could, to hinder his Enemies from ranging about his lands, but Cyrus advancing with his main body, soon dispersed those that had resisted his fore-runners, and constrain'd Artaban to quit the posts he was possessed of.

[Page] Cyrus, who would not give his Enemy the leasure to make his own choice of a retreate, pursued him so closs, that notwithstanding the difficulty of the wayes and thicknes of the forrests, he never lost his fight. Artaban would willingly have made his escape by some concealed path, but the providence of his Enemy had cut of all possibility of an escape before: so that he was at length shut up within those mountains, which debar'd all further flight, and Cyrus no sooner found he had reduc't him to the inevitable necessity of yeilding to hunger and thirst, or throw himself into the danger of a fight, but he sent him a Trumpetter, by whom he exhorted him to dispute for his liberty generously, rather then pine away with meager famine, which could not be resisted: but the Armenian defferr'd always to answer him, till he heard the heart piercing news of his wife, and childrens, being fallen into the hands of Chrysante.

These tydings stab'd him to the soule with griefe, and staggard his former resolution not to yeild till the last extremity; he came down into the plaines, judging it now better to save or loose himself with his disconsolate famil [...], then by an obstinate and vain resistance to inflame the just anger of his generous Conqueror, at whose triumphant feet he came and cast himself to implore his clemency. Cyrus having received him as King, but yet as a rebell King and prisoner, gave order for the troops, that came in with him, to be dispersed amongst his own, and without wasting further time, according to the express [Page] command injoyn'd him by his uncle Cyaxares, he assembled the principal of his Army, before whom he summon'd Artaban to appeare, who having lost his courage with his liberty, presented himself rather in the posture of a guility person then an afflicted Prince. After several interrogations made to him, this unhappy King could alledge nothing to excuse his rebellion but the desire to gain an absolute liberty for his successor, by shaking of the yoke of being tributary, he made him first acknowledge how unjustly he had refus'd to furnish his uncle with the men and money he demanded, having so good title to them, and how basely he had proffer'd assistance to the Assyrians, with whom he had secretly treated, and having afterwards asked him how he would chastise a vassal that should thus betray him, he drew that necessary condemnation out of his own mouth, which sentenc'd him to death.

Whilst Cyrus was imploy'd about this sad doom, Chrysante arriv'd, who brought in the Armenian Queen and her children as prisoners: but to obey the command he receiv'd from his Uncle to put that miserable Prince to death, Cyrus ordered expresly that they should not suffer them to come together, nor let them in the least know what was intended, to shun that conflict of compassion which their tears, and the rigour of his duty would raise in his noble breast.

The Armenian Queen liv'd yet in the happy ignorance of her Husbands misery and captivity, but when she from her Chariot, beheld him going [Page] forth from the Tent circled within a Guard of Souldiers, with a visage whereon the expectation of death had already epitomized all his fears and horrors, she threw her self down suddenly with bitter cryes; and renting the vail which covered her head, with extream violence, she furiously bent her precipitate steps toward those that held Artaban, endeavouring with earnest prayers, and interrupted reproaches, and threats to wrest him from their hands; when Cyrus warn'd of the disorder by the sad noise and moans which reach'd his ear, came forth to know the Original of it.

The fury of this almost distracted woman, whom he knew not to be the Armenian Queen at first surpriz'd him, and being told by one of the Souldiers who it was, he approach'd to appease her: but she continued still her fruitless violence, persisting in her mournful cryes, that they should either lead her with Artaban, or kill her presently? till being told that Cyrus was there present, she no sooner knew him, but falling at his feet, and suppressing her furious tone, changing it into accents of supplication; she implor'd him with all the melting language those dolorous passions could suggest to one, who having already lost her Kingdom and liberty, beheld her Husband led away in chains, by whom alone she could conceive the smallest glimpse of hope to be restor'd to any happiness again. Cyrus was stooping just to raise her up when the noise of some approaching Cavaliers interrupted his civility. They brought him a new prisoner, whom at first sight he had no cognizance of, but which the Queens redoubled [Page] shrieks, and cryes soon made him know. It was the Prince Tygranes, eldest Son of Artaban, who is at present in this Army, he being then just return'd from a Voyage he had made, fell into the Persians hands, before he was acquainted that any Enemies had footing in his Fathers Country. His Mother no sooner spied him, but she cryed out so dolefully that it increased his astonishment, and the beholders pitty; and you dear Son, will you be likewise one addition more to our heap of sorrow? the anger of the gods would not be fully satisfied, if their injustice had not drag'd you hither, to compleat the sad catastrophe of our ruine. Come, come, approach yet nearer Son: suffer him, said she to Cyrus, to see his Father once before he dyes. Consider, Tygranes, in what a lost condition is Artaban? and how undone your Mother, Wife, Sister, and all relations are, and then, ô tell me wherefore you came hither? but you unmerciful and angry deities, why have you brought him to us? is it to catch the falling Crown and Scepter, and support the reeling Throne which your injustice batters down so cruelly. Ha! no, 'tis to involve the heyre, together with the other lesser reliques of our unhappy Family, in one general destruction, least any should survive our rugged fate. You gods therefore, I do retract my former words, for I perceive there is some kind of equity in your judgements, it being more just, if our ruine be so inevitable, that we should fall together, then that any should be reserved to weep our sad calamity. Come near my Son, come children, come, cry'd [Page] she in a sharper tone, calling those who stood at a little distance, fetter us altogether, said she to Cyrus, in the same chain, and if you can be so merciful in your cruelty, let one blow put a period to all our miseries, for this will be a more welcome favour than alone to ravish Artaban from us. Her swelling sorrows stopt the current of further discourse, and the frequent sobs, and sighs that throng'd out of her bosome, left her no other power of expression, but her fugitive tears.

Mean while, Cyrus was wrapt into the greatest astonishment that could be; Tygranes had been otherwhile his particular friend, they having had their breeding together in the Persian Academies.

The unhappiness of this Prince, and the Queens tears fill'd his eyes with horror, and his heart with pitty. He knew not whether he should answer the Mothers moving plaints, to whom he had already given full assurance of her own, and all her childrens lives, or comfort the Son whom the amazement of so unlooked for an accident had so surprised, that of all his sences he could command the use of none but his sight, to be the Witness of that funest spectacle.

His Father Artaban, who had not enough constancy to stand the shock of his own particular misfortune, seem'd to increase it, when he was made acquainted with the miserable condition of his Wife, and Children; and whether his grief were too great for expression, or that the extremity of his affliction, seeming to sting him beyond the help of consolation, cast him into dispair, which [Page] hardens the most timorous spirits with resolution, he now endeavour'd to comfort his Wife, and his Son Tygranes, shewing them that Cyrus was obliged to save the rest of his Family by the same argument, and justice which ruin'd him; since they were no way guilty of that rebellion he had alone been Author and occasion of. That they ought confidently to expect a milder treatment from his clemency than himself, because his death would satisfie the ressentments of Cyaxares, and that they should endeavour by their vertues to regain the glory of his House, which he had so eclipsed, and stain'd by his perfidious act, proving by their future services, and fidelity, how free they truly were from being his accomplices in that crime. He could not keep those tears that hung at his blubbering eyes from stealing down his face, nor suppress a multitude of sighs his grief tore from his heart, when he ended this generous discourse, especially when he beheld his young Son Phraorte, his Daughter Birinthea, and Artemisa wife to Tygranes, whom Cyrus had caused to be brought to him.

Never was any spectacle so mournful, pitty had ingraved so much sorrow on each visage, that it was difficult to discern the Conquerours from the Captives.

Tygranes, whose tongue was till now fetter'd with his too violent griefs, finding himself obliged by his Parents tears, and presence, especially his dearest Arthemisa's, went towards Cyrus, who stood mute likewise, and could not hide some tokens of pitty from appearing, speaking to him in this [Page] manner. ‘Ah Sir, what must we expect from this deep silence, is it an effect of the compassion our unhappiness stirs up in your heart, or the severity of your sentence? what, is it not enough to take away the Crown and Scepter from a Royal Family, and so many Subjects from their King, without depriving a Woman of her Husband, and ravishing the Father from so many children, who desire nothing of all what they have lost, but the liberty to dye presently with them, or to have him remain a miserable Captive amongst them? does this Petition seem to be unjust? what right have you to deny death to us, since you believe it to be so just towards him? or if you do conceive him to be alone guilty, wherefore do you punish us more rigorously than him, letting us live with the regret for loosing him which is a thousand times more sensible to us then death it self? but I perceive what 'tis causes his condemnation, 'tis not your self, Sir, nor the ressentment of Cyaxares, that pittiless, reason of State does murther him, and you fondly believe there is no more cause to fear, after the Leader of a Rebellion is thrust out of the world: a poor consideration, and weak argument of unadvised policy, what then do you imagine the children of Kings, have such low spirits, and so small courage that in what state soever they remain, they will not endeavour to revenge a Fathers death (who was so dear and tender in his affection to them) by all the means that hatred, and dispair can store them with; 'tis true indeed the head of such a faction is thereby taken off; but know, Sir, 'tis a Hydra [Page] which still sprouts new ones forth, and of all those you now behold in your presence, as Artabans children, expect the same fixt resolution either to dye with him, or else perpetually to seek a full revenge. Or if, Sir, we are not criminal in your judgement, let your vertue appear in its full extent, do not confine it, generous Prince, within such narrow and severe limits, let the Father taste part of that mercy your clemency confers upon the children, who humbly implore the life of Artaban, which I perceive your own compassionate, and noble soul prompts you to grant him; vouchsafe it therefore, Sir, and bind a King by this immortal obligation, to endeavour by his faithful services hereafter, to testifie he holds the possession of it only by your extraordinary goodness. And if you did believe he was able once to prejudice you, you may as well think him not altogether useless by making him your friend. Take away all the subjects of your apprehensions from him, place your Souldiers in Garrison in all the places of strength in Armenia, and only leave him and his children wherewith to serve you in their own persons, and to the Armenians (who love him too affectionately to suffer his loss without ressentment) the power to testifie the obligation they shall so justly owe you for their Princes life.’

Cyrus pressed betwixt the Amity he had for Tygranes, and the obedience he ow'd to Cyaxares, answer'd him, that he took the gods for witness, and wish'd they might punish him, if it were not a real truth, that he was as much griev'd for his misfortune, [Page] as it was possible for a man to be, for one he so dearly cherished, and that without those pressing arguments he had alledged, the friendship they had contracted together during their infancy, was but too powerful to obtain all that he could in reason desire of him, but in this occasion, what he demanded, depending not upon his will, but the devoir of his charge, and birth; he beseeched him to accuse his hard fate, and he should evidently finde by the treatment which the rest of the Family should receive at his hands, that what he was compel'd to now, was utterly against the inclination he had to serve him.

He had no sooner ended these Protestations, but, fore seeing that if he gave ear to their further complaints, which had already awaken'd his heart to pitty, he should not be able to resist their clamorous petitions, he would have withdrawn himself within his Tent, commanding those that held Artaban to conduct him where he had appointed, and Chrysante to withdraw his prisoners. But then their cryes and shreeks became most vehement, and doleful; and Birinthea, who till then had only made her precious teares keep company with their fruitless prayers, broke through the croud which throng'd about Cyrus, and falling down at his knees which she embrac'd in her tender arms, she stopt him with these words: ‘Do not fly, my Lord, nor stifle all the thoughts of mercy in your breast decide, before you go, whether the children shall follow their Fathers doom, or the Father partake of the childrens fortune: or rather, sacrifice them all to [Page] your just anger to expiate Artabans crime, and reserve only him, since the gods will not gratefully accept a victime that is not truly pure, and immaculate. And we being innocent, shall better satisfie their justice than he can, because he is so guilty. Then stoping her speech a while and finding he answered not a word; Ha cruel, pursued she, lifting up the vail which cover'd her face, and looking on him with a countenance whereon so many foot-steps of grief and sorrow appear'd, as would have melted a heart of Brass into compassion, thou reply'st nothing, and nevertheless the proffer I make is fair to glut thy cruelty, and if thou art so greedy after blood there is more plenty for thee in our youthful veins, than in his aged body parched through time and labour; speak cruel man, and if ever thou knew'st what blessing a Father is, or hast the least sentiment of nature in thee, let that work some sence of pitty in thy soul.’

This last assault could be no longer withstood, it was too powerful not to prevail, and therefore Cyrus yeilded up his severity to the stronger risings of compassion in his breast, Birinthea, had no sooner discover'd her divine face, though it were bath'd in tears which bubbled from their chrystal springs, but he ressented, besides the motions of pitty, all those other effects which such an afflicted beauty can inspire in a most generous and tender heart. He revok'd the order he had given Chrysante concerning the person of Artaban, and committed him together with his Wife and Children to Chrysantes Guard, promising [Page] them to do his utmost to obtain his pardon from Cyaxares, to whom he immediately wrot for that purpose.

When the Messenger, whom he had dispatched, return'd and brought him word, that he might absolutely dispose of the life of Artaban, according as he pleas'd to think convenient, this news did so fill his mind with a particular joy, and he found himself so puissantly interessed for Artabans preservation, ever since Birinthea's mediation, that he would be himself the bearer of it. He went to the place where they were yet detained prisoners, where their divided fears and hopes held them in a trembling suspence what would be the event concerning Artaban, whom at that present moment they entertain'd in a conversation composed more of sighs, and tears, then words. His unexpected visit surprised them extreamly, and they were timorously weighing in their thoughts the reasons of it, which he cleared to them, by declaring the cause thereof: This blessed news notwithstanding did not wipe off their tears, they wept for joy, as they had wept for grief, and in this first transport, whilst they tender'd him millions of thanks for his infinite goodness, with all the submissive acknowledgement they were capable, Birinthea mov'd him no less by the ressentment she witnessed for this favour and grace, then she had done before, by those bitter reproaches of cruelty she charged him withall. He afterwards concluded the conditions of pardon, he vouchsafed to Artaban, by which the King obliged himself to pay yearly double [Page] the tribute which Astiages had formerly imposed and to give up all the places of strength into Cyaxares hands, and voluntarily offer'd besides to furnish him, towards this War, with forty thousand Foot, and eight thousand Horse, and for ransome of his person, and his wife, he intreated him to accept of all the treasure his Father had left him, which amounted to about three hundred talents: and seeing he had nothing left remaining to satisfie for his children, he clasped his arms about Cyrus knees, the tears hanging at either eye, and told him he refer'd them to his own generosity, not being able to proffer any thing else but the assurance to pay that debt, by the continual exercise of his daily services, and a plentiful acknowledgement of all his noble obligations.

This manner of expression touched Cyrus in the most sensible part of his vertue, who could not have suppressed his generosity in things, for which he had less inclination, the Articles in fine were signed, and the Armenian King obtain'd, besides what he had handsomely intreated, many choice favours which his hopes could not expect, on condition however that as an assurance of this treaty, the young Phraorte his Son, and his Daughter the Princess Birinthea, should be sent into Media to remain as Hostages for their fidelity.

It would pose me to tell you whether Cyrus retain'd this Princess, for his Unckle Cyaxares interest, or his own inclination only, but this I am certain of, that after she had dryed up her tears, and recover'd the lustre of her beauteous face, [Page] which those clouds of grief and sorrow had dress'd in mourning weeds, he was first constrained to admire those fresher graces, and then to digest his admiration into this open acknowledgement that notwithstanding the severity of those doctrines he had learnt in the Accademies of Persia, which denyed a Conqueror to look upon his Captives with any other eyes than those of a Victor: yet it was impossible to behold so imperious a beauty and not efform rather sentiments of servitude and worship, then of triumph and Empire. This declaration, nevertheless, passed only for an expression of galantry, and perhaps himself as then, believ'd it sprung from his own mind on no other consideration. He invited the Royal Family that same night to a sumptuous Feast, and afterwards requested the Prince Tygranes (amidst their other pleasing discourse of former acquaintance to which Cyrus had engaged him with much affection) to relate the History of his life since the time they were separated, from whence he now came when he was taken, and particularly in what alliance he had found so fair and vertuous a Princess as his wife, Tygranes satisfied his curiosity to the full, and told him all the marvellous accidents which had hapned in their amours, which Cyrus heard with infinite delight, and perhaps you would find as much content in the recital did I not fear so prolixe a digression would tyre you.

The Hircanian Prince Gobrias, and Merame having told him they should rejoyce exceedingly to be made partakers of it, he was disposing himself [Page] to tell it them, when perceiving Hypocratides walking in the next Alley, he propounded to hear it rather from his relation, as being one who alwayes had a great share in Tygranes fortune, and who was more fully acquainted with each particularity.

They went joyntly to intreat him, and that Gentleman being glad of an occasion to entertain so noble a society, first intreated them to excuse him, that he was oblig'd to commence with the History of Arthemisa's Father and Brother, because it was absolutely necessary for the intelligence of the other, and then began after this manner.

The History of Tygranes and Arthemisa.

IF you were not already well assured by your own experiences and every days examples, that of all passions in the soul, love and hatred are the most potent, the recital of this History of Tygranes and Arthemisa would be sufficient evidence to prove it.

This Princess is Daughter of Ctesiphon Prince of Colchis, whose Mother Laodice, five years after she had brought her into the world, was constrain'd to leave her by a malady, which suddenly snatch'd her from her husband and pretty children Ctesiphon was not very young, and nevertheless after he had worn out four years in widdow-hood which he thought were due to regret his dear wife, he took a resolution to marry. He [Page] cast his looks for this purpose on all his neighbour Princeses to find some object suitable to his condition; but whilst he was thus in quest, his unhappiness met a woman, who under the bewitching appearance of a florid beauty, cover'd the poisonous sentiments of a most vicious soul. It was the cruel Erixone, whose lustful flames kindled that dissention which hath caused so much misfortune to her Family: having sifted out his inclination, she knew so well how to gain that Prince by her affected flatteries, that in fine, he married her maugre all those reasons of State which oppos'd his affection, all which he trampled under foot. The blindness of Ctesiphon's love, and Erixone's ambition, forged this ominous match: but this unhappy woman loving nothing in his person but the vain quality of Prince and Soveraign: being satisfied now with that, resolv'd unlawfully to seek elsewhere for greater pleasure, than Ctesiphon could feed her insatiate brutality withal; inspir'd with these detestable thou his and desires, she shot her poisonous glances at every one in whom she spied any loveliness; her aspiring vanity soothing her with the fond belief, that none could possibly resist her piercing eye, when it was edg'd with so much passion, nor refuse the sweeter correspondency with her temptations: yet fearing least the unwary indiscretion of some, or the too reserved prudence of others should unmasque her wanton designes, she thought it most secure to single out one alone, and she could find none more deserving to be doated on then Theramene.

[Page]She was not mistaken in the judgement she made of the person of that young Prince. He was then but seventeen years of age, his body, of an excellent shape, was but the habitation of a more noble soul, and any others passion but Erixone's, would have challeng'd its excuse from the catching charms of his brave qualities, but that infamous woman instead of considering him as her own husbands Son, believ'd him the fi [...]test person with whom she might practice her incestuous projects most safely, because Theramene was ever in her eye, and the familiarity which she used towards him, perswaded her she might facilly convert the carresses of an indulgent Mother, into the strickter embraces of a dearer Mistriss, and that he was not so green in experience, but he would soon discern and approve of it. This specious pretext was a long time the cover to disguise her passion, and though she were most subtil in her behaviour, yet could she not make Theramene take notice of any thoughts beyond his Devoir. Not but that she discover'd her self apparently enough sometimes, as he related since; but because the purity of his soul being incapable to let in so ungrateful and horrid affection, he could not suspect so base an ambush then. Every one perceiv'd evidently that Erixone had a particular affection towards Theramene, even Ctesiphon declar'd he was obliged to her for it: but never any could imagine her more then ordinary tenderness was the Pander to her abominable lust.

In fine, after the vain pursute of a whole year, finding her itching desires could not be thus satisfied, [Page] she conceiv'd as much violent hatred in the beginnings of her dispair, as she had cherished love for him in her soul, she resolv'd to oppress the Princes vertue, if she could not corrupt it, and in the means she fought to ruine him, she found the satisfaction of these two different passions which strugled in her brest, because she fixedly intended to throw off all dissimulation and disguise, and break through the bashful laws of Scruple, and nice decency, by making a manifest declaration of her love, to which if Theramene gave a willing ear, and correspondency, hers should be fully glutted in the fruition; and if he should recoile by his too cold denials, she voted such a deep revenge, that he should sink under her enrag'd displeasure, if he became not flexible to her more soft desires.

