LONDON, Printed for James Norris, at the Kings-Arms without Tem­ple-Bar. 1683.

TO Madam Sarah Monday.


SInce it is not only usual, but necessary, to present things of this Nature to some Female Saint, under whose Patronage they may rest safe and secure from the severe Lash of detracting, censorious Tongues; I thought it my Duty, as well as Policy, to [Page] send the fair Eromena to bear yon Company.

Tho she was a Princess endued with the greatest gifts of Fortune and Nature, (Wealth and Beauty) yet she resembles the Divine Na­ture in nothing more than a lowly Humility: and there­fore, Madam, I have good Reason to presume, that she cannot deny you to be one of her Maids of Honour.

As for the Noble Stran­ger, he desires to kiss your Hands with as great an Ar­dency [Page] as ever he did the love­ly Eromena's; and the only Reason he can give, is, be­cause you resemble her so well. He well knows what Altars ought to be erected to the Shrines of Wit and Beauty; and it would seem too much of Flattery in me to tell you how much you are Mistress of both: only Madam, be pleas'd to give them a candid and a gracious Entertainment. I dare be security enough, they'l be grateful and ingenious; and wherever they shall for [Page] the future happen to come, I doubt not but they will make good that of the incomparable Shakespear;

Not Marble, nor the gilded Monument
Of Princes shall out-live this powerful Line;
But you shall shine more bright in this Content,
Than dusty Trophies soil'd with sluttish Time.
'Gainst Death and all oblivious Enmity,
Still shall you live, your Praise shall still find room
Ev'n in the Eyes of all Posterity;
Were this frail World sunk to its final Doom.
So till in Judgment you again shall rise,
You live in this, and dwell in Lovers Eyes.


WHen the Earth had long lain marbl'd up in Frosts, and grown weary of the white Livery of Nature, began to invest it self with the more pleasing Enamel of the verdant Spring; when a young Spartan Lord, attended with a noble and magnificent Train, had almost spent the Morning in the Chase of a stately Stag, which they had [Page] forc'd from the safer protection of the Forest, to the hazards and perils of a flow'ry Plain, till dri­ven by his clamorous Persecu­tors to the horrid Ascent of a craggy Cliff; where, as it were grown proud to fall a Sacrifice, he sinks weeping, while the vi­ctorious shouts of his Hunters eccho the sad News of their Lea­der's Death to the distant Herds.

So soon as their shrill Horns had perform'd his funeral Obse­quies, their fight was entertain'd with a more startling and fatal prospect: from their lofty Sta­tion they behold a Ship, with Christian Colours, combating with an whole Squadron of Tur­kish Pyrates; the Air had not the [Page 3] least Blast of Anger in her looks, nor the Clouds of Horror, when the merciless Turks, with their prevailing numbers, over-pow­er'd, and boarded the wretched Christians, to whom nothing could possibly afford any aid but only the prevalent Oratory of their Prayers; which propitious Heaven soon heard, and pitying their Miseries, commanded a Delivery.

Presently the Clouds, big with impending Showers, loud Thun­der roaring, and horrid Light­ning roving through the darken­ed Air, proclaim a Tempest; Neptune rouls his watery Plains into transparent Mountains, and hurls them at the head of Jove; [Page 4] and Nature her self look'd so af­frighted, as if she would sink back into that matter that first cover'd the face of rude and un­digested Chaos; strait the floating Castles are torn; among the towering Cliffs, the Sails and Masts rent by the angry Winds from the huge Hulk, gave as sad Groans as departing Souls from sinful Bodies. But the day be­ginning by degrees to recover her lost Light, made way for a more sad Discovery: Now the curl'd Waves begin to display the Trophies of their Cruelty in a­mazing funeral pomps and scat­ter'd ruines; here you might be­hold some wretched Objects, that having long struggl'd with the [Page 5] foaming Billows, sink and dye; yonder a pair as constant in their Friendship as any whom the Po­ets have deify'd, meet their Fate both together, and dye in each others Embraces: the Trytons ra­vish the beautiful and tender Virgins in their Lovers sight, and afterwards quench those bright Lamps their Eyes in a too certain and unlamented Destiny.

Whiles such sad Spectacles drew pity from their Hearts and tears from their Eyes, a grating and surprizing Noise assaulted their Ears, which in base, igno­ble Cowards might have begot an extraordinary Fear, but in them stirr'd up a flame of Curio­sity and Courage, when they be­held [Page 6] under the Rock a Company of those shipwrack'd persons en­gag'd in a desperate Combate; but when by a nearer approach every Individuum became more plain and obvious, from Surprise they were to such a Wonder in which Poets use to celebrate their Heroes, to see a noble Christian with every Blow expell a Turk's black Soul. Yet at length the number of his Foes blunted the edge of his Valour, and had made him stoop to an ignoble Conquest, had not the brave Thersander (follow'd by his small Retinue of Hunters) by a speedy Aid, crown'd Christian Forti­tude with the Lavvrel of Victo­ry; vvhich vvas so compleat, [Page 7] that only one surviv'd to be the unwelcome Messenger of their Ruine.

