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 9] 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 10] 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 11] 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 12] 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 13] 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 14] 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 15] 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 16] 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 17] 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 18] 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 19] 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 20] 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 21] 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 22] 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 23] 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 24] 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 25] 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 26] 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 27]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 28] 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 29] 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 30] 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 31] 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 32] 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 33] 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 34] 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 35] 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 36] 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 37] 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 38] 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 39] 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 40] 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 41] 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 42] 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 43] 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 44] 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 45] 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 46] 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 47] 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 48]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 49] 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 50] 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 51] 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 52] 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 53] 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 54] 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 55] 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 56] 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 57] 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 58] 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 59] 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 60] 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 61] 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 62] 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,

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 64] 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 65] 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.

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 67] 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 68] 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 69] 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 70] 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 71] 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 72] 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.

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 108] 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 109] 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 110] 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 111] 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 112] 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 113] place from whence his words might reach their hearing most distinctly, he made this following Harangue to his souldiers.

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 115] 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 116] 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 117] 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 118] 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 119] 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 120] 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 121] 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 122] 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 123] 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 124] 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 125] 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 126] 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 127] 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 128] 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 129] 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 130] 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 131] 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 132] 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 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 178] 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 179] 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 180] 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.

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 182] 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 183] 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 184] 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 185] 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 186] 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 187] 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 188] 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 189] 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 190] 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 191] 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 192] 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 193] 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 194] 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 195] 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 196] 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 197] 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 198] 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 199] 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 200] 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 201] 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 202] 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 203] 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 204] 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 205] 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 206] 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.

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 209] 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 210] 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 211] 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 212] 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 213] 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 214] 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 215] 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.