This Princes extraordinary civility furnished her with frequent occasions to execute her ignoble designs, there was not a day pass'd wherein he did not see her, he resorted every morning to her Chamber as soon as decency permitted him a becoming entrance. One time above the rest Cresiphon being somewhat indisposed, sent Theramene to give her the bon-jour, and communicate certain affairs to her, she made her maids and women retire, and though she were yet undress'd, led him to her Closset under a pretence of telling him some important secret, and forbad any one to interrupt her. There was she assaulted with the several passions of Love, and Hatred, Hope, and Dispair Confidence, and Fear, and after some moments silence, in which a busie eye might have [Page] read her thoughts in her countenance, which though not truly understood by the Prince, did somewhat raise his astonishment, and invite him to beg the knowledge of the trouble he perused in her face, (so often shifted from its natural sweetness, into betraying blushes) she set two or three sighs at liberty, and darting her looks upon him fuller of Love, than Anger. Ha Prince, (said she to him) What do you expect more! would you have a clearer evidence, or more apparent testimonies of that which I have endeavoured so long time to reveal? are you alone insensible in the world? and nature that has enjewel'd you with all the exquisite qualities that can render a man admirable in a Soveraign degree, has she depriv'd you of all sentiments of Love, as well to the persons of others, as your self.

The Prince was so amazed with this discourse, that he could not get his troubled thoughts to shape out any answer, he heard indeed she mention'd the name of Love, but could not comprehend from whence this declaration proceeded, or why it was address'd to him, and therefore they stood gazing a long time upon one another without pronouncing a sillable, but she recovering her spirits again, went on thus. You are surprized methinks, as if it were news for Love to raign in a young heart, or that a woman as I am were capable to affect, and adore a man like you, have I now explained my self and broken the Ice enough? do you now understand my looks, and thoughts, or must I bring more light yet to discover so fair a flame? your silence which cannot be in you a sign of stupidity, is it a mark and effect of the disdain you have for me? am I too poor in beauty? or is my[Page]Age too stale, and does your busy eye, surveying me from head to foot, meete so many defects in that short travel as to distaste and slight the correspondency I begg? Ha Madam, answerd Theramene having recollected his disturbed fancy, is it to try, and sound me that you make this discourse? yes certainly, you have too great [...] stock of eminent vertues to be capable of such a criminal love, but tell me Madam, what is that grand miscarriage, which has so falsely perswaded you, I harbord any sentiments so contrary to my devoir The respect I have ever rendred you, can that have betrayed my intention, and can my excess therein testify any thing beyond what I doe owe you? just heavens you know at least the purity of my soule. Erixone interrupting the current of his discourse told him, no Theramene you need not wander so far for testimonies of that, there never was in you the least sparke of love for me, I have but too long watched to espie that, doe not complain of the excess of your esteem since I reproach only your want of it, had that been but true in the smallest portion you could not have been so insensible, and you might well have judged that though I had not merited your affection for any handsome quality in my selfe, yet I at least deserv'd it as a retaliation for mine to you. Insensible, or ingrateful man, which of the two shall I reproach you of, shall I excuse one, to accuse of th'other, declare it Theramene, and acknowledge the verity of my passion from its excess,

The Prince, who could no longer find the least shaddow of doubt after she had uncloath'd her thoughts so nakedly, reply'd, ‘Madam, I now [Page] find that true which had been ever said of love, if it be possible that you love me in such a manner as you have express'd your self, the blindness of that passion has so hood-winkt your sight and memory, that you have quite forgotten who I am, you do not remember, Madam, that I am Ctesiphons son, that Ctesiphon is your dearer husband, and you his lawful wife: this is enough, and this weighty consideration alone were sufficient to instruct you that I have been as little capable of ingratitude as insensibility on your behalf, since I ought not to be susceptible of any love for you, as I must needs beleeve you do but feigne towards me: but, Madam, it was unnecessary to represent you these considerations, to make you see a fault of which surely you are no wayes guilty, 'tis only I am so by those unhappy suspitions you have started, that I should be so rashly insolent to hatch such base desires contrary to my duty, and respect; this declaration must be only to try me, I should wrong your vertue to beleeve otherwise, for you have too much judgement. Say too much love, reply'd she interrupting him, cruel; what then must I give faith to it, said he: what reason answerd she, should make you doubt it; nay rather, reply'd he, what reason would not condemne such a beleefe, the opinion I have of your vertue, Madam, your devoir, and my own, doe not all these forbid my boldest thoughts to let in the least shaddow of such a suspition; is this all, said she, that thou canst oppose, doe I transgress in my devoir by loving [Page] you, since the gods having created you so lovely, inspire me with a secret passion towards thy person, besids that which all the world is bound to cherish for their most perfect works?’

She stopt her speech a while to fix her looks more stead fastly upon him, hoping by those hot glances to melt his frozen bosome, at which she had so vainly knock'd for entrance with her alluring words, but finding the sweetness of her amorous beames had not that powerful influence she presum'd, and only excited more aversion in him, she resum'd her speech again, and tuning her tongue to the recover'd gaiety of her smiling countenance, said to him in a cajoling accent; ‘And wherefore would I not love you, since the devoir and vertue you object are, but bugg bear Chymera's, which the base jealousy of men invented? I being more forcibly oblig'd to obey that fatality which ordains me to love you, then their poor fancies; Ctesiphon is not wrong'd in this, I love him enough to correspond with his affection, and how little so ere I have for him, young as I am, I doe but satisfy, too much the passion of an old decrepit man. Then 'tis in earnest, reply'd the Prince, & far from acknowledging your fault, you would couple sacriledge to incest, and make the gods accomplices of your infidelity: ha doe you charme my Father with your false caresses but only to betray him; and are you so perfidious in your designe as to desire his son, for your compagnon in the crime you have address'd your self unhappily Erixone, you'l miss your ayme, Theramene will act the duty of a [Page] child better then you doe of a wife, and I could almost strangle those considerations which tye my hands up from speedily revenging the affront you cast on Ctesiphon, did I not cherish his honour more then you, my exasperated indignation should immediately light on your head.’ He went out hastily after he had ended these words, and though he indeavour'd to compose his countenance, yet every one perceived his trouble and alteration.

Erixone deeper gall'd with shame for having been rejected then at the foulness of her crime, follow'd him still with her eyes, and looked stedfastly on the door which let him out, when one of her maids whom she most favour'd entred into the closet, and found her yet in the same posture as Theramene had left her; but with farr other sentiments. Love had resign'd its throne to hatred with which instantly suggested a thousand wayes to ruine him, of which her rage chose the most bitter, but the most expedient for her purpose, intending to imploy the Father as an unhappy instrument to destroy his own son, as she before design'd to make the child sin against his Fathers honor. She resolv'd to anticipate the complaints which Theramene might make, and the same moment this came into her mind she left her closet to prepare her self to goe ta Ctesiphon.

During the little portion of time she wasted in dressing her self, she consulted how she might most cunningly prepossess her husbands mind: flattery and sweetness seem'd the most catching, and deceitful, and so she having decreed that, and [Page] being come in his presence before he could have time to note the trouble in her face, she prevented him by a most earnest prayer whereby she desired him to grant her one favour.

The particulars which I shall now tel you, were discover'd to me by one of my friends who was then present, whom she was glad to have for witness to publish her rare vertues, and the crime she fastned on Theramene. Ctesiphon who was not accustomed to refuse her any thing, nor could deny the least of her desires, without informing himself of the particulars of her request, gave her a full assurance that having an absolure ascendant over his will, she might safely promise her self all that was possible for him to grant. The better to delude Ctesiphon, she would not rely on his bare promises, she made him first solemnly swear that he should not pretend any ressentment for a great injury which had been design'd against him, and that what she now desir'd with so much importunity was a full pardon for it. These words of injury and pardon astonish'd Ctesiphon, he knew not where to fix his thoughts, but Erixone who had as much subtilty as malice, having protested by some tokens of affection, which seemed to be interwoven with more truth then falshood, that her interests being inseparably united to his, she would never have desired the pardon of a fault, which were not excusable in its nature, and especially in a person whom of all the world must be most deare unto him, she thus prepar'd his spirit as she pleas'd, and told him the crime was [Page] love, the most venial of all sins, and the subject Theramene that was guilty, who best of all men deserved a free pardon, having imprudently suffer'd himself to be surpris'd with that passion towards her: but the violence of it having constrained him to make an open declaration, she hoped that she had cured his distemper by those remonstrances she had made to him on that subject.

Here she broke of her discourse to see what effects it wrought in Ctesiphon's spirit, who could not keep in his anger. He loved Theramene indeed, but not so passionately as he did Erixone, the render goodness which that woman had feigned towards his son, imploring his mercy for an act, which wounded him so mortally, touch'd him with the more fondness towards her, and vehemence against him, what, cry'd he Theramene is my greatest Enemy, and my only son? He, he alone will ravish from me my cheifest joy, you have too great a bounty, Madam, for so ignoble a person: if this crime were pardonable, it would be so in any other but himself, and if you truly love me, you will permit me to revoke the grace I had conceded at your petition, and shut my eyes on all the sentiments of nature, for a son who tramples on them all towards his Father. What Theramene! Erixone who found it not so fitting to let him proceed any further at that time, stopt him with her dissembled tears, and gently sweetned his savage fury with these words. ‘The gods know, Ctesiphon, whether I love you, and without seeking other witness you likewise know it your self, [Page] the excess of my affection is sufficiently evident in this occasion, seeing the infinite care I take to preserve your son. 'Tis that inspires me with these desires for him, though I am far more sensibly offended then if he had attempted against my life, I acknowledge he does wrong you? but 'tis in my own person, and you must confess likewise the highest affront is given to my devoir & vertue: nevertheless, sir, if ever you had any esteem for me, and if there be the smallest roote of it remaining, vouchsafe the pardon for a fault which he committed involuntarily, since my unhappy beauty is the cause, and that it is a sin of youth, rather then of his person; and if you doe deny this favour, never expect any content again from Erixone, her griefe would be above the remedy of consolation, if after having caus'd unwittingly your son to love, she should be likewise the occasion of his disgrace, therefore if ere you purpose to endear me, prevent this last misfortune.’ Ctesiphon demonstrated that Erixone was more choice to him in all respects then Theramene, and as her interests was the chiefe subject of his anger, her prayers in fine calmed his spirits, and she wrought him so pliable to her will, that she made him vow, he would never testify any displeasure unless Theramene should impudently repeate his base pursuites, which if he offer'd, she promis'd him not to hinder his just anger and revenge.

You may note in this occasion, that if sometimes jealousy has been more powerful then love, love in this did triumph over jealousy; she [Page] did not intend to smoother his ressentments altogether, but only bridle their violence for a time. Erixone had so much sway over her husbands passions, that she not only fully perswaded him to her mind, but having made him capable to be the minister of her vengeance, she confirm'd him still the more in his fond beleef of her affection by the interest she dissembled in the pardoning his dear son. Some small time afterwards, which she had purposely slipt over to hide her malice, having pent in her husbands wrath only to make it burst forth with the greater violence when she thought fitting, she judg'd it would not be convenient to defer it any longer, least the Princes more severe vertue, who omitted to complain out of respect, being stirred with the importunity of new solicitations should be forc'd to break his modest silence, she declar'd to Ctesiphon that not being any longer able to endure the daily insolencies of his son, she wish'd him to provide for the security of her honour, and to abuse him the more neatly, she councel'd him to imploy, if it were feesible, no other meanes but sweetness to reclaim him.

This unhappy Father whose judgement was corrupted through his jealousy, and who from his sons countenance, that never could appear in Erixones presence, but with much change and alteration, had falsely guess'd it to be an effect of love and not that noble indignation he conceived against her, resolved to sacrifice him to his passion, and sent the Captain of his guards for that purpose to ceaze upon his person, with [Page] strickt command to secure him in a Castle, a little distant from the City, till he should further determine how to dispose of him.

I was with Theramene when they first took him, that Prince having ever perfectly honor'd his Father, submitted without resistance to those who had the order to apprehend him, and not being able to imagine the cause of his restraint, told them aloud, that though he knew himself to be purely innocent, he would freely follow them even to his own death, to satisfy his Father, towards whom perhaps he was too guilty, since he was so unhappy, as to have given him cause to think so. I accompanied this poore Prince into the Prison, where his guards likewise kept me till they had order for my freedome; whilst I was with him, he communicated all that pass'd twixt himself and Erixone to me, and not finding himself fat all guilty of any thing, but the disdain of her base lust, he knew he could incurr only the hatred his aversion had bred in her, and could conceive no other reason for his imprisonment, but that she who had been so wicked, as to entertain so detestable a passion, taking a pique at his refusal, had certainly accus'd him of some horrid crime against his Father; these words bred new astonishment within me, for the opinion every one had lived in of Erixone's excelling vertues, seem'd to render this impossible; she had so craftily manag'd her affection, that none had ever discover'd the least spark: but it was more impossible for Theramene to speak falsely; I had a particular esteem for him, and the amity he [Page] honour'd me withal as his Privado, and confident in his most secret actions, was capable to perswade me to any thing. After I had made some short reflexions on so strange an accident, and had proffer'd him all that depended on my best services, on the assurance he was intirely possest of my Faith, he commanded me to see Learchus the same, that was present, as I told you, when Erixone accused Theramene before his Father, and because he was intimate with Ctesiphon, and that he alone was his chiefe counsellor, he thought I might learne some thing from him concerning his confinement.

Learchus was extremely my friend, an honest man, and one that had testify'd as much affection as respect towards the Prince, I went immediately to visit him, and having spoken somewhat of Theramene's imprisonment, he protested he was a stranger in the knowledge of it. The little astonishment however which appear'd in his words and actions, perswaded me that he was not altogether ignorant of the reason; therefore I sifted him more narrowly, and conjured him at last in the Princes name, to tell me what he knew. Learchus at this, looking earnestly upon me, answer'd, he much admir'd the Prince doubted of the cause, and sought to learn it from others, because he could not beleeve that Ctesiphon who loved him so tenderly would treate him so severely, unless he had most urgent reasons for it, and that his own conscience could better informe him, then any one beside. When I perceiv'd he spake so sparingly, I [Page] told him what Theramene suspected, he answer'd me, that there was more disguise then verity in that suspition, and that if the Prince were not minded to conceale his thoughts, I might as he beleev'd easily guess the subject of his disfavour. Not being able in fine to discover any further at that time, I made a faithful report of all he said to Theramene, and Learchus was as ready in relating all what I had asked him for Ctesiphon.

The Father blinded under the double vail of love and jealousy together, commanded Learchus to goe to the Prince, and reproach him how much his crime was offensive without adding this impudent disguise, and the effrontery to accuse her, whose innocency was fully enough vindicated, by the more then common care and goodness she imploy'd to excuse him. Learchus, speaking to Theramene on the behalf of Ctesiphon, punctually discharg'd the duty of a faithful subject: his amity towards the Prince could not make him swerve, and though it did imprint compassion for his misfortunes, his due obedience and the blackness of the crime, of which he was accus'd, oblig'd him to represent, with bitter reproaches, that guilt which mov'd him the more sensib [...], because he was most innocent of it.

The small change it wrought upon the Prince; abated the edge of his severity, he reade the motions of just anger upon his visage, and beheld the lineaments of persecuted vertue there, but not the least character of a guilty conscience, which usually imprints it selfs condemnation on [Page] the face, and therefore he gave a very willing and patient eare to the discourse he made in his own defence. And whether, or no, he were before perswaded of Theramenes fault, he now return'd in some doubt of his innocency, and was moreover inclining to a full beleefe of it, if that imbecillity which so ordinarily prepossesses men to credit the first impressions, had not yet suspended his opinion. The relation he made to Ctesiphon found not the same success, he rather would fasten the crime upon his son, then his wife, and Learchus had no small a doe to oppose the resolution he had taken to put him instantly to death, by shewing him how necessary it was to have more certaine evidence, and stronger proofes.

Erixone who well fore-saw, that if he had the leasure to devest himself of passion, and lure his reason to her seate again, which now did wildly flutter, he would scent out her secret projects, and turn the horrid tempest of revenge upon her head, mightily press'd to have him punished; Learchus defer'd it alwayes, and knew so wisely to interpose the importance of such a chastisement to Ctesiphon, that he yeilded to the Princes friends, and especially, to the Princess Arthemisa's moving prayers, to have him confronted with Erixone.

To this effect they brought Theramene forth of his prison, who appear'd before his father, and those that were assembled there, with as much noble confidence, as Erixone did with trembling feare: this infamous wretch had woven her subtill accusation [Page] with so many soft expressions of love towards her husband; and the Prince shaped his with such becoming respects for his dear Father, that as I have already hinted, every one having so faire an opinion of both their vertues, would needs beleeve they were both innocent, and could not tell on whom to lay the guilt. The necessity hoever of deciding this controversy, divided their opinions, and as it is impossible our inclinations should be balanced so equally, as not to weigh more towards one then another, either of them had partisans, who did suspect the others crime and defend their beleeved innocency.

Amongst those who more particularly interressed themselves, one Tarsus embraced Erixone's cause, and Learchus stood for the Princes: the first insisted with more noise and heate, but the second with more plenty of reason, insomuch that the difficulty to give a certain judgement plung'd Ctesiphon into such strange perplexities, that according to the various motions of his trouble, he sensibly touch'd the Peoples hearts with pitty. What said he, have I summoned you here to leave me in the labyrinth of a doubt, I thought your judgements would have soon unravil'd? And if we have no cleerer proofes of the crime and innocency, with what justice can we chastice the one, and recompense the other? Cruell inquietudes, how am I involv'd what to judge of my wife, or son? Oh sad necessity which fatally ordains me to loose one or other, if heaven would needs find me an enemy, could it not with more justice have cul'd out any others, but such as owes me as much love, as I did cherish for them; but what shall we deliberate[Page]in fine? Speake wife, reply my Son? to which of you am I become so hateful, which must I loose of the two that are so infinitely deare unto me, and to whom I never wanted in my affection. The love I beare to her, makes him appeare as guilty; and when I turne my thoughts on him, she stands a criminal offendor in my eye? [...]ove? — Nature? Come hither joyntly to defend your rights. Nature thy plea, is first, but love thine is more pressing you, both sollicite with extreme earnestness: but which must I obey? The one moves with more tenderness, the other with more vehemency. Shall I bow to compassion? Or give the reines up to my raging anger? Oh gods? He gave passage to three or foure sighs, which stop'd the further enlarging his complaints, viewing them both with lookes which beam'd with love and hatred together, whilst Theramene wholly interrupted him saying, Cease deare Father, cease these cruel moanes that torment you, you may at the same moment satisfy both your compassion and revenge, I am worthy of the one, but am not culpable of the other, and if nevertheless Erixone or Theramene must perish to appease you, never make it a doubt to which of these you are to give the preheminence, though I am clearly innocent of the crime I am accus'd of, yet I will joyfully sacrifice a life to your repose, of which I hold the lease only from heaven, and you my, death may justly expiate for Erixones crime, since I am cause of it, and if the consideration of loosing a child doe hinder, she is young enough to bring you many more, and perhaps you may never meete another woman that you could love with so much heate of passion.

[Page] Erixone would have spoken likewise▪ who during his discourse had by her often shifted countenance given many infallible tokens of her crime, if any one had studiously perus'd it: but Ctesiphon starting up, much troubled, commanded the Officers to return with the Prince, and retir'd himself to his Closet, whence coming forth again, Erixone who attended him, threw her self at his feet, and feigning a despair, fearing her life in danger, she sob'd forth these words before a great number of people. Wherefore do you defer my death, my Lord, if you esteem me guilty? Is it because you know, that it would be a more welcome punishment than the suspition you have of my infidelity: Yes my Lord, I have plainly discern'd, that Theramene's artificial plea has gain'd more credit than my single vertue, 'tis fit you should ruine a woman to preserve a Traytor, because he is your only Son and heir, I shall appeal no farther, but to give this last assured and becoming testimony of my love, I am resolv'd to dye for him, since in the doubt you dwell, I can no longer be affected by you. Ctesiphon would not suffer her to say any more, but amorously embracing and raising her up, he reply'd thus: It is too true, Madam, that I offend your vertue extreamly by not punishing your false accuser: but pardon a Fathers tenderness towards his Son. I wrong'd my self most in this case, since I oppos'd my own hottest desires, which makes me languish to deserve as great returns of love from you, as I cherish for you: the evidences which you give me of your affection, oblige me to a full retaliation, and are sufficient to assert the crime of that perfidious child, whose sudden chastisement shall satisfie your vertue, and my provoked anger. He told her a great [Page] deal more, which we heard not, because he led her into an adjoyning Chamber, where he spent some time alone with her.

There he resolv'd poor Theramene should dye, but the most secretly that might be possible, to prevent the clamour, and commotions of the people, and some Officers who dearly respected him. This black design however could not be contrived so secretly, but one might easily see it on wicked Erixones joyful face, which she endeavour'd notwithstanding to hide, by a dissembled intermissive sorrow for her Husbands trouble. Arthemisa who watch'd incessantly to preserve her brother, was advertis'd secretly by some that Theramene had but a short space to live, and that it was high time to set all possible means a work to save him.

She had discover'd a clandestine intelligence betwixt Erixone and Tarsus, which gave her much apprehension, because she knew that man ambitious in the highest nature, and one capable of any mischief. In this streight of necessity, she endeavour'd by several stratagems to deliver her brother, she tryed to tempt his Keepers with the, seldome failing, power of Gold and Silver, and courted many people of worth and quality to steal him thence: but finding all those wayes block'd up with too much difficulty, and that it would but make him more guilty in his Fathers jealous mind to attempt escape, she decreed to hazard one means, which she did honour me with, the knowledge of the performance, of which generous design, she shew'd as much judgement, as affection and tenderness to Theramene.

[Page] Ctesiphon the closer to conceal his pernicious intentions against his Son, treated him with less severity then he had done before, his friends had the liberty to visit him, and Arthemisa feigning to go for some dayes to a Country House, twenty Leagues distant from the City, would take her farewell of him. The respect all gave her, facilitated her Noble design: every one retyr'd when she came to the Prince, and then seeing her self alone, she in a few words propounded the intention she had to change habits with him, that she might remain in his stead in the Prison, whilst he escap'd in her disguise. Theramene being at first surpriz'd with this proposition, would have offer'd some considerations on this enterprize, and especially the perill he should leave her under: but Arthemisa not giving him the leasure to consult his prudence, quickly made him disroabe himself, and drest him in her own cloaths. If their separation had not been so sudden, Theramene would have express'd more fully to his dearest Sister, how much this rare effect of love obliged him: but finding himself compell'd to be gone, after they had embrac'd with infinite affection, he quitted her, and passing through the midst of the two first Courts of Guard, he acted her part and gesture so handsomly, that the Souldiers deluded by the perfect resemblance of his visage, which neverthelesse he hid in part, and his shape and habit, thought him to be Arthemisa.

He was already descended into the first Court, and now thought he had no more to fear, when [Page] looking towards the Gate he perceiv'd Sitalces coming, the Nepveu of Tarsus, who in the Confrontation had pleaded for Erixone: This sight at first amaz'd him, but quickly recovering and imboldning himself, he hastned his pace to meet him under the Gate, which being more obscure he judged it would the better cover his disguise; yet he could not prevent Sitalces from abording him before he came to it, who espying him afar off, and thinking him to be the Princess, had imediately alighted, and came with more then ordinary speed to meet him. I am confident you are in as much impatience to know the successe of this rencontre as Theramene was in fear, however he counterfeited as well as he could possibly the Princesse Civility, and excusing his great haste, because it was very late, went with a winged diligence to his Sisters Chariot, which waited at the Gate, without being discover'd.

I attended near that Road by which the Princess went to the Castle, with a dozen of my intimate friends, about two miles distant in a thick wood, where as soon as he arrived, not staying so long as to change his Cloaths, we mounted him on Horse-back, and swiftly gallop'd through many by-wayes to a little Town whereof I was Governour, reaching thither after midnight: And after we had there refreshed our Selves alittle while changing our Horses, we bent our course towards Armenia, where we were received by Artaban and Tygranes his Son, with all the civil respect we could desire. But whilst Theramene is in security, and puts the whole Court to their [Page] wonder at his rare qualities, let us step back alittle to Arthemisa, and see in what manner she receives Sitalces, who instantly demanded to see the Prince, and whom she had discovered out of her Window when he aborded her brother, not knowing what had pass'd since. The fear which that doubt had thrown on her, taught her to send him word that being somewhat indisposed, and desiring to take alittle rest, there was no possibility of receiving a visit that day. Sitalces satisfied with that excuse, without suspecting any further, returned to Court again, with the newes of this feigned Malady: Erixone was presently Alarmed with it, and fearing this sickness might rob her of the Subject of her revenge, she went immediately to Ctesiphon and solicited him to send to know the verity. The Messenger could not come to see her, because She made as if She soundly slept, the longer to conceal her self, and give her Brother the more scope to get away, so that after he had throughly informed himself of those that waited usually on Theramene, he reported to Ctesiphon that the Prince was taken ill, but since the departure of Arthemisa.

Erixone who was of an extraordinary malicious and distrustful Spirit, began to entertain some doubts, that the Princes indisposition was onely a pretence whereby to forge some means for an escape, which perhaps Arthemisa or some other had undertaken to manage for him. The absence of that Princess, mine and my friends together increas'd her Inquietudes and Conjectures, so that she resolv'd either to lose her [Page] hopes of full revenge, or bring it to effect the night following. At the same moment she sought out Ctesiphon, and knew so well by pressing discourses, to represent the likelihood of her suspitions, and hide her own guilt of conscience, that the unhappy father consented to put his Son to death before he should have opportunity to perfect his Intended flight, which they believed was projected, and which the Subtil Erixone had urg'd would be her husbands ruine. Ctesiphon gave warrant presently, and Tarsus had the Commission to provide Executioners, and see it performed; the night was extreamly tenebrous, and I believe the Heavens had spread their blackest Sables to masque their sight from such a horrid spectacle, and withall secure Theramene in his Journey: when Athemisa heard a rude knocking at her Chamber Door, where none had yet entered since she dissembled sleep. This Insolence, and the sufficient time she thought she had procured her brother for his safety, made her fling open the Door immediately: When the Captain of the Guard advancing himself, presented her a Letter, which contain'd the Sentence for Theramene to dye, sign'd with his Fathers own hand. She had no sooner read it, but ere that Officer could have the time to discover her, she with a gallant Confidence ask'd for the Executioners which were appointed, and he that had brought the Order; When Tarsus approached to make a bad excuse, that against the inclination he had to serve him, he was constrain'd to obey the Kings absolute command, who would needs by this Act [Page] make a particular tryal of his Fidelity. Arthemisa could not contain her self any longer, but was confirmed in the Opinion she had conceived, that the close Intellegence this Wicked Fellow held with Erixone was an effect of Love and Inclination: I had reason, Hang-man, said she to him, to expect this Commission sooner from thee then any other, 'tis this thou hast so long been hammering with Erixone, and sure enough thou hast promis'd Theramene's Head to that Lustful Adultresse for an acknowledgement of her wanton Favours, but thanks to Heaven and their Justice, thou art deceiv'd Tarsus, thou shalt not this day take away my Dearest Brothers Life: But if thy black Commission extends to Arthemisa, fulfill it Traytor, come Command thy cruel Ministers to Destroy me, I will not oppose, provided I can but save my Theramene; Here she discovered her self, and surprized all that were present with that astonishment, which you may better guesse then I discribe. Tarsus wrapt with amazement at this Accident, and the just reproaches she assaulted him withal, retreated sneakingly without a word, and presently gave information thereof to Ctesiphon and Erixone, whom he found together; the one buried in sadness and discontent for being obliged to murther a Son, the other netled with impatience to hear the certainty of his death, whose life was so obnoxious to her. It seem'd that Ctesiphon, though he were not yet penitent for his fault, shew'd no great signes of displeasure for his Childs escape by Arthemisa's aid, but keeping his wonted posture of deep Melancholy, he told Erixone she must excuse a Sisters indulgent [Page] affection towards her Brother, because it sprung but from the root of Nature and Reason: but that she must expect the punishment of his crime would fall upon his head from Heaven it self, since 'twas not in their power, and he believed the gods reserved this vengeance to themselves to make it the more weighty, and exemplary.

Whilst this disconsolate Father, after his trouble had made him chuse his bed, began to think of tenderness towards his Children; Erixone's Sentiments flow'd from another Spring, her dispair made her distracted with rage, she entertain'd no other designes, but to sacrifice all she could to her own safety, and to Authorize her first crime by a greater, she wrote a Ticket to Tarsus, by which she injoyn'd him to come to her, as soon as day appear'd, to settle their affairs, it being no longer convenient to boggle or dissemble, but to secure their lives and their contentment, to the destruction and cost of all those that might oppose them. The trouble and perplexity she was in, made her utterly forget the strickt order which Ctesiphon, at her importunate Solicitation, had given that evening, to suffer none to go forth least they should use some means to stop the Execution of his Son: so that it hapned to be intercepted, though he that carried it had Authorized his Message with the name of Erixone, and it was immediately delivered to Ctesiphon, according to the command impos'd on all the Officers. There was no need to rouze him from his sleep, the wracking thoughts which were his bed-fellows [Page] with their unquietness had ever kept him waking, and when they presented the Ticket to him, the passions he had towards Erixone were newly entred in his mind. He was powerfully surpriz'd, finding such secret correspondence twixt her and Tarsus, which he was ignorant of before: but prepossess'd with love and fondness, he at first imagin'd that she summon'd him rather to assert her innocency, then to back her crime: but presently these thoughts were shoulder'd out again, to make way for the suspitions, his jealousie began to inspire, and till morning was renew'd; he lay in a most cruel agony of trouble, and then hastily arose to speak with Erixone, who expected Tarsus with a strange impatience.

I must impose a necessary silence on my tongue, and intreat your Judgements to conceive how infinitely she was surpriz'd when Ctesiphon entred her Chamber, and accosted her with this demand, What need She had of Tarsus for her safety, and if he were not sufficient to protect her from any Enemy, what disorder she apprehended in her affairs, what business she had conceal'd so secretly, which the present conjuncture obliged her no longer to dissemble; in a word, who were those that durst have attempted against her life? This discourse so affrighted her, that being admonished by her guilty conscience, she wanted little of casting her self at his feet, to supplicate for pardon of those crimes she thought he had discovered: but being extreamly impudent, with the same bold confidence she had undertaken them, she pleaded excuse [Page] for having been obliged to ask the councel of Tarsus, whom she knew to be a man so faithful, and affectionate in his Princes Service, to defend her innocency openly, which was the more subject to suspition, because persecuted by his own Children, whose interest she knew his own natural instinct would sooner incline him to vindicate then hers: and that it was not the care to save her life that troubled her, but to maintain her honour, to prevent his unjust jealousie from charging her excessive love with blame, which she preserved so devoutly towards him. Ctesiphon having answered her dissembled expressions of feigned affection with his more sincere acknowledgements, returned thence, as fully perswaded and satisfied, as was possible with her discourse, As soon as ere he had quitted the Chamber, Tarsus arrived there, to whom she made ample relation of the success of that accident, which so much startled him that she began to fear he would not have the resolution to perform what she had already projected.

In this apprehension she courted and solicited him by all the probable considerations, and especially those of ambition and love, to consent to her design; and in fine, perceiving he still waver'd, she represented the danger and last extremity of their affairs so pressingly, that as dispair steeles the most leaden courage, she engaged him in all her undertakings, and least his blood should coole, or his Spirit turn edge thorow long delay, she put him immediately to carry on the Plot, going to her Husband, just when Arthemisa [Page] was come out of the Prison, to justifie what she had acted to save her Brothers Life. And ere she gave her leasure to take any notice, she highly prais'd her for the generous amity she had shown to Theramene, esteeming her self unhappy the severe Laws of honour forbid her the like pitty, Arthemisa who could no longer endure the perfidious hypocrisy of that Woman, broke forth into bitter reproaches, and had undoubtedly convinc'd her, if Ctesiphon who was offended they should Characterize the person he loved, so detestably infamous, had not imposed silence, and told her, she should be contented to have rob'd her Brother from his just vengeance, without maintaining his crime so insolently: the obedience she ow'd her father, made her silent, and Ctesiphon having withdrawn himself into his Closet, she disdainfully left Erixone, who would have entertain'd her, and whom this discourtesie precipitated to that horrid attempt she studied against Ctesiphon, with the more eagernesse and spite.

Of all the wayes she had bethought her self for her cruel purpose, the most secret seemed the most facile Her inclination feeding her with the sad delight of mischief, she had particularly bent her mind to know many experiments of poyson, and amongst the secrets which you know those of Colchus are very curious to study; She found one which she thought most fit to imploy in this design, the virtue whereof was to make the person miserably languish upon whom it was practiz'd, casting them after some [Page] time into a Lethargy past cure. None could suspect her in the least to have caused that consumption which daily wasted Ctesiphon, the world attributing his malady to those displeasures and misfortunes which invaded his Family.

In the mean time the news came, that Theramene was refugiated in Armenia, and Arthemisa received Letters by an expresse, who informed her that Artaban was sending Embassadours to her Father, either to clear the innocency of his Son, or to obtain the pardon for his offence if any were. These tidings did somewhat alleviate the affliction she was in for her Fathers indisposition, who every day sensibly decay'd. Soon after the Armenian Ambassadours Arriv'd together with the Prince Tygranes, who would needs accompany them in person the better to Sollicite for Theramenes favour and return, whose eminent virtues had particularly acquired his Friendship. Had not Ctesiphon been in the extremity of danger for his life, their coming would absolutely have thrown the wicked Erixone into dispair: that unhappy Father began to regret the absence of his Son, and blame his own rash hast, that had condemned him without any other evidence then his own passionate anger, and his Wives interest, who knowing well that if he once return'd, her impostures would be unmasqu'd, and laid open to every eye, was preparing to impede his coming, or prevent it, when the poor Ctesiphon by his death left her a power & fit opportunity to maintain that crime, and commit many fresh ones.

[Page]Every one bemoan'd this loss with sigh's and tears, but Erixone did so far out-Act a Theatrical dissimulation in her regret and mournings, that even Arthemisa who perfectly knew her false heart, and had her own Soul filled with the sharpest grief, could not but be moved with it, and for a while doubted if it were possible that a woman could show so many signes of deep affliction for a husband she had betray'd her self so treacherously, and whose impudent deceit stretch'd so much further, as to intreat the Prince Tygranes and the Ambassadours, to hasten Theramene's return withal convenient speed, whom she most willingly pardon'd, that he might come and settle himself in his due Succession, thereby to ease her of the cares and troubles of Governing the State, which she had took into her management only to keep things in good order till his Arrival: that afterwards in a more solitary retreat, she might have full scope sadly to bewail, with becoming Tears and Sorrows, the loss of that Dear Husband, who during Life, she loved with all the respect and tendernes that any woman is capable of.

Who ever could believe Treason should lurk under such specious showes; her Crocodile craft deluded the most prudent and concern'd. The Ambassadours returned better satisfied from her, then they had been by Ctesiphon, and Tygranes remained charm'd with Arthemisa's excelling beauties, to whom he had already protested the assurance of his Love and Services.

How be it when every thing seem'd to be [Page] hush'd in peace, and all their troubles in Colchus buried with Ctesiphon, Erixone who continually watched the issue of her projects, being inform'd the Prince was coming from Armenia, sent the choicest of the Country to receive him on the borders, whom Tygranes at her request, and to oblige Arthemisa accompanied with much State and Magnificence: But Oh gods what a Reception, what Entertainment was it, what Treason more black, or detestable, then she now dip'd her hands in, could the most cursed instrument of malice ever have invented? The Young Prince who thought he was fairly invited to come and take the full possession of his Inheritance, and that Erixone by a generous and sincere repentance had wip'd out her grievous faults, had already drowned the remembrance of all his troubles in the Sea of promised hopes to enjoy a more tranquil Life, when the execrable rage which Erixone and Tarsus had hatched against him, burst forth. He thought of nothing less, and only studied handsomly to answer the many Testimonies of his Friends affections, and especially Tygranes. Here, Hippocratides interrupted his Discourse, and they were all oblig'd to put off the continuation till another opportunity, to meet Cyrus whom they saw coming towards them through another alley, with an action which had the face of much inquietude and anger.

They were not long without knowing the Cause, Cyrus as soon as he came near them, complained as if Artabase had contributed [Page] somewhat towards his discontent, because Cyaxares had given him that antient Prince his kinsman as a pledge of their good intelligence, and faithful correspondence. Artabase said he to him, Give me an Account of my Ʋncles intentions, tell me pray what designes had he when he put the sword into my hands, and what reason at present, whilst he at ease enjoyes the Sweetness and benefit of that Victory I purchas'd, to blast the Lawrels of my Triumph, and blemish the beauty of my Glory by the unhandsome treatements, and ignoble pursutes he practices to ravish the Honour of Tygranes Sister.

Write to him Artabase, that his passion misguides him, and makes him forget how I put Birinthea into his hands as a most vertuous Princess, in quality of an hostage, and not as a slave, and that without infringing the respect I owe him, I will protect fair vertue, and punctually satisfie those promises I have sworn, to answer for her fitting entertainment where ever she be. And you, continued he, generous Prince, addressing his Speech to Tygranes: Suffer me to joyn my interests to yours, and leave me the care to preserve your Sisters Honour, I shall have power enough, since I have so much Justice, and reason to tame my Ʋncles unruly passion; Yes said he, Turning again to Artabase, I give all the Medes that will, free leave to returne, I shall not desire to with hold one here; Conduct them, Artabase, to their Prince, against whose passion I openly declare my self an Enemy.

Artabase having protested he would never forsake him, complain'd at the same time for the ill [Page] opinion he had of him, in that he thought him so weak, as to abandon vertues cause, to embrace vices, as if he wanted judgment to distinguish what obedience he owed to his Prince to whose will he must be indispensably subject, onely so long as he maintain'd it reasonable. The Medes that waited upon Cyrus repeated the very same, and they immediately went to the Camp, professing by their shouts and acclamations they would never leave him.

In the mean time Artabase who was ignorant of the Cause of Cyrus's anger, and patiently received his reproaches, was very Joyful to understand it from a friend who had been in presence when the Messenger that Abracome had sent to Cyrus from Media related how Cyaxares tyr'd with his vain pursuits, and Birinthea's constant virtue, was resolv'd to satisfie his beastly passion what ever hapned, and having already raised a doubtfull comment on Abracomes Journey to Cyrus, the further Intelligence of an old woman, whom he had placed as a wary spie over all her Actions, had made him absolutely jealous: and being confirmed in those fears and doubts, he had privately sent her into some concealed place, which could not yet be discovered.

When Artabase, whose long experience had taught him much prudence, heard this News, he presently guess'd the importance of that quarrel this might beget betwixt the Uncle and his Nepveu, if the interest of their passions should foment it, the one having the subject of the injury in his power, and the other the means [Page] to revenge it: therefore he dispatch'd a Messenger of his own with him that Cyrus sent back to Cyaxares, to inform him by divers considerations of the many disorders that would inevitably follow, the unwarrantable rashness of his affection, and the unhandsome blemish it would cast upon his Nepveus victory and reputation.

Cyrus cruelly combated betwixt his love, for Birinthea, and choller at her imprisonment, so conceal'd, was almost resolv'd under a disguise to goe and learne further concerning it, and if the uncertainty to find her had not stop'd him, he had given up the advantage his sword had already gain'd upon the Assyrians, to render the homages and service to his Princes which were secretly vowed. He nevertheless, was ballanced a long time on the thoughts of going into Media, the letter from Birinthea pressing him so earnestly, and beleeving his presence would have more influence then Abracomes: but when he was in some manner fully resolved, the incertainty whether it were best to goe secretly to release her, or openly declare himself her Protector, or rather her lover suspended him: he fear'd if he should hide his person with his passion, he could not become considerable enough to perform any thing: and on the other hand, he apprehended to make too cleer a discovery of his heart to that man, whose bare suspitions made him already jealous, and if he did resolve on either of these wayes, then a new doubt stept in, whether he should imploy perswasion, or power for her liberty, though he were confident, amity would never be able to [Page] match his unckles love. In fine, pruning himself with better hopes from Birintheas prudence, and noble vertue, then any expectation of what he might perform: he design'd to march towards his Enemies, and divert his sadness by some other actions against the Assyrians (on whom he discharged the effects of a smart anger) till he might heare some gentler news of his Princess.

To this purpose, he gave order next day for all his men to be in a readiness to march, and being with-drawn together with the Hircanian Prince, and Gobrias on whose experience he leaned very much, he inquir'd of many particulars concerning the country, that might advantage his designe of breaking and shattering the Assyrian puissance, who seemed to refuse to cope with him ever since their first defeate, indeavouring without open force or opposition, to ruine and moulder away his army by idleness, which in a strange Country does oft-times come to pass for want of action.

The Counsell of these two great men outweigh'd the generosity of his ambition which blindly prompted him to undertake every thing that seem'd to contribute to his glory, he joyn'd in opinion with them, to tempt the division of their forces by enticing away a great party of their men who served the Assyrians only out of feare and constraint. The Hircanian Prince promis'd to gain the Sacques and Caducians, if they could find the way to approach but neere them, which was full of difficulty, because they were to cross a great part of Syria: but Gobrias levell'd [Page] that hindrance, and assured Cyrus that Gadate who was principal Governor of most part of the Country they were to pass by, would not at all molest them, being confident to draw him on their fide, knowing of a long time that he desired to avenge himself on Vectorez, by whom he was inhumanely affronted, and this fit opportunity being presented, he nothing doubted, but that worthy Prince would gladly lay hold of it with as much courage as ressentment, and that he freely proffer'd himself to this purpose to treate with him, but only one obstacle interpos'd, which would be a main rub in this negotiation, for which he saw no remedy but was very hazardous. Gadate was at that instant in Babylon, whose gates were closs shut up and guarded, into which place it was no less difficult to send letters then men, besides that Cyrus could not well get into his Countries without passing his Army very neer that great City, which enclosed the whole Assyrian power within her walls whose numbers swel'd far above that of the Persians and Medes

Cyrus who could endure nothing, which oppos'd his valour, and took all for affronts that thwarted his designs, made Gobrias know by many urgent considerations, that what he reckoned as so many blocks in his way to conquer, were but steps which would the sooner raise him to his noble ends, the Assyrians having lock'd themselves within the bull-warks of that Citty, only out of principles of feare, and this would but augment it doubly, if he drew up so neere them; that their numbers were rather an argument to dispise [Page] and slight, then apprehend a danger from thence, because as amongst generous soldiers, the more their are of them, the greater is their confidence and courage, so likewise amongst degenerate Cowards, their multitudes does but augment their dread and terror, and he doubted not but their present fright, would at his presence turn to a general confusion, when they beheld him before their gates, circled with that victorious Army that had already defeated them, when they were in the height of confidence and pride, and far more numerous, it being likely that the sick, and wounded souldiers, and such as yet wept the loss of their dear friends in the last battle, made up a greater number in Babylon, then those that were in a fit condition to make any considerable salley upon them at that time, whereby to hinder the present designe and expedition.

The End of the Second Book.

Birinthea The Third Book.

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THe next morning at the first birth of day he led his Army directly towards the province of Babylon, & arriv'd at the confines thereof, after four dayes march, & there having reserv'd those whom he judg'd to be the choicest, and most faithful of his troopes to remain with himself, he commanded the rest to ravage and scoure the Country, and not give quarter to any that were found in arm's The spoile which these plunderers brought in was very considerable, and after the Priests had made choice of what they esteemed most precious for their gods, and that he had distributed somewhat to the souldiers, he bestowed the remainder, with the consent, and in the name of the Army, freely upon Gobrias, in retaliation of that noble treatment [Page] they had all received at his hands. He afterwards ranged his Army in Battalia, which he caused to march within sight of that proud City, towards which he dispatched a trumpetter with Gobrias; who being approached neer the walls, told an Officer whom the sentinel had advertiz'd, that he came on the behalf of Cyrus to challenge Vectorez to a single combat, or if he desired rather to have a general one, the Persians and Medes would be ready to meet him in the next plain. This generous defy did not so much gall the Assyrian King, as the dispite of having it brought by a man that was borne his Subject, and to whom he was so inveterate an Enemy. He return'd him answer by the advice of his cheif Counsellors, whom he straightway-assembled for this purpose, that concerning the proposition of a Combat, he was so surpris'd, that he found himself not yet disposed either to receive, or give it, till a moneth after, at which time he promised to satisfy Cyrus his desire, and that for his own particular, the most sensible displeasure he felt was to have let Gobrias survive one moment after Melzune.

Cyrus having heard this answer, thought that his honour obliged him to give the Assyrians the leasure to be able to make his Victory the more compleat and glorious by a more vigorous resistance, and therefore drew off his Army: but not to let them rust in idleness, he took a resolution to goe into Gadates Countrys, thereby to oblige him to come out and defend them, and by this meanes find some opportunity to treate with [Page] him. Gadate who was within Babylon, had no sooner intelligence of the Enemies march, but he straight went forth with those forces which he commanded, to oppose Cyrus; which Gobrias having immediately understood by his scouts, he sent him a Gentleman of a try'd fidelity, who making a show of plundring the Country with some few troopers, was willingly taken by the Assyrians, who conducted him into the presence of Gadate, by whom he was known to belong to Gobrias whose intimate friend he was, and having received him very civilly, he inquir'd of his Masters health and affaires, upon which the Gentleman taking an occasion to speak with him in private, presented him a letter of Credence from Gobrias, and assured him by word of mouth of the protection which Cyrus proffer'd him against Vectorez if he would quit his party, as he had abundant reason to doe. This proposition presently awaken'd the desires Gadate had to revenge himself of that Tyrant, and therefore without much consultation, he instantly resolv'd to send the Gentleman back secretly, to certify Cyrus that he would suddenly come in to him: but not to give my body cause to suspect their private intelligence, he craved only the time to dispose of those things which might prove obstacles to his designe, and in the interim it appeared very requisite to him that Cyrus should draw neere, and make as if he would besiedge a place which he named, that so getting into it under a colour of relieving it, he might by some small salies dispute the delivering of the place, till such time as he [Page] should find occasion to surrender it handsomely into his possession: as he very plausibly did after he had made a capitulation that was honorable, feigning that he yeilded out of necessity of provisions, to which they had reduced him. At his leaving of this City, he went to waite on Cyrus, before whom he prostrated himself according to the custome of that Nation with the most profound adorations.

If the respect wherewith Gadate saluted Cyrus were extraordinary, the civility that was return'd him was no less; he expres'd so much affability and honor by his caresses, that Gadate was fully satisfied and comforted in finding so generous a Protector against the Tyrant Ʋectorez.

Cyrus after he had a while entertain'd him, was desirous to know the cause which could excuse that infidelity and rebellion against a Prince, whom nature and his birth had made to be his Soveraign. Gadate would have made the relation to him: but Cyrus intreated him to repose himself in a Tent, prepared for him after the toiles of his siege, whilst he would heare the story from those of his servants, who best knew the secrets of it. So Gadate taking his leave to retire, commanded his Esquire to rehearse all the particulars, who approaching neer Cyrus, began in this manner.

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The History of Gadate and Chryseide.

MY Master upon less grounds then now he has, might very justly have dispenc'd with the Obedience he owes Victorez, and you will quickly find, that he is too generous to have forsaken that party, if that Tyrant had not constrained him by such cruelty as is above all example, in not only denying his Subjects the Liberty of innocent actions: but even the most becoming and Ligitimate desires as will appear by the following discourse.

You may have remarked, that besides the advantages of his Birth and Condition, there are other very considerable qualities in my Masters person, which Nature has with a liberal hand bestow'd upon him, which made him esteemed amongst all the Grandees in the Assyrian Court. He was especially respected of all the Ladies in General: but amongst those whose affection he had particularly acquir'd, she who was the most passionately in Love with him, was also the most unhappy. She was the Widdow of a great Lord, who had lived but five or six moneths with her: but Young, and Handsome if ever any were. The King Affected her above all the Ladies of the Court, and Chryseide, so was she named, who was prepossess'ed with the affection she had towards Gadate, generously refused that which so many others eagerly sought to obtain with all the Arts they could.

[Page] Vectorez who was as much concerned for her disdain as her beauty, first sought all the means imaginable to make her read and understand his passion: he imploy'd a thousand grateful passtimes to charm that god, who has nothing of Childishness in him but his stature, and who in his littleness may justly vaunt he is the great Father, and Universal cause of all things. But finding her entertainment very cold, and at a distance, and having an opinion, that he should rather be courted then denyed, he judged that what opposed his contentment, must needs be the consideration of some rival, who had taken possession of her heart and fancy. These thoughts prompted him to ordain spies to uncover that fair Ladies Actions: but what vigilancy or care so ere they used, they could not lay hold of the least conjecture of her Love; she having ever conceal'd it with great discretion, believing it was not befitting the Reputation of a Woman, to anticipate Gadate by a too evident sign, or any Declaration that might leave the Print of her shame written in the blushes of her Cheeks.

The King having lost a great deal of time without any hope of success to his content that way, imagin'd that to make her sensible of the worth of his esteem for her, he must feign it lost as towards her, and bestow it upon one of her Neeces, whose Name was Prinea, with whom she entertain'd a strickt League of Amity: that being moved with envy, and the disdain he should testifie towards her, she might ressent the loss of his Affection, and endeavour to redeem his favour [Page] again. This Plot might perhaps have taken effect had it been practized towards any other but Chryseide, because that fair Sex, to whom the highest respect is due, are the less able to suffer disdain, by how much they challenge respect as a particular Tribute due to them. But it wrought no change in her, only in stead of receiving a sensible displeasure for having lost that Noble prey out of her toyles and chains, she manifested how much his love was troublesome, and importunate to her that could by no means correspond in the same terms with him again, though he were a person to whom she ow'd the greatest respect and reverence of any in the World.

The success of this stratagem in fine betray'd the intention of Vectorez, and instead of subduing the Will and Affections of Chryseide to him by this craft, he ingaged Prinea by those false Testimonies of love he acted to a most violent passion for him, and this Bizarre event caus'd infinite disorder and trouble to him, for that his dissimulation had produced a real love in the one, & his real love had not been powerful enough to gain a civil Correspondency from the other. This made him dispair, the other was importunate and clamorous, and that which added most to his trouble was to have raised such an Enemy against her, he so dearly loved. Prinea knowing what a bar the remembrance of Chryseide was to her affection, beheld her as a rival who disputed her the Crown and Scepter: So that she perpetually watched to hinder Victorez [Page] from Meeting and Conferring with her; who had not so well dissembled, but some flames of that Love he cherish'd, for Chryseide appeared thorow his false masque: Insomuch that the unadvised Prince seem'd in this Act to become his own cruel Executioner: himself having twisted that fatal Cord of his own misfortune which even strangled his greatest hopes; for had not he feined Love to Prinea, she never had oppos'd or struggled so much against his desires and content. He was many times in the mind to discover his mind, end cast himself at Chryseides feet to implore her pardon: but knowing her to be extream haughty, and Nobly Generous, the fear to reveal those poor unhandsome Arts he had practised to vanquish her, which in all probability would but encrease her aversion, hindred him for some time: But as his shame did moderate and curb his impatience, so his Love press'd and spurr'd him with a most strange violence. And he in fine was constrain'd to declare himself openly; but not having so much resolution as to present himself before her, whom he had seemingly slighted, he rather chose to write a letter, in these following expressions.

Victorez to Chryseide.

Beauteous Chryfeide, I do not aske your pardon, before I aske your Punishment for a fault, which the excesse of my Love might nevertheless excuse, since that alone is guilty: acknowledge it Chryfeide, you having given it Birth, and if the disguise [Page] I have made use of to cover it, have wronged your merit; do you ordain the punishment and satisfastion, being my Soveraign, and I shall have this one advantage at least, that you will be obliged to recompence the perseverance, after you have chastized the Crime. Let not that which I feined towards Prinea, offend you Chryseide, those false appearances betrayed the Sentiments of my Soul, and I have already suffer'd enough in the constraint I was engag'd to, rendring her the Testimonies of an Affection which never were truly address'd to any but your self: but if you are not yet satisfied with my Repentance; I will present my self in person before you, my Dear Princess, to receive from your fair Mouth the Punishment, you shall vouchsafe to pronounce, and hope by that Submission you shall find, that I am the most real, and most affectionate of all your slaves.

Vectorez.

If Chryseide received this Letter with a great deal of wonder, not imagining the King thought now in the least of Love to her, she read it with no less displeasure, finding her self again persecuted by one, from whose importunate suite she blest her late hoped delivery. She sent him word, That it seem'd he relied very strongly upon her discretion, since he did not fear least she might, Publish that Embassy to Prinea, who alone received offence by his dissimulation: if it were true he had fein'd Love to a person, whose Beauty merited a more true passion, and whose ambition would hardly brook so great an affront; [Page]that for her part she would never be wanting in her devoir, which was ever to bear a greater respect and veneration, then Love towards her Soveraign Prince.

This Answer brought the amorous Vectorez into the opinion which flatter'd his passion, he now thought Chryseide had been more civil then cruel, and that having perceiv'd the difference there is between the receiving the adorations or disdain of her Soveraign, she had acknowledg'd her errour by that word of respect, which ought to be construed in the mouth of a Subject, and a woman for an expression of Love, which the mear modesty of that sex forbids them to express more plainly. He could give himself no repose or respit till he waited on her, to be confirmed in his flattering opinion: but the presence of Chryseide which he guess'd so favourable to his interpretation, quickly undeceived him. Not that she was wanting in what she had promised: for at his reception, she treated him as a King: but as soon as he laid by that Magistick Garb to assume the Person of a Lover, she express'd all that froideur and coynes, which is practized ordinarily by such as have not the least sentiment or spark of affection. Vectorez was most sensibly netled at this entertainment; and perceiving all his submissions and Cajolleries were fruitless, he proceeded to Menaces; and told her at parting, that since he was better treated when he acted as King towards her, he would henceforth never change that quality, that so he might make use of the power that preheminence gave him, to obtain that which she refused so proudly both [Page] to his Prayers, and submissions.

These threats imprinted so much fear in Chryseide's heart, who was acquainted with Vectorez violent Nature if provoked, that she decreed absolutely to seek all possible means whereby she might decently make known her inclination to Gadate: that so obliging him by affection to joyne to her interests, she might be the more able to resist all that Vectorez could indeavour and design against her repose and honour. Gadate who had all the Sentiments of a heart truly generous, quickly perceiving by the looks Chryseide secretly level'd at him to invade his liberty, what it was she desired from him, would not dispute the Conquest much; but having seriously consider'd the Merits and Virtue of that amiable Woman: bestow'd all his affections on her as a person whom he was bound to Love and Honour intirely.

On the other hand Prinea, whose envious jealousie made her continually watch and study her ruine, that seemed to rob her of Vectorez heart, whose false-hood since he forsook her, had sensibly affronted her Reputation, was the first that discover'd the affection which these two Lovers would yet have clouded from the eye of the World, till such time as they had setled their affairs in such a posture as to out-bid all fear and opposition when it were Publish'd. One day whilst she was complaining to the King of that Infidelity, she pretended he had committed against her, and strove to lure him back to her desires again. She show'd him how hood-winkt [Page] his passions were to dispise her that cherish'd him so tenderly, and to give his respect and cast away his love upon an ingrateful Woman who disregarded him, and from whom it was fruitless to expect any return of affection, because she had already made a gift of it to Gadate, who also loved her most passionately again.

This Intelligence was the Fire, and Stubble, and bellows which wholly inflamed the Rage and Jealousie that had so long been smoothering in the Passionate Kings bosome, and which his late visite to Chryseide had already begun to stir and awaken; he intreated Prinea to be the Minister, as having a principal interest, to ruine and take away that obstacle to her felicity. And he engag'd that provided she would give him more certainty of this intrigue, that he would acknowledge her affection by a just retaliation of his own, and the ressentment of the Injury he would cast upon that ingrateful Creature that had slighted him. Vectorez might have sought long enough in vain amongst all those Friends, in whom he most confided, before he could have met with a person more careful and exact to perform this Commission. She immediately learnt by one of Gadate's Servants whom she had bribed with money, the ordinary time when he every day secretly left his House, and she was informed by a Chamber-Maid belonging to Chryseide, her acquaintance of old, that just at that hour Gadate visited and waited on Chryseide in a private place, where they had the liberty of a free entertainment. This led her afterwards to [Page] the knowledge of the party, to whom they both confided the secrets which they wrote of their affection, and by whom they sent the paper Messages of their appointments, and as She narrowly watch'd his goings and comings betwixt these lovers by her many trusty spies: one day as she return'd from Chryseide, whither Gadate had dispatched him: She caus'd him to be ceazed on by some unknown persons, who having searched his pockets, took away a note, by which she intreated him to come to one of her Aunts, where she would be infallibly that evening to meet him.

Vectorez whose Jealousie had rendred him a mortal Enemy to Gadate, had no sooner knowledge of their Randez-vows, but he resolved to way-lay him himself, with some of his Confidents in a place, which he must necessarily pass, that by one blow he might rid himself of the object of Chryseide's love, and his own vengeance by depriving him of life. He went very early to the place appointed, in a disguise; and sent some unknown persons, who were very well acquainted with Gadates face, to spy, when he entred, and take notice of his habit and person: for fear least at his return they should fasten upon some other by mistake. These Scouts saw Chryseide go in and several other people, without perceiving Gadate, whom one of his kindred had carried thither in her Coach, dress'd in a womans habit; they were yet expecting his coming, when Vectorez excited by his impatient jealousie went to them; and understanding that they had not [Page] seen his Rival yet come by, he fixed his resolve to steal away Chryseide, or rather ravish her thence by force, if Gadate escap'd his hands. During these thoughts and deliberations, he staid till all the company came forth of that house; and perceiving he could not discover him, against whose life the Plot was framed, when Chryseide's Coach had advanc'd some distance from him, he presently made after and assaulted it. The Cries and Moans of those within the Coach, was all their defence, and though most times those feeble Succours are altogether ineffectual: yet now they were so powerful and successful as to preserve them, by alarming Gadate who was not very far of. That Lover presently flew with speed at his Ladies first doleful Summons, and prompted with the interest of that love, he had in her whom they would ravish from him, he fell upon one of those that seconded the Kings violence, and having wrung the Sword out of his hand, he ran directly to the throng that had attaqu'd them, who not expecting from one that appear'd to be a Woman, any other resistance but noise and clamours were unawares disordered and amazed at his furious blows.

There Love on either part exercis'd its rage and fury. The King who had the greatest interest in this action, did first oppose Gadate: but wanting the assistance of Justice in this quarrel, he began to give way to his rivals fury, whose vigerous arme he had already felt: when those that accompanied him, leaving Chryseide to save Vectorez, gave her opportunity to escape from [Page] them, and took away all means from Gadate to compleat his full revenge. Their number in fine, ore'whelm'd him, and after a brave resistance equal, both to his love and valour, whereby he had laid three at his feet, himself sunk down pierced with wounds amidst his Enemies, Vectorez was in so grand a confusion for this defeat, and so enfeebled by those wounds he had received, that not remembring or minding to discover who this was, he left him in the Street, commanding them to convey away his men, and was himself presently carried to his Palace, no less covered with blood then shame; and to hide it from all knowledge, he commanded his Physitians and Chyrurgeons, to give for a pretence that he was not seen abroad, that 'twas some other indisposition which afflicted him, and forbad those who had assisted him therein, ever to whisper the least word of it to any other. You may guess with what disquiet he passed the rest of the night, his anger gave him lesse repose then his wounds, and his jealousie quickly suggested to his thoughts, that the tutelary Demon which had robbed him of his Chryseide, must assuredly be Gadate: who the better to hide his amours, disguis'd himself under the feined shape of a Woman.

Whilst he was wracked with these suspicions Chryseide, who notwithstanding her danger and fright could not goe far from him, but thorow feare of his disaster had conceal'd her self at the corner of the street, to see the event of the [Page] combat returnd as soon as the noise was over to seek for him. The night was not so dark, but that at some short intervals the wind sweeping the clowds with some impetuosity left the face of Heaven so cleere and starry, that by their charitable light, this unhappy lover soon found what she sought, for with so much feare and grief, and which nevertheless she expected, as now appear'd too true. He lay stretch'd upon the pavement closs by a doore towards which he had trail'd himself, but the loss of his blood and strength stop'd him before he arriv'd there.

The cries which this woeful spectacle made her at first direct towards heaven, which she with melting eyes petition'd for justice against the cruell assassins, were loud enough to be heard in the loftiest star Chamber of the gods above, who reserv'd the vengeance, surely, to be performed by the hands of Cyrus. Her sobs interrupted those first clamours, & letting fall her lookes upon the object of her misery, after she had some moments fix'd them there, she softly bow'd her head upon him, calling him with an accent compounded of love and sorrow both together, Gadata, Gadate, said she, my dearest life: and raising her self up a little, pursued she or rather my dearer death, since thou repliest nothing, thou art no longer to be counted amongst the living; but if it be true that thou hast loved me, can thy faire soule be gone and leave mine here? and wherefore must I live since I have lost him who alone inspir'd me, where is thy soule fled, my Gadate, can it be that which makes me live still: here [Page]take it then again, said she Kissing his lips affectionately, I breath it back into thee with all my heart.

She felt a little breath remaining in him, which the faint motion of his heart attested, which made her stoop to marke with more attention, whether it were truly some small remainder of life yet in him, or the last knell of her expiring lover: but finding it continued still apparently, I heare thee, said she, my deare soule, thou answerest me: but is it to take thy last adieu, or to call me to follow thee? saying this, she softly laid her trembling hand upon his heart, and finding it beat and throb a little; let us not die my Dear Gadata, since I yet feel the motions of our soule within thy bosome: live for my sake, unless you'l have me straightway die for yours. And having said this, she perceiv'd her hand was bathed in blood: wherewith being again afrighted, she sought for that wound whence so much blood did issue.

But oh strange! she seem'd to shew, more trouble for this same wound, then she had done whilst she beleeved him dead, and tearing the linnen she had on her head, she made a shift to stop the blood from flowing, whilst with her teares that wash'd and bath'd his face, she strove to call him from his swoun'd to life again: but finding her indeavours all in vain, she sent her careful looks abroad to find some other assistance: when instantly a man presenting himself, told her, that being moved with her doleful cries, he came to lend her all the service he was able, and asking the cause of that funestuous accident? she briefly related the truth of that sad [Page] story, and then beseeched him, by all that was most deare to him on earth, to help her carry her deare Gadate instantly to some neer place, who without speedy remedy would breath his last. The man whom she believed heaven it self had sent to her assistance professing solemnly he shared in her griefes, stoop'd down as 'twere to helpe her take him up, when suddenly the barbarous vilain, instead of performing that charitable office, unsheath'd a dagger and indeavour'd to plunge it into Gadates heart.

The unhappy blow was so much the more cruel to Chryseide, because it deluded the hopes she had joyfully conceived of his timely assistance: yet she immediately flew at him, and being transported with a kind of fury, cryed aloud, Traitor, thou hast mistaken, if thou wouldst murther Gadate, strike my brest for here his soule is housed, and he does live in me; but thou hast now kill'd only me infernall Monster, in his person. Love had lent so much strength to Chryseide, and this just reproach struck so much terror into that base butchers heart, that he had force enough to stay him, though he mainly struggled to scape out of her hands, till those that had bafore fled from the danger, sent some armed men thither to rescue her, who finding her striving with this assassin, soon ended that unequal combat, by killing her Enemy. His death contributed very much to Gadates life; Chryseide was no sooner delivered from that Traitor, but she hastily ran to him, and perceiving that he lived yet, and that the last wound he received was not so dangerous as her feares had [Page] made her doubt, finding her self too weake, to carry that deare burden alone, which nevertheless she eagerly coveted to doe: she admitted of their assistance that were present to beare him thence: till the coach she had sent for, met them; in which they laid him, reposing his head upon her panting brest. Whilst they were thus going, as if Gadate had been in a condition to answer her: she entertain'd him, with what her love, sometimes trembling for feare, and othertimes flattering with hope, did suggest to her thoughts; and being at last arriv'd at his own dwelling, she would not leave him till the Chirurgians had given her a confident assurance of his recovery, and that himself having happily recover'd his spirits and knowledge again, earnestly conjured her to goe and repose her self.

In the interim, the King full of impatience that he saw no return of the party he had sent to dispatch the poor Gadate if he were yet alive, secretly commanded another to goe and make a discovery what had pass'd, who brought him word how he found him dead on the pavement. What ever plaints and moanes the smart of his wounds tore from his mouth & brest, his jealousy and passion troubled him more when he understood that he whose valour had carried the prize of Chryseide from his weaker arme, and whom he guess'd assuredly to be Gadate, had yet escap'd. what Demon, cry'd he; for there can be no men so bold and temerary, hath fetch'd away my Enemy, and traversing my intentions, hath slain my faithful Ministers? Gods, doe you create [Page] Kings to make them so unhappy, and doe you grant them so much power, to have so little use, and command of it, when they have need to imploy it. Take back the Crown which you have placed on my head, I will not hold the Scepter: if that be the bar which separates me from Chryseides love, the advantage of swaying it; bringing the more confusion, by the shame for not being puissant enough to subdue the spirit of a woman, to the same compliance which she yeilds to one that's but my subject. How unjust you are, all the power you give me, is it but only to commit murthers and assassinations? and the absolute dominion I have over the lives of men, might it not better have been limited only, to reach the wills of those that are my vassals? Or had you but seconded that violence I undertook by the authority I hold from heaven, which is to have no other law but my own will; I should acquiesce in your decrees: but to deride and better scoff at me, or rather in truth, to bring contempt and scorne upon your selves, since I am your own Image here beneath, you bring a woman in the lists whom I cannot overcome, and if you send a man in for her second, he too must be disguis'd under the habit of that timerous sex. But no, I wrongfully complain of you; the irregularity of my passion does abuse me; let us make open triall of that Soveraignty is given us, that, that alone can be effectual: since soothings and deceits have proved vain; let Chryseide be instantly sent for, and what resistance soere she make, let her be brought whether she [Page] condiscend or not. Some of those that were present in his Chamber, were already putting themselves in a posture to obey him, whom he again stop'd by these words: Stay, said he, I doe not think on what I undertake: if there were only Chryseide with Gadate to resist me, my passion might be quickly satisfied: but I have love to conquer; nor have I any cause at all of shame, if the highest gods having bowed to his yoake, I also yeild to his inevitable doome. However let's try to traverse his intents in all that can be possible, and have no more respect to that divinity at all that uses so much cruelty.

His Physitians and Chyrurgians perceiving him much heated with these bosome contests, beseeched him to calme his thoughts a little, least it should cause some inflammation in his wounds, which otherwise were out of the reach of death and danger. He could hardly contain himself: but reflecting afterwards upon the design he had propos'd to hide his passion, he quarrel'd with his own rash tongue, for having proclaim'd so much, and strictly enjoyned those that overheard-him, never to impart those secrets.

They all observed this command so religiously, that none could imagine for what reason Ʋectorez would not be seene, nor suspect him to have consorted in the rape of Chryseide, and the foule attempt against Gadates life. What ever informations they could make were lost labours; and it would be lock'd up in silent secresy still, if she who it rather seem'd had most cause to cover it since she had managed all the bloody tragedy, had not reveal'd it first. Prinea having heard no [Page] news from the King, who had through neglect wholly forgotten her, but only as an instrument that had caus'd his shame and unhappiness, and having certain intelligence that Ʋectorez had a full intent to have stollen away Chryseide, was even pin'd to death with grief when she remembred that her self had procured that happy occasion, as she judg'd it, for her rival; and beginning to shake off the fond opinion of the Kings affection to her, she thought it would be the more compleat revenge for his disdain, and falsehood, by rendring him the more hateful to her whose love he hunted for through so much trouble and danger. And that to this purpose it would be best to let Chryseide and Gadate be acquainted that 'twas Ʋectorez who had attempted the rape of the one, and murther of the other; and at the first visite she made her cousin, she revealed the whole secret to her.

Though Chryseide were struck with amazement, yet she was easily induced to beleeve it, because she was no stranger to the Kings violence and passion; and knowing it was now too late to conceale her affection to Gadate, and his reciprocally to her again, she gave him immediate notice thereof. Gadate who was extremely generous, could hardly beleeve the design of so black a deed could be hatch'd in the mind of such a man, who was borne a Prince, and to whom the gods had given so much Authority, only that he might doe justice to his subjects. The notice however they had taken of the villain that was last kill'd, who was well known to be one of the Kings Officers, [Page] before they had carried him thence, was a strong argument of this truth, besides many other particularities which she told him, to which he had not till then lent any observation, or beleefe.

Ʋectorez notwithstanding to take away all suspition, and wipe out all those impressions that Chryseide might stamp in his mind, sent to visit him, and let him know, that if he had not been constrain'd to confine himself to his Chamber, by reason of a slight indisposition, which hindred him from going abroad, he would have come in person to witness his sorrow for that accident, intreating him only to be careful of his recovery, whilst himself would take care to seek out his Enemies, to make an exemplary Justice by which it should appear that they had mortally offended him in his person.

To combat these malitious impostures, Chryseide was forc'd to discover the secret of the Kings passion, towards her, to Gadate in that excess which he as yet had not imagin'd, and the testimony and Seals his letter contain'd which she imparted to him, and what Prinea had related as a farther proof in this point.

The certain knowledge of such a puissant rival began to disquiet his soul, and would have wholly discompos'd his mind, if that faire Creature who soon read it by the alterations in his face, had not quickly dispel'd the tempest which his jealousy was gathering, by these Words; Feare not Gadate, you have no cause to feare, I know what the sadness of your lookes express, but let not the highest proofes of his love I have revealed, raise any [Page]doubts. If this puissant rival whom you dread, have found no greater obstacle to his love then the dispositions I had towards you, when by his respects and adorations he endeavour'd to alure my soule to himself: What can you apprehend now since he has affronted and wronged me so basely, and that the inclination I had for your deare self is converted into love: but what love Gadate, alas shall I dare name it, you know it enough already, and the last evidence I have given you cannot but place your beleef above all doubts, if there were roome for any. What greater proofes can you demand, Speake Gadate, must I die to gain your full beleefe: Ah, what was there wanting, tell me prethee, did I not seek for death, when I durst cope with him that came to quench that small remaining sparke of life in the streames of your own blood.

I know indeed, reply'd Gadate, that I have nothing to feare, since you forbid it, But, Madam, I have neither Crown, nor Scepter to reward your affection, nor with my person can you espouse any thing, but the hatred of a King, who now can make you a worthy Queen. The regret that you should loose those advantages in consideration of me, and that I am not able to recompence that loss, but by the Grandeur of an affection, which truly has no paralel (but which nevertheless can procure you nothing else suitable to it) is that which casts me into so much trouble. That Chryseide should refuse Uectorez, to embrace Gadate, put by a King, to entertain a Subject; is a Prodigy of grace and goodness which should surpass, the hopes of ambition it self, notwithstanding my Deare Chryseide, these are not only things which I may fondly hope for; but such as your assurance[Page]crownes me with▪ Most rare effect of love, but yet produced by a cause more rare: Adorable Chryseide, at least permit me as an earnest of my affection, to avenge the base attempt of that ignoble King, you have less reason to endure the affront he would have acted, then to refuse the Crown he prostrates at your feet by this meanes you shall no longer have that loathsome object of your batred in your Eye, nor I have further cause of any apprehension. Chryseide would not suffer him to goe on, but absoluttly forbad him to express any ressentment towards the King, who seem'd to repent his crime, since he confess'd his shame by hiding it. They afterwards vow'd an eternal love, to which they call'd the gods for witness, and resolv'd to secure their felicity at soonest by a speedy marriage.

At the same time that they propounded to roote and establish their content, Ʋectorez studied to undermine it. As soon as he was cured of his wounds, he went to visit Gadate, and repeated over to him personally what he had formerly sent him word off. The Kings sanity troubled these lovers happiness, Chryseide seldome saw Gadate; and the feare least Ʋectorez should renew his love together with his inseparable jealousy, made her not visit him, but with much caution and secrecy, till he was able to goe abroad, and visit her himself, without openly declaring himself her lover.

Ʋectorez being faithfuly advertis'd of these enterviews, became so jealous, that not able to suffer another to enjoy that fulness of happy repose, which he could by no meanes taste, he resolved to separate these two lovers, before they [Page] could have the blessed opportunity to tye themselves closer by the indissoluble and holy knot of marriage which he apprehended above all things, and which he nevertheless foresaw would be inevitable, unless he hastily cast in some impediment to obstruct it. As he was forecasting this ugly design, a fit occasion presented it self to him to put in execution; the inhabitants of a remote Province did insolently raise a mutiny; and it being necessary to elect some person of eminency and Authority, as well as of ability and courage, to quell these seditious spirits and range, them to their just Devoir, his jealousy easily suggested him instantly to impose this Commission on Gadate, thereby to snatch him away and part him from Chryseide. He propounded it to his Councel, who soon approved his choice, as the fittest person of his Court; and not considering the particular interests that lead him to it, immediately dispatched all the orders requir'd towards this expedition.

This business did indeed call for a diligent disposing of affairs: but yet the jealous impatiency that nettled Ʋectorez made him precipitate that departure the more suddenly; so that his rival had scarcely time, to set his own domestick business in order, because the King feigned to have received fresh intelligence, that without a very quick remedy, that fire of rebellion which kindled more and more, might perhaps suddenly enflame his neighbouring Provinces.

Gadate plainly perceived what posted him from Babylon, and that his deare, Deare Chryseide who [Page] made him part with so much trouble and unwillingness, was the sole cause; yet he was forc'd to yeild to Soveraign command, and obey the Kings absolute power without delay, least he should utterly ruine his hopes and future fortunes.

The evening before his departure, he waited on his Chryseide: where though these two faithful friends had very much to say to each other, yet were they so overwhelm'd with grief, that for a long time, they could demand no other expressions but mournful sighes and teares: but when they perceiv'd the fatal moment of their separation approached, Gadate in fine broke silence with these words. We must part, fair Chryseide; 'tis heavens decree, as well as the Kings will: but what must we expect in so long and tedious an absence, if we find so much trouble only to say adieu? A love reply'd Chryseide, which shall never untye the union of our souls, whatever fortune plot or contrive against us; love me still Gadate, but as I shall, and doe, love you; and we shall thus triumph over all opposition, and make them know, our constancy and promis'd Faith, is firmer rooted and founded, then their obstinate and unhandsome malice.

That I should love you for ever reparted Gadate, is to command me a thing from which I cannot possibly decline, since no object can ever possibly be so lovely as Chryseide, as nothing can be so pleasing and charming as the sweet, and, too sorrowful remembrance of your presence. Gods, who know future events, and can read all our actions, 'ere we conceive them, or write them in our intentions, strike me with[Page]thunder immediately, rather then suffer me to be false to her: but no you shall never chastise me for that crime, what power soere you have over us, for since you cannot shape a beauty more glorious, nor furnish a soul with more perfection, she shall be eternally the only object of my affection and veneration. Yet I must leave you dearest Chryseide; to please the jealous humour of a rival who teares me from you, rather then for that interest of State which is pretended, I must be my own Enemy by this self banishment, to humour him, and under the pretence of serving my King and Country abandon you, to the danger of a Tyrant. But let it be so, I must away, and I leave all to your undaunted constancy; which I dare rely upon, though I foresee what tryals there will be to undermine and shake it; and remember, best of Ladies, that having promis'd me your intire love, if you now faulter in your faithful resolve, you stain your own white soul, and spot that innocency that yet is cleerer then the unsoiled Lilly. But you will never sin so highly against your own celebrated vertue; is it not true Madam? the very thoughts I have dress'd in these words, a [...]e th [...]refore criminal; and I goe from you with th [...] consolation, and assurance, that whatsoever distance parts our bodies, yet our souls will ever dwell together, and you continue mine, as inseparably, and as long as I am yours; that to say to all Eternity, reply'd she, and more, said Gadate, if it were possible.

A deep and violent sigh on either side, ended this sad discourse; and they had no more power of speech left after it, but only to give a Melancholly farewel at the last. Gadate at parting left her his picture, and in a noble Exchange was [Page] inrich'd with hers. If the trouble, and displeasure of this cruel separation, disturbed them of that repose, which sleep might otherwise have afforded them: the joy that flowd in Ʋectorez mind, did the same to him. The pleasing thought of having procur'd their parting kept him still waking; and the impatience of seeing him, though night were almost neere its end, so wrack'd him, that he accused the Sun of sloth and laziness, for not driving away the clowds of darkness sooner and appearing in that Horizon, to usher in the long'd for morning, that should absent his rival.

Hardly was the night dismist, but he sent Gadate word he must consult with him; not that he had any new business; but only he thereby meant to rob him of the opportunity of being with Chryseide; and when he was come, he entertained him with a thousand dissembled caresses and civilities: even till the houre of his departure, and then would see him mounted and conducted out of the Palace Gates, after which he immediately desired an Assembly of all the Court Ladies, where Chryseide could not but appear.

What disorder and torments, good heaven, did she not suffer, when she beheld him neer, that had absented her choicest friend so far from her? however she dissembled the best she could, not to irritate him, from whom she had already receiv'd such testimony of anger and Tyranny, and of whom she feared worse: But to shun his importunities for the time to come, she resolv'd to [Page] banish her self from the City, and intreated one of her kindred to pitty her misfortunes, and by carrying her into a remote dwelling, where her husband was in the Country to free her from one part of those troubles that fit so heavy on her spirit. Ʋectorez, who was informed of her intent immediately summon'd that ladies husband to the Court; and having taken away the pretence of Chryseides journey, detained her in Babylon; and to engage her the more to that abode, he bestowd an office at Court on the Unckle she sojourned with, which tyed and confined her consequently within his own walls. But finding his most sedulous endeavours could gain him no advantage upon her inflexible Spirit, and that whatever art he used to conquer her, she countermined and made shift to defeate his expectations, he was fired with rage and anger; and having found out that these two lovers kept a diligent correspondency by paper Embassies, he bethought himself of a Stratagem, to breed a disaffection in their hearts, by the same meanes that they made use of to confirm and cherish the affection they had so solemnly vow'd each other. To this effect he sought to corrupt the fidelity of of a woman to whom Chryseide and Gadate confided the sweet commerce of their amours; and having gained her by the brightness of that glorious mettle, which corrupts the integrity of most people, she deliver'd up those letters which they interchangeably sent to one another, in whose innocent lines, he quickly read the resolution which Chryseide had taken to fly to my Master, for [Page] Sanctuary, against his Persecutions, and injoy that rest in his bosome, she did in vain expect from the others restless importunity. He caused Gadates hand to be exactly counterfeited in a Letter, wherein he intreated her not to spur on her designe with so much hast, and this he closed up with a Seal of theirs, left in their unworthy She-Secretari's hands, to make this false Coyn pass the better by that currant stamp. It need not beget your wonder, that Chryseide did not discover this forgery, Lovers read over their welcome Letters with too much hast and passionate interest to examine so nicely; She, in fine, returned him Answer, that She waited for his appointment with an impatience, great as her Love.

And to delude Gadate, as they had Chryseide: he caused her writing to be perfectly well imitated, and informing him, that being necessarily detain'd at Court for somewhat, that much concern'd their happiness: she beseeched him to let her defer her Journey yet a while, that so she might contrive to do it afterwards with the more safety, and less trouble. Thus was the fair intentions of these two lovers betray'd and frustrated, with as much malice as dexterity; and though Vectorez had more of anger and rage, then love in the passion he cherish'd for Chryseide, yet could he not endure she should have the least inclination for any else. And to make the most advantage every way of their absence, he gained such of eithers Friends, as they most confidently relied upon, whom having once seduced, he caused a report to be blown about, that he was [Page] going to have Chryseide match'd to one of his Kindred; and at the same time, in retribution of my Masters eminent Services, that he would bestow upon him the Daughter of a Prince, who resided in that Province, which his late approved Valour and Prudence had happily ranged and setled in the obedience they justly owed their King.

These persecuted Lovers were first advertiz'd of the odd report that had been raised; and soon after their false Friends confirmed this falser same, by their infamous Messages, and withall added, that the short and feeble resistance that either had made to the first assault and proposition of renouncing their first Love, to let in a new guest, which should be confirmed by sudden Marriage, proved evidently that they had given a full assent. This News being convey'd to both, by such as they highly respected, and heartily believed, made up the fulness of that trouble, which their long absence had but begun; and as the hopes of either was anchor'd, only upon their mutually sworn Faith and Stability, so the newborn jealousie this treachery had brought forth, cast them almost into dispair.

What, — whispred the mournful Chryseide, — Is it possible that Gadate should prove unfaithful; that Gadate whom a few dayes since my Love, rescued from that death which his Rival was dragging him to. Gods, if you be just, why do you not show it on this Traytor; where is your Thunder? or for whom do you keep it that can so highly deserve it? since your selves are witnesse of the faith he vowed to me: But no, stop yet [Page]a while your avenging hands; suspend the effects of your Justice, perhaps it is not true that he betrayes me, and I may wish your Judgements should fall on him, who keeps as much Love for me still as I can have desires. Rather strike him that is the Author of my doubts, and suspition: Has not that Tyrant yet exasperated your anger long enough to make you dart your Punishments at him? Or may he, because a King, escape unpunished by Heaven, for those black and deep crimes he commits upon Earth? 'Tis he, Ʋnworthy he, that certainly still persecutes our harmless Souls, he without peradventure tempts my Gadates faith, with the same specious proposition of an advantagious Marriage, as he does mine: But it's no matter, for if that Noble Object of my affection be but truly mine, as he so willingly and solemnly engag'd, so long as I continue inviolably his, he still loves his spotless Chryseide, since constant Chryseide adores Gadate, nor will his Courage and discretion loose that Victory, which she dare promise shall stil triumph over the cursed Vectorez's malice and darkest Plots.

About the same time, that this Unfortunate Lady was bemoaning her hard fate, Gadate being assaulted with no less inquietudes, because he had no less tenderness and respect for her, express'd his bitter sorrows thus. Whether the beautious Chryseide continue me her sincere Love, or not, Said he, (sighing with a profound sadness) Her Infidelity would not excuse my breach of promise; and if it be a Truth they write me, yet that Fair-false-one, deceiving me, deceives her self far more, it being less evil to be unfortunate then Criminal. But I must love her still, my heart, said he, (knocking his hand on his [Page]brest) though she prove inconstant: for the Testimonies she gave me of that excellent affection, which she however protested to Eternize, proceeding from so divine a person, are a sufficient Obligation for me not to cease to Love her, till I cease to Live; and though she be faithless, yet is she the happiest coppy of Angelick beauty to my eye that Mortality is capable of: and besides, why should not I consecrate that poor life to her daily service, though slighted, which she alone, with hazzard of her own, did rescue from a violent sudden end? But a [...], is it possible Chryseide, that the sole inclination you once had for me, should [...]ake you undervalue Crowns and Scepters; and that the violence of the passion which you were pleased to make me believe should live within the Grave it self, should not now have he strength to resist the cold and single proposition of a husband, whom I dare without pride compare with in all respects; and Challenge as inferiour in point and degree of affection?

After they had thus on either part entertain'd their sad thoughts, they dispatched Messages to each other in these, or the like termes.

Chryseide to Gadate.

I have been inform'd that you were profer'd a Wife where you now reside; and which is more, if I would readily give credit to all that is reported, I must believe that you are willing to accept her: But I have not this easie Faith; and till you signifie your Levity, and Infidelity with your own hand, I shall persevere in the more pleasing opinion that you are still intirely mine, as I am unchangeably yours: Remember, I beseech you Gadate, before what sacred Witness, and with what [Page] repeated Oathes you swore Love to me: But perhaps it was to cover your Crime, that you stopt my Journey to you: My presence would ever have reproached you of a disloyalty unworthy of Affection; and that happy Creature whom you design to espouse, would, no doubt have had more generosity then to bestow her heart upon a deceiver, from whom she could hope for no other then the like treachery, that you commit towards her, whom you are engaged to love with as much Constancy, as you have Honour, Reason or Religion in you.

Chryseide.

Gadate to his Chryseide.

It was needless to give me so many Testimonies of Affection, if you intend to abuse me: the charmes of beauty and wit, would have had dominion enough over the Liberty of my Soul, without the prodigal addition of so many flattering vows and promises, to confirm a Love which your change condemns of perjury, if it be true, that you will marry him, to whom you have already given the earnest of your Troth: But — Chryseide, will not your Infidelity become a greater prejudice to your own Soul and Honour, then the performance of your Oathes? And shall I know so much unhappiness as to be ascertain'd that your heart did not prompt your tongue, and lips when you pronounc'd those assurances of an Eternal Amity and Love? Yes Lady, I must believe it, and undergo the penalty of shame for having so long worship'd and ador'd an inconstant, cruel Woman; and complain only that you defeat and betray the hopes you made my Credulous heart conceive of your sincerity, who then behold her as the object of his highest felicity and [Page] bliss, who now is become the only cause of his trouble and misfortune. But I forfeit the respect I ow you by these murmurings, it were not true Love for you, if I should hinder you of those satisfactions; take whom you will then, Chryseide into your Lawful bed, if you can thereby please your self, and espouse true happiness in his person: these are such wishes as you cannot forbid or chide me for, and my true Love at least, inspite of your severity and my sad fate, shall derive this consolation to rejoyce that you are blest, though that be the subject of my dispair, which rises from the same source, and if I importune you in continuing my more then common respect, I shall thereby reap this advantage that my more then Feminine perseverance will be some small revenge, for the unfaithfulness wherewith you treat Your most Faithful

Gadate.

Vectorez caused these Letters likewise to be intercepted that so these Lovers might still wander in darkness and errour, and that their dispair might be increased by the want of true intelligence. Gadate in fine, absolutely perswaded of the infidelity of his Mistris, dispatched me with a Letter equally composed of love and anger, wherein he desired she would restore his picture, without the least mention of any reason that urg'd him to it. Chryseide who had missed the former complaints which my Master had address'd to her; believed infallably that he was false, and that because he desired not to leave any tokens of his engagement to her in her possession, he now sent for this. She first tore his Letter in my presence, [Page] and afterwards told me, with all the reproaches her violent passion could suggest, that I should return to my Master, and assure him, that she would not send back his Picture, but keeping it ever in her eye, that unworthy person it represented as he had once been the true Object of her Love, should now be the Subject of her hate.

But as I was acquainted with the fidelity of my Master, I could not suffer the unjust reproaches she flung at him, which he as verily believ'd might have been stuck on her, wherefore I calmly and with a becoming respect let her know, that this offence was indeed too sensible and grosly misapply'd, to lay that inconstancy to his charge, of which she was only guilty, since she might plainly read the verity of his affection, in that he had not sent for that Coppy, but only to take away the ressemblance of one, whom he rationally believed could not be pleasing to her that ceased to cherish the Original.

These last words stung Chryseide to the Soul, and inflamed her with anger, in which heat and transport, having hastily related all she had heard of Gadate, she unfolded that Letter to me, which Vectorez had counterfeited, wherein he intreated her to defer her Journey to the place he was at, because, Said She, My troublesome company might not disturb his fresh Amours, and Courtship. To undeceive her of this prejudicate opinion; I reply'd that he thought he had the same ground to complain of her, and that he had honour'd me with the s [...]ght and perusal of the Letter she had sent him, to[Page]excuse the retarding of her Journey. Chryseide scarce gave me leasure to end those words, before She chang'd her Countenance and harsh Language, into this sweet tone of, — Pardon me, Sir, Said She, If I do tell you, that it's not true I ever wrote to Gadate what you affirm: on the contrary, I burned with desire and impatience to know the reasons why he would stop me. And I can assure you in his behalf, return'd I, that he was no less amazed, and at a non-plus, when he read what you wrote. Then I repeated at length all what my Master had learn'd touching her promise of Marriage, and how he having sent her a Message, to which her silence was the only answer, he began to credit what report had proclaim'd, and what he for a long while before had only let into his ear, which he after silence could not but suffer to enter into his heart as a real Truth.

What Demon, cry'd She, does thus betray our intents? the trouble and dissatisfaction for not procuring his Answer to me, about the same Melancholly inquiry, first brought upon me this fit of misbelief, which I perceive is his chief Malady and distemper too, proceeding from the same Cause. Ha! Would he had contracted no more guilt then I in this particular, and you, happy Messenger, if I dare believe what you affirm, how truly blessed am I; What then, it seems Gadate is faithfull still, and yet he could suppose that I had falsified my vowes to him; Let some body fly to him, if you cannot Post thither your self, to ease and inform his Noble mind, least he become more sinful, by longer thinking I am so.

At the same moment she wrote to him of all [Page] this, and I hurried a faithful bearer away with those refreshing tydings, whilst we were guessing afterwards who could be the persons that had so ignobly, and subtily ruffled the quiet and till then, sweet commerce of these Lovers: to find this out the more facilely, Chryseide sent for that woman, I already mention'd, by whose management they convey'd all their secrets, who was not a little surprized at my appearance, because she was of my acquaintance. Chryseide, having required an account of the letters they had written to each other, but had not been delivered, and of those that had been counterfeited in their stead, this unhappy woman had no less impudence to excuse the fact, then she had malice in the acting it, and maintain'd boldly, that her change being only to send the papers, she had punctually delivered all those that came to her hands, but could not give any account of what they did contain.

We could not, in fine, get any thing else from her, and the diligent care we took to gain some exact knowledge of this cover'd Mistery, pull'd down the last and heaviest mischief on these Lovers heads, and made way for the Enemies of their happiness to compleat the design of their absolute ruine. This wicked instrument was no sooner freed from Examination, but she went directly and inform'd the King, that it was time to put in practice, what he had contrived, to divert and destroy the inclination of these Lovers: because there was a Gentleman sent from Gadate, who could easily wipe out those apprehensions [Page] and impressions which his feigned Letters might have left upon her Spirit.

The words of this Malicious woman, who feared to be discovered, soon blow'd his rage and jealousie into a storm, which at first made him think to send away immediately to have my Master murthered, but one of his Confidents, less passionate then himself, to whom he had opened his fowl design, having wisely pointed out the difficulty, and danger of enterprizing on the life of so considerable a person, who was so well arm'd against all assaults with the Forces he then commanded, moderated somewhat of that first fury, and resolv'd to watch and spy me circumspectly, and learn what time he meant to begin his Journey, that so they might ceaze on my Master. And likewise he confirmed the old woman in her unworthy imployment, by new presents, whilst himself contriv'd to press forward the pretended Match between Gadate and the before mentioned Princess, and Chryseide with his own Kinsman.

To this intent he wrote to my Master, and to the Princesses Father to let them know his purpose was they should marry before he returned to Court, he sent likewise to Chryseides Friends at the same time; all she could do, when they brought her the Kings errand, was to implore some time to consult about it, and to dispatch me suddenly to my Master: but I was staid in my passages, and my Letters ceazed upon, which d [...]scovered to Vectorez, how Chryseide desired Gadate to come in secret to one of her Ants houses, [Page] she being a woman that favoured their design; where she promised to meet in a short time, thereby a happy conclusion of their Nuptials to prevent, that cross match the King so laboured to compleat.

The diligent King, had already presented the person to Chryseide that was appointed to be her husband, and as well to fathom her thoughts, as to obstruct Gadates intervening, he told her, Gadate was likewise preparing for his espousals, to which she having reply'd, that she that should possesse so Illustrious and Noble a Husband, would be happy above the ordinary rate of Soveraigns, he conceiv'd so strange a jealousie upon the value she set on his merit and affection, that not able to quel the impetuous humour, he absolutely resolv'd to reduce him to the condition of incapacity to be her husband. To accomplish this, he set People in every place where Chryseide or Gadate could possibly pass, who continually watched to prevent their intended rendezvous, with express order to arrest both or either of them. Gadate fell the first into their snare as being the most forward and eager; and by a most inhumane violence (the particulars whereof, I shall step over, as not so decent to be related) two hours before his Ladies Arrival, they deprived him of the meanes of ever after being an able husband.

Chryseide knew as yet nothing, when she came into the Chamber, where he was shut up; but having understood the bruitish effects of the Kings jealousie, she resolv'd to make it appear that she [Page] had a virtue above his rage, and protested openly, that since Gadates merits had been the onely subject of her affection, the Kings inhumanity which could not lessen or ruine that, should not hinder her from marrying him; Nay they did compleat the Wedding instantly after, and she ever lived his Constant Wife and Associate: till Vectorez who incessantly persecuted her with his unruly passion, having been informed one day that Gadate was absent, forcibly entred into the House, and having threatned to violate her, if She were not flexible to his rude desires: finding her self in this straight, that her Honour was inevitably ruin'd, unless She did Redeem it, at the price and forfeit of her precious Life, She with a Generous and Undaunted Resolution caught up a Dagger that lay near, and with a stab buried it in her Noble Brest, Sacrificing thus the fairest Life, to save the most exemplary chastity, that age could boast of.

This fatal blow which extinguished Ʋectorez burning lust, with the sprinklings of her more temperate blood, augmented the unhappy Gadate's misfortunes: yet had he the discretion to bear up against this swelling torrent of Affliction; and though he testified the highest regret, was due to one so much deserving, and so dear to him, yet did his courage surmount and moderate the first rapid motions of his dolours, because he then found himself not in a fitting posture to make his ressentments Publick. He withdrew himself nevertheless from the Court, and amidst the throngs of his displeasure, he knew [Page] so well how to cloak his designe of revenge under the habit of dissimulation, that Ʋectorez was apt to believe, time had effaced the memory of those injuries he had acted, and that he might as well confide in his person as his valour, to trust him with those imployments he gave him in his Army, endeavouring to renew his Friendship by the dignity of those commands he heaped on him: But as the affronts and injuries Gadate had receiv'd, were too recent and sensible to be put in oblivion, he soon took advantage of the occasion Gobrias offer'd, in the assurance he had to meet in your excellent person, that Prince whom it seemes the Heavens have sent to protect injured goodness, and deliver the Assyrians from the Tyrant that so sharply oppresses them.

Sambaulas, having thus closed up his story, Cyrus rescented the motions of a particular indignation against Ʋectorez, and protested openly that thence forward the interest of his Glory should not animate him more against that degenerate King, then the desire of taking a just revenge, for such a Friend. He also renew'd the assurances he had already given to Gobrias, he being then present, and sought out Gadate to confirm him in what he expected, and hoped for from his protection, who to make the Assyrians know to their sorrow, what a lose he should prove to them, and advantage to Cyrus, he would needs put all those places of strength into his hands, whereof he was Master at that time: but because he conjectured, that as soon as Ʋectorez had the least intimation of his deserting that party, he would [Page] immediately send some Troopers to plunder and destroy his Country, he meant to prevent him, and propounded to Cyrus to permit him to go with a party of Cavalry, to oppose the Enemies passage, and secure his Subjects, whom his presence would hold up in a posture of Loyalty towards him. Yet was it not without some reluctancy that Cyrus did suffer him to go, only attended by his own Forces: but considering that a numerous party as that of the Medes and Persians, laden with much provisions, could not arrive there soon enough, he let him set out first with speed and diligence, whilst himself disposed his forces to march after him.

The Souldiers had already conceiv'd so high an esteem of Gadates merits, that they likewise gave testimonies of their impatience to assist him. Cyrus perceiving them in this heat of willingness, gave hasty order for the Armies March, and having recommended the Lady's and Provisions to Gobrias care in whose protection and charge he left them with a sufficient Guard, he offer'd the customary Sacrifices on such occasion, and disposed his Troopes in this following order.

Chrysante had the Command of the Van-Guard, and that all the party, might follow conveniently, he placed the Curiassiers, which were arm'd heaviest there, at the head of whom he Commanded the Centureons to March. Artabaze had Command over the Persians that bare Bows and Bucklers; Adramias was ordered to follow with the Median Infantry; and Embas with the Armenian. After these came Artuchas who conducted [Page] the Hircanians; Thambrades the Sacques on foot, and Damates the Cadusians, which two Nations had lately deserted the Assyrians.

All those that carried Bucklers, had the right wing, and the Archers or Bow-men the left, with the Centurions at their head. Next these came on the Troopes that guarded the bagage and necessary provisions. In the Rear Guard, Madate led the Persian Cavalry (whom their Centurions had order to dispose as the Infantry) Jerosombate the Median: Tygranes the Armenian: and in the Train of all were, the Sacques and Cadusians.

This puissant Army being thus ranged, Cyrus bravely mounted upon a white Horse, who by his stately gate, seemed to be proud, of having him for Rider that Commanded so many Worthy's, rode all about to take a review, and after some Speech to them, he particularly required them to be silent, as being to March by night, in which there would be more need of their eyes then tongues, and set Scouts abroad, whom he often relieved: fearing too wearisom a duty might render them less vigilant. The Souldiers, mean while, had leave to rest themselves, till a March were sounded, but they had been so powerfully animated by their Generals presence, that they waited for that hour, with desire and huge impatiency. Cyrus having again survey'd the several Troopes, and called to them all, or the most part, by their particular names, he begot such high thoughts in them, of their own worth by such a fortunate mention and knowledge, that they heartily aspired to make him better [Page] acquainted by some rare proofes, of their deserts and valour: and nothing in effect can be a greater spur to worthy actions, then the ambition and policy to shew, before those that are Lovers of such Gallantry, the proofes of their expected prouesse, as their confusion and disgrace is greatest, that have such Heroick Spectators for their Witness, when they do things unhandsomly. Besides, that the Commands given in such a [...]ro [...] of Men, and more readily executed, when those that are appointed, are so particularly nominated by their Chief.

About the midle portion of the Night, when darkness covered the whole face of Heaven, Cyrus gave the word to March, and having provided experienc'd guides to attend on Chrysante, who led the Van, he caused them to go slowly forward, whilst he made the others advance after: and then having put them all in a posture to follow, they began to quicken their pace. At the break of day, seeing that the Cadusian Infantry, who were in the Rear, were not seconded with any Horse, he drew up some Squadrons to joyne with them, and be assistant in case the Enemy should attaque them, and sent out fresh Scouts to discover their Quarters. At the same time, that he was going to secure his Friend, the unworthy person that had formerly betray'd Gadate in his amours, and who had sent that false Intelligence to Chryseide, how he was forsaking her, was consulting how he might ruine him, and give him up into the hands and custody of the Assyrians. He was well acquainted with his Masters most [Page] Important Affairs, who had dispatched him before, to advertize his Friends, that he was hastning to their protection, with a potent Army: But this perfidious wretch, instead of performing that Commission, sent speedy notice to the Assyrians of Gadates design, and his approaching Forces; and gave strickt command to the Lievetenant of a well Fortified Castle in their passage, of which himself was Governour, to admit them, and give them fair entertainment, till he next morning could lead Gadate into that Ambush he had prepared for him, and wherein he, indeed, inevitably fell.

Gadate being arriv'd on his own spot; and not finding the face of any Enemy or Opposer, excepting a few Chariots, and some run-aways, whom his Forlorn-Hope still beat before them, undertook with the small handful of men he had, to pursue a flying party of Horse, who still fought retreating, till they had drawn him and his eager followers into the ambush they had prepared. He hoped to save himself by beating his way into the Castle, which this false fellow had surrendred to the Enemies, where he had indeed a willing entrance, but with the hazzard of his life, which had been there paid for it, had not the impetuous hast of the first Court of Guard who flew with fury at him, given him notice, that he was in the hands of Enemies, where he thought to find a sanctuary, and had not four or five that scorn'd so base a murther put themselves in a posture to defend him. By their assistance; Gadate had, indeed, sav'd himself without [Page] hurt, and escap'd from the Castle, had he not unfortunately in his retreat met with the cursed fellow that betray'd him, whom he approaching as a friend, from whom he expected that succour, he so much needed, instead of it, met with an unexpected wound from him in his shoulder, which the other would have directed to his heart, who suddenly wheeling from him, spurred towards those Assyrians that had left the Ambush to ceaze upon Gadate, who yet feared not to pursue them with that inconsiderable Remnant of Friends that were remaining: and had there certainly bravely sold his life, had not the Enemy been alarm'd with the approach of Cyrus and his whole Army, which made them soon change their ignoble assault upon Gadate, (who had already laid his false Friend dead at his feet) into a more needfull flight to save themselves. Their hast, however, could not carry them away so fortunately, but that some fell in the pursuite, and the rest were made Prisoners with a great part of the bagage they had deserted, taken.

Cyrus having caused the retreat to be sounded, to Rally his dispersed men, who returned to the Joyful Camp laden with Spoyle, was in some apprehension for Gadate, because he had not seen him: whom presently after he spied coming towards him; and whilst he was pleading excuse for not sooner arriving to assist him; Gadate was returning him millions of thanks for the succour that had preserved a Life, which he infallably had otherwise lost, amidst their numbers.

[Page]Whilst these illustrious warriours gave a breathing and refreshing intermission to their men, the Caducian Prince, who was in the reare-guard, having not arrived so timely as to be at the engagement, thought it somewhat imported his reputation to signalize the valour of his soldiers, by some generous enterprize, since he had no share in the fresh Victory they had obtain'd. To this effect, without communicating ought to Cyrus, he secretly drew off from his quarters by the favour of the night, and desperately made his approaches neer the, City where the Assyrians had locked themselves up: before which place, he remained sometime urging them to a combat by his bitter threats; but none appeared to answer him, the Enemy being so fear'd with their last defeate, they durst not issue out, till being certainly made acquainted, that the Cadusians were there alone, they made a vigorous sally, and after a hot fight, which hung a long while doubtfully between them, the Caducians having, in fine, lost their Prince, were distress'd to a retreat.

The troopes which Cyrus sent to relieve them, met them at their returne towards the Camp, whilst every countenance display'd the sorrows which fill'd their hearts for their lost Prince, but the judicious Cyrus, to divert the shame of their defeit, receiv'd them with as honorable caresses, as if they had return'd victorious and triumphant, and consoling them for their dead General, attributed all to the fortune and giddy chance of warr, which had so unsuccessfully [Page] seconded their attempt: and afterwards commanded his Chyrurgions to have a very great care of such as were wounded: there was not one considerable person but he did personally visit, and promised them all, that in revenge, he would not give the Assyrians any long leasures to brag of their advantage. In effect, he went with a strong party to fetch off the slain, in sight of the conquering Enemy within the town: to whom he propounded an equal combat, to redeem the honour of his associates, of whom he had no little jealousy and especially, these now mentioned, because he had acquir'd them but of late: but finding that not any appear'd to answer his summons, he caused the whole Country to be spoiled and pillaged, and commanded to cut off all the stragling Enemies they should meet, as a sacrifice for his compagnions Ghost.

The Assyrians on the other hand, retyr'd toward Babylon, and left him the campagne free: of which when he perceiv'd himself the absolute Master, he consider'd, that to oblige the Enemy, and preserve those Provinces that had so freely tendred themselves to him, he should doe well to call back those Free-booters he had let loose; thereby to give no just occasion to the Assyrians, to act the like upon his conquer'd neighbourhoods, when he should be at too great a distance from them, to save them from plunder. To this end having summoned in his men, whilst they replenish'd all his garrisons with necessary provisions, he dispatched a Trumpetter towards [Page] Babylon, to propound to Ʋectorez, that if he loved or regarded the welfare of his people, he was contented not to hinder the labourers from freely cultivating the grounds under his power; till the harvest time, and then the longest sword should reap it, provided that he would engage to give the same allowance of liberty in those Provinces, which the right of Conquests had made him master of.

Ʋectorez who conjectur'd his own advantage in this proposition, because he had the greatest share of the Country. Subject to pillage, and less forces to defend them from the Enemies frequent incursions, willingly accepted the proposal; and Cyrus likewise assented to a Truce for some dayes, at the request of Gadates Mother, who begg'd that time of him, to have the conveniency of putting her affaires in order, land so dispose of them, as to be in a capacity of following her son whereever he remov'd. This good Lady was accompanied with her daughter Cephisa, who gave Cyrus no less cause to wonder at the excellency of her beauty, then her brother had at the effects of his rare courage. And indeed many of those that were obliged to approach her with becoming salutations, were much taken with her charming meen, though there appear'd some Characters and lines of sadness and trouble in her lookes, which gave the beholders a perfect knowledge of some inclination she left behind, whilst she was forced to waite and absent her self with her Mother.

[Page]This quiet interval gave way to the passion of Cyrus to shew its utmost power: the apprehensions for not hearing any thing of his Birinthea, which had been silenced by the diversions of war, now ceazed strongly, on his soul. One day as with these thoughts, he entertain'd himself on the Margen of a pretty river, which led its current through a shady Grove, having no other company, but such as were his obliged attendants for his guard, he caused them to stay at distance, that he might with more liberty give himself up to his Melancholly reflections, and after a long and silent thought fullness, which can be better guess'd at, then discribed, but which as since appear'd was altogether fix'd upon his dearest Princess, he pronounced her fair name in a bemoaning accent, which yet had not the liberty to get out of his lips, without the interruption of a thousand sighes that usher'd and attended it.

Whilst he was in this uncomfortable posture, he casts his looks beyond the river and beheld some Cavaliers, with drawn weapons, that attaqu'd three or four other men in rustique habits, who did defend a woman in the like garb, with more valour then could be hoped for, in persons of their coats; the inequality of the combatants did quickly rowse and call up his generosity, he laid by his thoughts of love to make use of his courage, and mounting his horse as hastily as he could, he swam him cross the water, together with these that attended him, but though his diligence were great, he could not get in time [Page] enough to save the woman from being hurried away; however he posted after those Cavaliers, and having demanded, as he past along, of one of the company that came with the woman, what person it was, they thus forced from them; he was amazed to hear Abracome cry aloud, (whom he discover'd by his voyce) that it was Birinthea, they thus ravished thence. That name hindred all other discourse, it was alone more then he would have heard, and being led now, more by the violence of his passion, then he was ere while by his valour, it may be said, he rather flew then rode after those theves, that carry'd thence that treasure (he esteem'd above all Diadems) out of his sight and presence, whom he at last oretook long before any of his company could reach thither.

It were a task next to impossibility to relate; with what fury he set on them: three or four of them instantly made head against him, to give their associates the opportunity of getting into a little City neer hand: but he beat thorough them, and as lightning, darting forwards, when he had scatter'd those opposing swords, he overtook the others just at their entrance into the gates. Though they were many that resisted Cyrus, yet had they need of the first corps de guard to assist them, but the rest of his followers being joyned with him did so gallantly second his valour that after they had laid many on the earth, they entred pell-mell with their Enemies, who to avoid their blowes retreated further within the City.

The hurry and confusion was so great, that [Page] few disputed his attempt to get in the City, and as if it had been taken by assault, the report soon came to his ear, that had the chief commanded there. He was so surpriz'd with this alarme, that without staying for his company's to be drawn up, he ran hastily towards the Gate, where he was told the Enemies had made their way: and there found most of his men flying some one way, others another, whilst Cyrus eagerly pressed those that yet durst hinder him. He soon knew by his valour, that he was head of that enterprize: and therefore having reproached the cowardize of his guards, that could not stand against so small a power, he made them wheele off, and crying aloud to Cyrus, that it was he must be first conquer'd, if they would gain the place; he discharg'd such a blow that Cyrus had much a doe to save himself, whereby he found that he had now a more dangerous Enemy to deale with: and then, indeed, as if he had before reserved his chiefest strength, he joyned all his courage and resolution to his former hear, to buckle with this fresh and vigorous apponent:

Never had Combat been written in deeper wounds, had they not been as skilful to avoid, as they were desparate to give them; nor had they ended this duel but with death, if some of the Governours Officers then arriving, finding him so overmatch'd by Cyrus, had not overpoured him by their numbers, who having lost much blood, seemed to be only animated with his love, and after a while sunk on his horses [Page] neck and then rol'd off, under his feet.

Zorbas, who was this Governour, instead of taking advantage of this fall, was angry with those that caused it, whose generosity not brooking, what his Valour had not purchased, caused him straigtwayes to be lifted up, and finding him covered with blood that streamed from several wounds, commanded he should be carried to the next Captains house, adjoyned to the gate, where he came in, and there took special care to have both him, and all his followers drest by his best Chryrurgions before he left the place. He also gave order to have the Gates secured▪ having waited some time to see if any other Forces would appear, not having faith enough to believe that those few Prisoners could have alone the confidence to force his Guards. After a while he returned again to Cyrus, who notwithstanding the smart of his wounds, and the shame of his Captivity, testified, he thought nothing troublesome compared to his fears for Birinthea, after whom he often inquired of those that were in presence.

Zorbas aborded him so civily, that although he were prepossess'd with those griefs, he could not but observe something in him, which is not to be met with in ordinary persons, and from which he derived (setting aside his interests) no small or mean hopes of all the favour that can be expected from a Noble Enemy. Their first discourses were nothing but just and mutual praises they paid each others valours: in fine, Cyrus [Page] prompted by his affection, beseeched Zorbas to let him give him in particular, an account of the reasons that had urg'd and drawn him to this pursuite of his men even within his Gates, and Zorbat being first inform'd that Cyrus might use the liberty of his Speech without any detriment to his health; after he had cleared the Chamber of other Auditours, Cyrus spake thus to him. Generous Warriour, I should have reason to conceal the Cause and Subject of my present condition. if I were not to relate it to a person who has the gifts of too many other brave quality's, to be a stranger to the experience of what has thus engag'd me.

Love is that puissant Deity whose power your Soldiers could not withstand, he fought in my person, nor should I ever have admitted the least thought of violating the Articles of Truce, had I not unhappily beheld her, brought into this City, who alone has the absolute and intire posse [...]sion of my Heart and Liberty. Judge you, what reason I had to follow her, and whether it were not stricktly just, finding her in my Enemies hands, in a time when I was impatient to know her condition to endeavour to save and recover that treasure of my Soul: but since my designe was defeated by your means, 'tis from your only favour that I can hope to attain the blessing of beholding her and to you alone must I owe the O [...]ligation for that immense, and more then ordinary savour. You have expressed and practic'd too much the Laws of generosity in my behalf already, to refuse this addition of Grace, and I dare trust your Virtue so far as to be confident that you will suffer some Messeng [...]r to go and wait on her in the behalf of a Persian [Page] Gentleman; and also assure her from you, that she may safely disband all her fears, so long as she is under your happy protection.

Who ever you are Answered Zorbas, though I were not Witness of your extraordinary Valour, yet to say you fought under the Standard of that potent God, were alone enough to make me quickly resigne my Sword and yield.

I should not have offered to oppose you, had I known what Interest inspir'd and enflam'd your courage, and I do much regret to have resisted one that was so bravely busied in his quarrel, who is my Soveraign Lord, no less then he is yours. Dispatch whom you please to that honoured Lady, and I will personally accompany him, to disengage and free her from those infamous ravishers, and if you take it for a favour that I should help you to her sight and presence, I shall expect no other reward, then only that you would obtain the pardon I now crave for my Mens Insolence, which I shall expiate by any satisfaction she and your self can further demand of them or me, and that you may enjoy the full Liberty of her converse and society, I leave you, and so adue, Generous Lover, and would to Heaven, that I could ever hope for the same happy fate, I now procure you, by this willing Observance and Civility. — He passed out after these words, and commanding the Captain that had charge of the Prisoners to give them all full liberty to be by themselves, he went along with him whom Cyrus had appointed to fetch his Byrinthea.

This Excellent Lady, who little knew she had such interested Protectors so near, was confin'd [Page] to a close Chamber, wherein she was lock'd up with a Wench and a Souldier that stir'd not from the door. The barbarous Villain scarce gave her liberty to bemoan her condition, or breath a sigh, but seeing her in a habit suitable to that disasterous Captivity, he proffer'd his comforts, and impertinent frenzies to abate her sorrows, and told her, to dry up her trifling and fruitless tears, that she was but too happy in being valued by him that had brought her to this pass: this insolent Courtship sensibly offended her; who must needs be Mistris of a rare patience to endure it, that knew her self to be ador'd by the greatest of Princes: but she had reason in that distress to suffer all this and more, rather then discover unreasonably what she was; and Zorbas step'd into the room, just when she was defending her self against the rude caresses of this rough fellow: She was truly joy'd that his presence put an end to the others insolence: but yet another fear stept in to make her fortune less compleat, which was an apprehension that this was the person had surpriz'd her for his own base ends: nevertheless the civility of his mild approach, promised more good, and gave her way to reassume her first fair hopes; and as he was very discreet, he had no sooner met her, and performed the most usuall and becoming Ceremonies of Salutation, but he intreated she would be conducted to a Frie [...]ds house, where, he doubted not, but she would find a greater satisfa [...]ion, and con [...]ent, then she could probably expect in such an invitation.

[Page]Though these words spoke of happiness she seemed to fear the contrary by her amaze; a sudden bashfulness orespread her face, which carried rather the marks of virtue then of shame in the beholders opinion, and only answering what he said, with a respectfull silence: Whither do you lead me said she to the other, that proffer'd her his hand to that intent. May I tread confidently where you guide me without offence to Virtue? Or were it not better to let me dye in this same Place? Ha! My Lord Continued she, turning towards Zorbas, if you have as much true sence of Honour, as you perswade me: leave me not in these apprehensions, but assure me, before I go, that I shall meet no danger in the Obedience I now pay you.

To remove these Scruples and Threatning Apprehensions, Zorbas promised faithfully, she should be treated with all the respect and decency she could desire, or that Country could afford: but his deepest oathes could not gain her belief; so that she went forward with much dread and diffidence, and with a positive resolution to dye, rather then yield to any dishonour or undecent attempt against her innocent person, for which she had no Guard or Security besides that noble intent, as Heroick and Gallant, as she was Chast and beautiful. At her first entrance into Cyrus's Chamber, whom she as yet knew not to be there, she found her fears increased by the sight of one in Bed, from which she was steping back by a trembling retreat, fancying they had brought her there for that which she apprehended [Page] a thousand times more then death it self, but Cyrus perceiving it, inform'd her better by these words, Fear not to approach me, Madam, You need not doubt you shall hazzard that now; which I endeavour'd to save at the price of my Life: it was to hinder and prevent the unhappiness you start from, that put me into this wounded condition. In a Word, let it suffice to tell you, that you here meet with him, who in the first moment of beholding your fair shape, and being blest with an early knowledge of your great quality, and greater virtues, could not deny you his heart and liberty, together with your Fathers forfeited Life, who yet breaths only to tell you, nay and make it appear by more Eminent and becoming Services, that he lives only for you, and to whom you have, by an express Message, done the high Favour to command his assistance in the like occasion against Cyaxares. If my unhappiness, Madam, has not permitted me to effect it, as you desired, accuse nought but the rigour of my Fate, for whose perverseness I am at present too much recompensed, since the Gods have favourably seconded my intentions, and have honoured me with the Satisfaction and advantage of signing your decree and service with my blood.

Birinthea was so surprized at this accident, that although she knew him by his voice and visage, yet she made it a question whether she might safely credit the joyful, but unexpected Intelligence of her eares and eyes. In fine, having fastned her steady looks upon him, and made a more minute survey of those known features: What, said she, Generous Prince, Will misfortune [Page]never cease struggling against our inclinations: Must I still owe my Obligations singly to you; and yet be forced to remain ungrateful, Ah, how unjustly fortune rewards your merits, by denying me the power to retribute those high favours I am indebted for; those worthy services you have performed, requires with justice the love that I had made you hope for; but I am now necessitated to recall it; and therefore employ no more either your care or courage, if you make that your pretence and aime, for my devoir forbids me now to harbour affection towards you; Nay so far is it from that, as I am bound to declare, that its not altogether convenient, I should admit you to love me. We are both equally unfortunate in this estate; I being obliged to ingratitude, after so great a sum of goodness paid by your valour and clemency to me; and you for having been so liberall of your Noble virtues without the meanest of returns in satisfaction. I might nevertheless, flatter your hopes a new with some fresh pretences, in the necessity I am in, to ingage your protection against those rude hands I am fallen into: but know Sir, at least, if I cannot repay the acknowledgements you desire of me, yet I can be so just and reasonable as not to delude you in it. I doubt not but this discourse begets your wonder: and truly it will not be expected other from him who had such fair hopes of the contrary: But it requires more time and strength then we are Master of at present to make it known, I should unriddle these Enigmaes if you were in a sitting posture: be careful therefore only of your care, and if my Honour or Life are of any value to you, preserve your own with tenderness.

[Page] Preserve my Life reply'd he, After these killings words, Madam, you impose impossibilities; before you injoyned me to live, you took away the means, by taking away my hopes. How cruel you are, Birinthea, to wish me to live, and yet forbid me to Love, which are things above my power. Indeed, Said she interrupting him, I desire you would love me with less heat and passion: but you expound my thoughts ill; and you reproach that as a cruelty, which is indeed compassion; Since I command it only for your quiet and ease, to shelter you from those storms of trouble will otherwise fall upon you. Ah no, reparted he, cease I beseech you, Madam, to be pittiful in this manner, the peace and repose you wish me, would be more insupportable a thousand times, then the sufferings of my passion, and to testifie how dear they are in my esteem, whilst I endure them for you. I will struggle to live and obey you to undergoe them the longer. That cannot be obedience as I expect Answered She, to desire to suffer, I enjoyn you to live, that you may live happier: but to remove the doubts you may entertain of the veritie of what I have already made known, I perceive it will be necessarie I should relate to you all that has occurr'd in Media and Armenia, that so you may approve my reasons, when I have produced them ▪

Since you departed from Ecbatane your Ʋncle Cyaxares thought fit to come and see my Mother, whom he had not yet visited in the apartment alotted by him for us, where he paid her more respect and civilitie then formerly he was wont, Phraorte and Arthemisa had also a share in this honour, and only I, of all our familie, missed[Page]of this Ceremony, detained in my chamber by a slight Malady But as I was the person he chiefly design [...]d to wait on, he made a particular enquiry for me, and being informed that I was indisposed, and not in a condition to admit his Societie, it pleased him to send me a complement by one of my Maids, which I then interpreted an effect of civility.

Pheretime, My Mother, was so highly satisfied with this Visit, that he no sooner left the place, but without delay she came with Phraorte and Arthemisa to give me the News, and promise the hopes of a quite contrary treatment then what we since tasted; and two short dayes, which were required to put me in a condition of health, were thought by her too long to stay from giving him thanks for that Courtesie. She went the very next day, together with my Brother and Sister; and not to omit the least punctilio, She carried my excuse for not being in a capacitie of performing that devoir which seemed too weightie to be neglected.

Having quitted him, they went to his Queen, whither he would needs accompany them; and that good Princess gave them so favourable a welcome, and shew'd such singular testimonies of affection, that Pheretime charmed with her caresses, and the affable sweetness of her entertainment, begg'd the permission to repeat her visits frequently: In a short time afterwards she carried me to kiss her hands; and She made me so pleased with her winning and hearty reception, that it out-bad the indulgence and fondness of most Mothers. I cannot express, indeed, what Respect and Affection this insprired in me towards her, no more then I can tell you her[Page]tenderness towards me: I was her dearest Daughter, so She ever termed me, and I was more Conversant, and much more constantly attendant on her, then on Pheretime.

But as the Queen loved me with so great Affection, so the King fancy'd me with no less Passion; and I was compelled at length to make the ones Amity a buckler to defend me from the others Amours. Nor do I well know how to guess what had, ere this, been become of Birinthea, if the Virtue and Discretion of so generous a wife had not shielded me from the violent attempts of so unsutable a Husband, who yet, practised a long reserved silence, ere she would make her tongue my advocate. We still were sharers in all the divertizements and pasttimes at Court, no Assembly could be thought compleat that had not brought us in, and those that had been unacquainted with our condition, would sooner have judg'd us to be Princesses of his blood, then distressed Captives, and truly I must needs confess the Noble Ʋsage we then had, made our condition very supportable, and setting aside, the liberty of residing at our own home, my Mother still remain'd in the Rank of a Queen; and her Children of Royal Princes. The soft cords of our Captivity admitted but few Pressures or Regrets, and Cyaxares took so hearty a delight in chearing and diverting us, that we had scarce the leasure to reflect on our late troubles: but as no excess or violence lasts long: our fair dayes were soon over-cast with blackness, and those early blossoms nipt at their first pretty blooming; for I then began to know that Pheretime, Phraorte and Arthemisa owed all the goodness and respect paid [Page]them in that Court, to the wild passion Cyaxares till then kept clossested in his heart for me.

One day, when the purity of the air, had tempted me to walk with my Maids in, those pleasant allies, thorow the Royal park, which lead toward the brook, he hapned to be very neer me, ere I was aware: which gave him opportunity to overhear what I spake to my Maid named Diomar, who has ever been my cheifest confident, and taking occasion to continue the very same discourse rather then seem to interrupt what then my thoughts were busied with, he presented me his hand, and leading me still in the same walk, as well as words, cunningly wiredrawd them to his own ends, which having engag'd me to attention he prosecuted thus.

If all these pleasing objects in this Park, the pretty children and products of Art and Nature were not inanimate, how glorious would they esteem themselves to be so honourd with your fancy and delight in them: but give me leave to answer for them to all you say, the satisfaction you express'd concernes me, since I am Master of them, who am too happy that there is any thing belonging to me has the power to please or content you. Your Majesty, reply'd I, not knowing whither his discourse tended, does almost rob me of the meanes to thank you for those favours you impart, by indeavouring to perswade me that it is some advantage to you that I am so well satisfied with these objects. But my opin [...]on must take the confidence to dispute this a little with your civility, and you, I know, will pardon[Page]me, when I dare tell you: that tis some wrong to your own vertue, to make your felicity consist in my sole approbation, rather then seek for it, in its own proper origine and center, since none, I humbly think can be expected from me sufficiently correspondent to your great bounty. 'Tis I, that with more reason should value it able sing to be in such a Monarch's power, who takes no other advantage of our Captivity, then the frequent occasions to make known his generosity, and who is so profuse of his grace and favours, that we may reckon it a gain to have left our liberty, which cannot be so highly prized by any one, but they would freely forfeit it, to enjoy what you so readily confer each moment.

Spare, Madam reply'd, the King, spare this discourse for something that better deserves it, and if I have been so fortunate as to oblige you to tell me so: beleeve Birinthea, that all the cheap observances you have yet met with, are but the small effects of that greater inclination I have for the honour of your service. But what must I now hope for after this declaration, can you with justice disesteem a cause, whose effects you praise so rarely, Great King, said I, those two things have too far engaged me already: but the acquaintance you have with my present condition and your own, will tell you, that it is less in my power to correspond with the one then the other, and besides what can you rationally expect from a Princess that has not so much as her own liberty. That she should, answerd he to interrupt me, accept of the present I now make of mine in retaliation, that she would vouchsafe to be my Soveraign, and suffer me to be her servant. You have a mind to prove, reparted [Page]I, whether I am capable of presumption your Majesty delights in this tryall, but I beseech you to beleeve, that the honours you have baited your temptations withall, are too weak to violate my Respect and Modesty, and I shall borrow so much Humility from my Virtue as to assure you, that I shall never own so great a vanity, since I am instructed by my own defects to declare, that I have not a stock sufficient to claime the merrit of the meanest favour, I would now thank you for. These evasions, Birinthea; are witty, reply'd he, and I perceive that I must court you rather with effectual services then words, and I will follow that method hereafter, and make good what I intend for your satisfaction by more authentique performances, which shall write my affection in more, noble characters, since you beleeve but slightly when I speak them.

He left me with this compliment, and Diamar, who had taken notice that our converse was too eager to be of an ordinary concerne only, came to me assoon as he was absented, and desired to know, what might be the discourse; that had called so much colour into my face. I would not hide the truth of it from her, to prevent her judgement by my instructions from being seduced by the King, who I was confident would endeavour to corrupt her, and having summoned all our reason to aid us in our consultation what to doe in this case, I resolv'd to dissemble, and make the King know, I reckned all this but as gallantry and formal complaisance, and strictly commanded her not to discover it to any other, and likewise to give me an exact account if ever the King made any discourse to her concerning it.

[Page]Many dayes past over in which Cyazares said no more of this passion, whilst he continued to doe us all the good offices could be expected: but in the end being tyr'd with such a fruitless patience, and spurd on by desires, he repeated all those former protestations, with such pressing words, and vehement motions, that I apprehended he would have forgoteen all sobriety and sence of honor. In this conflict, I had much adoe to manage his reason, if I treated him civilly he became insolent, if I checqued his insolence, he flew into violence, so that by the frequent changes of our lookes, and the alterations of our voices when we met, the judicious soon conjectur'd the matter of our discourse, The Queen who is extremely discreet was one of the first that guess'd it, and conversing with me once in private, relying on the conjectures she had made, she indeavour'd quaintly to know the certainty: but miss'd her design, for I pretended not to understand her and turned the current of the inquiry into another channel.

The doubt I dwelt upon whether I should make known the truth or not to her, held me sometime in suspence. I feard she might become my Enemy if I declar'd my self her rival, and on the other hand, I apprehended that if I should conclude my privacy was but a token of my confederacy with the King. In the conclusion, knowing the solidity of his vertue, I thought most convenient to informe her fully [Page] of it, and beseeched her, when I had related every title to beleeve that it was made a secret, only upon the account of freeing her from the trouble such a report must needs have left upon the spirit of a Princess that so intirely honourd her husband.

This worthy Queen in lieu of showing any disturbance, told me mildly, She was sorry her present condition proved an obstacle to my advancement, and that the quality of the Kings mife should block up my way to the Median throne, where my great merti [...] would have placed me with more justice, and the Kings possion with more satisfaction, but to repair the wrong her fortune did me, I might safely promise my self all the favour she could possibly with honour compass for me, above all she remmended the love and practise of vertue to me, as the only assistance I could expect to league with against her husbands illegal flames and attempts, and she forbad me also to disclese it either to my own Mother or sister till she found it convenienter.

I was highly satisfied with her temper and goodness, she bearing so great a share of the trouble; and to shun the Kings importunate courtship, who persecuted me with a perpetual expostulation, I kept my self the most that I could with her, because in her presence he could not so well have the liberty of a secret speech, or more open address: but when he perceived that I avoided those opportunities, he made use of a new Stratagem and engine, having gain'd and notably instructed one of the Queens maids of her Chamber to sollicite and plead for him, who [Page] was so over diligent in her duty; that I had scarce a minute of intermission when the Queen was absent. I told the Queen of this new instrument, but she was forc'd to suffer her, to keep the King in temper, who nevertheless began to show some anger, and sometimes borrow'd the threatnings of severity to quell my braving constancy, which beat off all the essaillants he so long had kept in action against me.

What troubles, good gods, did I not suffer, and what considerations did I not produce to sattisfy his passion, the fear he was in to displease me did sometimes qualify his fury; but, in the end, being one day come to visit me at the Queens, where I had lodg'd, hearing me answer him somewhat freely, not as a slave, but a Princes, he likewise grew sharpe, and turning away discontented, he told me, that since I made no better use of the honour he was willing to confer, in treating me so civilly, he would thenceforth make me know I was his prisoner, and that his proffers were not so despicable, to be thus scorned and refused, by a Captive as I was,

I protest, had he staid by me after this speech, I would have answer'd those insolencies, in a language fit for one of my birth and breeding: but he withdrew so suddenly, that all I could doe, was to waite on the Queen, where without takeing any notice which was present, I cast my self at her feet; and let her know more by my sighs and teares, then any words I could utter, what the now cause of my affliction was; every one much admir'd to see me in this disorder, knowing [Page] the singular respect, and favours I so frequently received at Court. She onely knew what sorrows did oppress me; and to be the more particularly inform'd, she caused all the rest to withdraw, into the Antichamber: when I had related all the King had threatned, she endeavoured by a thousand persuasions and caresses to wipe away my tears: and thinking it no longer necessary, to hide this unhappiness from Pheretime; she sent for her with Phraorte and Arthemisa. Imagine, Cyrus, what their astonishment was, when they were told the occasion of their coming. Had not the Queen of Media assur'd my Mother of it, it would have hardly gained her belief, but in fine, as it concerned us much to find a speedy remedy to allay the Kings violent heat and resolution, they concluded together, that it was best for us to remove for a while into the Country, that by my absence I might take away the effect of his anger, with the cause of it, in which time, the Queen engag'd to make it her only endeavour to sooth and reclaim him to his wonted mildness again. To this purpose, She proffer'd to carry us to one of her Country Houses, not above a dayes Journey from Ecbatane. This resolution being fixt, to depart within a day or two, I retired my self with my Mother, who was mightily troubled at this disaster, and who would needs be exactly acquainted of every Circumstance relating to this sad story.

The Evening before the day appointed, Phraorte [Page] being in my Chamber, we were advertized that the King demanded to see me, I ran hastily into my Mothers, for fear least he should surprize me in my own. Pheretime would needs go to receive him, but he ascended with so much precipitation, that he entred into her Chamber before she could get out to meet him, and having saluted her very coldly, he came directly towards me, and said, That since I had an intent to goe into the Country, he was unwilling the Queen should rob him of the advantage to procure me that divertisement.

I would have reply'd, but he gave me not the time, for taking me by the hand, he intreated I would follow him. Then Pheretime and Arthemisa would have staid me, Phraorte likewise ceazed on a Sword to rescue me, but was with held with the rest, whose strugglings were too weak to oppose the violence of his Guards, who by his order forced me thence into a Litter that waited at the Gate. He was inexorable to all my teares and prayers, pitty had left the lodging in his heart, for a more rash and resolute guest, so after he had recommended the care of my person, particularly to those were to convoy me, he sent me to a Castle, whither I arrived about two hours after our setting forth. I know not what became of Pheretime, Phraorte and Arthemisa, or how they behaved themselves afterwards, having heard no tidings of them ever since: But for my own part, I was entertained in that Castle, with more respect, then if I had [Page] been the Median Queen; I had Eunuques for m [...] Guard, and Gentlewomen to attend me: I was conducted to an apartment no less beautifull then splended, where Cyaxares had contriv'd, that I should meet with all the delights imaginable to charm and dispel those sorrows and troubles, which are incident to those in my condition. Nothing that yields pleasure either to a curious ear or eye was omitted: for when I had sullenly refused to tast of a choice Supper and Banquet, being withdrawn into a pretty Closet to weep my fate at liberty, they sung so harmoniously in the next Room, that at any other time I should both have admir'd, and equally lov'd it, but I was wholly possessed with grief, and besides that portion of vexation, I ressented a particular hate and disdain for those entertainments, designed to delude and tempt me from my too just apprehensions and fears of following dangers; if not ruine. This made their subtil endeavours become so importunate, that it but rais'd up more, those Spirits they would have laid, and instead of soothing me, urg'd me to send them word by an attendant, that if their orders were to procure my content, they could not find a more ready means then by their sudden silence.

Night was grown old, when I went to my bed, where I passed the remaining tedious moments of it, in bitter sighs and tears, and not without the dreadful suspicions of some following violence to succeed from Cyaxares. With the early [Page] Light came an Eunuque into my Chamber, before I could start up, to bring me the wish of a happy morning from him; and told me, that he had already waited a long time for my rising. It would have been in vain to refuse his visit, since it was as much out of my power, as it was in my will to hinder it; Therefore I converted necessity into Policy, and received him with a more outward show of Civility and Respect, then aversion.

As soon as he had Saluted me, he demanded if I were satisfied, with the entertainment I had found, to which I reply'd, That if I might be allow'd the freedom to tell the unfeigned Truth, I should rather have elected to be treated like a Captive and mean Slave, provided he had not torn me out of the Sanctuary of my Mothers Arms and Bosome, then to be the unwilling and unhappy partaker of all his Princely Entertainments, in this separation, upon which he made this repartie, That excepting the presence of Pheretime, I should miss nothing of that usual tenderness and care she still had for me.

A [...]l his discourse kept, thus, within the confines of modesty and respect, till I was ready to go into the Litter again, then he commenc'd, but with a steady moderation to Court me, and declare his love, and he implor'd me to excuse the troubles and fatigues of that Journey, to which the necessity of his affairs, as well as his reason and passion made him hurry me. I heartily insisted also to conjure him, by all the powers of that affection he profess'd towards me, to suffer [Page] either Pheretime or Arthemisa to come to me, but all I could obtain was an assurance, that I should rest in as much security where he would leave me, as if I were still in their eye and Guardianship.

At length I arriv'd, where he design'd to lead me, The place was rarely pleasant for its scituation, The Castle being built on a little rising ground, fastned to the foot of Mount Orontus, from whence lies a brave prospect Eastward, being a large Champagne, and upon one hand a fertile Vale, whose border is fring'd with a pure Silver Stream, which wantonizing, with a Serpentine, or indented Figure, and a slow stately pace, creepes through a sumptuous Garden, where Art has turn'd it to a thousand Rivolets and Fountains, to imbellish that New Eden, whose united streams meeting, again, together at the lower end of this Paradize make a pleasing murmur, as if rejoycing at each others sight after so long a separation, and swelling to their first breadth make a Channel that divides this spacious Garden from the well-stored Park: but as there is nothing can make a Prison delightfull, where Golden shackles are no lesse ponderous then Iron Gyves, the very restraint putting a stamp of discontent and aversion on all those lesser diversions, so these serv'd onely accidentally to augment my griefs. One of the greatest troubles I sustain'd in this solitary confinement, was the want of a Compagnon, in whose faithful brest I might deposi [...]e my secret thoughts, and I had ever languish'd in this unhappiness, [Page] if the virtuous Queen, your Aunt, had not sent me the blessing of a Letter by an Eunuque, who was intirely her Creature, and for whose fidelity she was responsible. Narsetes, so was he called, in delivering me the Letter, she favour'd me withal, told me the strickt and noble charge he had to be at my devotion and command to the utmost of his ability.

The good Offices this Fellow rendred me, did much deminish my Melancholly, by his means I oft received and returned Messages to the Queen, and my Dear Mother, and I was inform'd, that Cyaxares who had a good while left me, intended shortly to renew his visit. I confess, also that, had it not been for his Counsel, I should have been more refractory and stubborn at his summons to receive him. I resolv'd indeed, to let him know my anger, and distaste; but to moderate it so, withall, as not to exasperate his too much; but when he was present, my slights were not proof against his passions, he discovered my Stratagem and defeated it, and had certainly proceeded to violence, if Narsetes had not prudently interpos'd, and stept between my virtue and his lust, so that for my part, I believe, I owe the preservation both of my Honour and Life to that faithful Eunuque, since the King should never have rob'd or deprived me of the one, but with the other. Narsetes amuzed him with the promise of tempting me to a compliance, as flexible as his desire was solicitous, if he would but allow him a convenient time to effect it, Cyaxares [Page] consented, though with some reluctance, to this tryal; but he prescribed him so exact and short an interval, that in the urgent necessity, not knowing what to act to divert this ugly fate, I remembred that you had left Abracome in Ecbatane, to serve me, in any thing my fortune might challenge of you.

Can I tell you without a blush, Cyrus, that you were the first I cast my eyes and hopes upon, as the Protector of our shatterd Family. Your generosity, from whose plentifull stock I had already gathered so much benefit, and the fair Amity you had vow'd with honour to me, created a most probable belief in me, that as you alone were most able, so you would be most ready and wiling to rescue her, who seemd to stand a favorite in your esteem. Upon these, hopes I wrote that Letter, which came safe to your hand [...], upon that Subject, and addressing it covertly to my Mother; by Narsetes assistance, she gave Abracome Commission to convey it to your self, which he performed with that faithful diligence, that has obliged us both extreamly to him. It was some time, before I received the news of your loss, which that trusty Servant brought me, and this was obstructed by the jealousies of a woman, whom the King kept as a spy upon me, who had given him so many hints of distrust for you, that he once more secretly convey'd me to a place unknown to any of my Relations. Narsetes was a while suspended through fear from giving my Mother any notice of it, but redoubling his design [Page] to save me, as Cyaxares did to ruine me, he cast about till he had news of Abracomes return, and foreseeing the need he should stand in of his person and assistance to compleat his project of freeing me, his industry happily light upon a handsome plot to bring it about.

Birinthea, would have pursu'd her History, when Zorbas entred the chamber, and told them that the General of the Medes and Persians had sent in a Trumpetter, to demand his prisonners.

The remainder of Cyrus's company, who could not get into the City time enough with him, being returned to the Camp with Abracome, quickly gave intelligence of his being taken: Tygranes, Artabase, Gadate, Gobrias and the chief Officers of the Army, being assembled speedily to consult about this important accident, resolv'd first to keep secret the absence of their General, whom they thought Zorbas could not well detain, and send to redemand him as a private Officer, whom he could not with-hold without a breach of the Articles of truce.

To induce Zorbas the more to restore him blind-fold, and prevent the curiosity he might have to seek the knowledg of him, they intreated a Lady, whom he lov'd passionately, and who was at that time in their power and Camp, to write a Ticket to him, which that generous Lady, to recompence the inestimable obligations she owed Cyrus, immediately traced in these words.

[Page]Zorbas, if the opportunity of doing me a favour be pleasing or welcome, hardly can you ever expect to meet with a fairer then this, or make a greater or happier advantage of it then by returning those Persians speedily to the Camp, that are now in your hands, whom you cannot justly detain, as not being prisoners by Article, and whom you should deliver, because I request it.

Though this Ticket were not signed, Zorbas was so happy in the acquaintance of the Characters, that he no sooner received and read it, but he immediately went to Cyrus; to whom he said; shewing him the paper, that he was hugely sorry to part with him so soon, and wanted the due time to confirme so strickt an amity as he much long'd to contract with him, but that the decree he held in his hand, had hastned him to come and let him know, he was at liberty with all his party to returne when they pleas'd: provided his wounded body could admit of a remove. Cyrus not being able to conceive from whence Zorbas had so suddenly received these orders, beseeched him to tell it; and Zorbas after he had read it, assur'd him, it came from a person so much his Soveraign, that he would count his life but a mean loss, if compar'd to her favour; and therefore could consult no reason but hers in what concerned his obedience towards her, which he would never forfeit, whilst in his power to performe; and therefore earnestly intreated him to let her know at his return, how diligent [Page] and zealous he had been to accomplish her injunctions.

Cyrus having reply'd, with as much generosity as Courtship, that this was the least service he could pay to requite so much civility, desired him, that on the next morning he might free him from the trouble of his unhandsome, because unhealthy company; by reason of his wounds: Zorbas however consented not to it, till the Chyrurgions had assured he might be removed without danger, and having ended his complements with Cyrus, he renew'd them by a fresh address to Birinthea, shaping a thousand excuses for his mens insolencies, and pray'd her to declare what satisfaction she thought fit to demand, knowing an ordinary death was too cheap a justice and payment for so daring a crime, wherefore he left them to her sentence. This Princess, whose mercy swayd above all other sentiments, told him, that it would seem to relish of ingratitude, if after such choice obligations, which wip'd out all the other scores of injury, she should be so unjust as to demand their lives. Wherefore as she had reason to be concern'd in all that related to him, so she not only would profess it, but evidently prove it by begging their lives of him, as a particular grace and mercy.

The night was now much wasted, and therefore Zorbas having answerd in a few words, that she might absolutely dispose of the lives and fortunes of those insolent fellows, took his leave, and commanded the mistriss of that house [Page] where they lodg'd, to prepare a bed with all things convenient for Birinthea, who immediately retyr'd, to prevent any scandal might be taken, if she made any longer stay with Cyrus. Zorbas likewise dispatch'd away the Trumpetter to the Persian Army, to take order against the next morning for fetching away his prisonners, and gave them special charge of the letter he return'd in answer to his Lady.

In the mean while, our Heroe's excessive joy for the sight of his dear Princess, was so great it quell'd for some time the alarm which the beginning of her discourse had disquieted and threatned him withall, and as one highly satisfied with his own prosperous affection, he consumed the remainder of that night with the pleasing fancies of happy lovers. But then the sadder remembrance of those less promising speeches entring again into his mind, when the first light of day peep'd into his bed; Ah, cry'd he, Am I so much a false friend to my self, as yet to flatter my hopes, did not Birinthea tell me, that she could not love me? Nay which is more, that she ought not to encourage or suffer me to love her? Great gods, wherefore then did she come to seek me out? Does she expect the protection of one whose affection she cannot entertain? and does she cast her self into his armes, whose flames she must and will banish out of her heart? How unjust and cruel are you Birinthea, if you intend seriously to re [...]ect my fair pretences, since you know I cannot cherish life, but as you cherish my love: But in fine, what is it you aime at? Must I employ the unlucky residue of[Page]my power to advance the prosperity and bliss of some triumphant rival? Must all my Army fight to tear of my own glorious Wreaths and Crowns, and set them on anothers prouder head? What meane you, Birinthea, by these services you claime? But —O how impudent is this curiosity and strugling? and how offensive to that respect and reverence I owe you; pardon dear Princess, come lets obey, and serve her with a religious and blindfold submission, and whether life or death be the success, bow under fate, since she commands the triall; she is my Soveraign and may dispose of all my Fortunes, and it must needs be as glorious, as it is doubtfull now to Cyrus, to have contributed towards her felicity, what ever be the event.

He was disturbed with these perplexing reflexions, even whilst he slumbred, till some attendants came to his bedside to tell him, if he had reposed enough, he might be going thence as soon as he desired. The first inquiry he made, was for his Princess, and to be inform'd whether she were yet ready, but understanding that Zorbas entertained her till his uprising, he sent to excuse his laziness, and being dressed and his wounds lookt to, which were the least of his paines, they carried him in a chayr to the place where Zorbas yet conversed with Birinthea, and there having paid his best civilities and thanks for the favours received at the Governours hands, who repented he was no more prodigal of them, since the occasion of adding to the store was now removing from him, they mutually [Page] embrac'd and bad farewel, and Cyrus was placed in a litter which waited him, whilst Birinthea was not sparing of her compliments to court Zorbas, who attended and helpt her into the Chariot he had prepar'd, and all those Persians that were in a fit posture to accompany them, had such conveniency as made their journey no less easy, then joyful, in regard of their liberty, to them.

Cyrus and Birinthea would have taken their last adieu of Zorbas, at the Gates, but he would needs convoy them till they meet the little troop which hastned to fetch and guide them to the Camp, which were but few in number to avoid all suspition and inquiry. Then they repeated — Myriads of new protestations and vows of never dying friendship, and made their closs embraces the last ceremonies and seals of future amity. When Cyrus had pass'd the verge of that River, where he first discover'd the ravishers of his dear Princess, Tygranes, Artabase, Gadate and all the prime Officers of his Army, who waited at the wood-side, came to congratulate his safe return. The Souldiers, all this time, knew nothing till their General was in his Tent, then it was publishd openly and they declar'd by their loud welcomes and acclamations, the hearty joy for his return so fully, that by it may be guess'd, what trouble and discontent would have possess'd each soul, had they not lived in the more happy ignorance of his late absence.

Information about this book

Title statement

Birinthea, a romance / written by J.B. gent.

Bulteel, John, fl. 1683.

Edition statement

1664

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2007-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A30100

ID [STC]

Wing B5454

ID [STC]

ESTC R175633

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

10831555

ID [OCLC]

ocm 10831555

ID [VID]

46063

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Early English books online.

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A30100)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 46063)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1417:14 or 2585:6)

Source

— Birinthea, a romance / written by J.B. gent., Bulteel, John, fl. 1683..

Extent

[12], 255 p.

Printed by Tho. Mabb for John Playfere .... London :: 1664.. (Reproduction of originals in the Harvard University Library and British Library.)

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