But when Thersander and Ho­ratio (for so was the noble Chri­stian nam'd) took a serious view of their pitied dead, they found one worthy Soul that had not yet disserted the tottering habita­tion of Life, though his Wounds were so numerous and dangerous that his Friend, the Noble Hora­tio, took the greatest Care ima­ginable to restore his just expi­ring Spirits, to gather strength sufficient to get to Thersander's Palace; to which, he of his own innate Goodness (and their ne­cessity prompting) invited them to repose, making his Dwelling [Page 8] at once both a Sanctuary and the Throne of Charity to necessitous Strangers. 'Twas now in the cool time of the Evening, when Phoebus was repos'd in the lap of Thetis, when they arriv'd at the Castle

And here the extraordinary Splendour of the Palace, and the Commodiousness of its Scituati­on, are sufficient to commend themselves. It was loftily seated on the Ascent of a stately Hill, whose Basis was well fring'd with long-liv'd Oaks and prince­ly Cedars, which sweetly sha­ded the adjacent fragrant Mea­dows, through which a spacious River smoothly glided to inrich the flowry Valleys, and render [Page 9] them both pleasing and profita­ble.

Here the Noble Thersander chose rather to make his Resi­dence than in the lazy Greatness and idle Trifles of the glittering Court: here it is that he is now grovvn old in Virtue, and begins to bow under the weight of Time; and since all the Glories of his younger days, now in the Calm of his Age, had left him nothing to embalm his Name but Virtue, he strives in that to be at once the greatest Wonder and the best example to his Po­sterity, the least of his Actions being fill'd with a Goodness so sweet and amiable, that like the ruines of once flourishing Tem­ples▪ [Page 10] sacred to the Gods, the adoring Vulgar reverence their Memory, and think nothing more sacred than the demolish'd Monuments of never-dying An­tiquity.

In his Hall hung no Pictures representing the wanton embra­ces of an obscene Venus; nor in­deed any thing that had the least resemblance of Softness or Effe­minacy; the Walls were all a­dorned with useful and shining Armour, which his own Servants, valiant and loyal, manag'd when ever his Prince and Country re­quir'd their Assistance, and never made use of them against either in a popular Faction, whose cur­sed Seeds were first engender'd [Page 11] by Hell, and maintain'd by Am­bition.

His Friend Aphron being reco­ver'd of his Wounds, and Hora­tio's Discontent being quite lost in the splendour and pleasure of the Palace, they had no Remora to stay them, but only to pay those Acknovvledgments which the Gratitude and Generosity of Thersander requir'd them. They were just preparing to take their leaves, when a Messenger brings in a Packet to Thersander, con­taining a Mandate from his Roy­al Master, to attend him the next day; and that his Appearance at Court might be the more splendid and illustrious by such Attendants, he incites in them a [Page 12] strong desire to view the Royal Divertisements of the Court, by a Story, the fatal Truth of which hath often transferred the Spar­tans Glory to the utmost Confines of the Universe.

It was my Fate Sirs (said he) to be then an Attendant on my Prince, when the same occasion that draws him to this place now, prov'd at once the Cause of Joy and Grief. Not far from hence lies the Vale of Ceres, where his belov'd Eromena resides, a La­dy that Nature only created for Man to wonder at; and when created, she broke her Mould, so that since she has not been able to produce her equal: she vvas not more the comfort of his Age [Page 13] than the glory of her Sex. But I engage my self in a too tedious Relation, vvhich in brief take thus.

When Beauty was first enrich'd by Youth, with manly strength; her Royal Mother vvas the hap­py Partner of his Bed, who kept up a flame of Vertue in her Soul that gave light to a Beauty, truly great and excellent. Some years had now past over 'em since they were first acquainted vvith those private Pleasures that enrich the Nuptial Bed, 'ere she made her Offerings at Lucina's Temple. Both their good Angels sate in Council for her safety, and an universal Joy fill'd the Breasts of both Parents vvith big and preg­nant [Page 14] hopes of a Boy to be the Spartan Heir; while the Subjects express theirs in exalted Io's, and sounds of Triumph.

But when the preceding Pains told the fair Queen that the im­prison'd Infant long'd to be deli­ver'd, all the Gravest Ladies were call'd to her Assistance, who afforded Nature all the help of Art, but in despair of safety, send their Prayers to win relief from Heaven, which it soon sent by Harbingers, who carry'd the fair Queen to Heaven vvith them, whilst her Body only adorns the silent Mansions of the dead: for, no sooner had the unhappy Babe breath'd its first Salutes to the World, 'ere the dying Queen [Page 15] bids it farewel, and whiles her languishing Spirit expir'd with every Word, she bequeath'd this her last Legacy in these Words; Receive this young and tender Infant from thy dying Queen; name her Ero­mena. Here! Oh here! I conjure you by all our mutual Vows, let this sweet Babe preserve my Memory within thy Thoughts; and since the Powers above, within the dark Re­gisters of Fate, have ordain'd it that I no sooner am a Mother but must cease to be so, I once more request, that she may never be under any other Com­mands than what bear an equal Poize to your Paternal Care and fatherly Af­fection. This! this is all that can be left thee of thy dear Lucasia. Here in this shall you see my living Picture, [Page 16] whilst I, putting off the frail Robes of Mortality, take my Passage through the cold Grave, to mount and mingle with the shining Stars. O my Lord! Death would be all Charms and seem to me as the Smiles of Fate, and I with Pleasure should embrace it, would the fatal Sisters but spin the Thred of my Life to a little longer Date, that I might see this Infant grow a Woman: but, oh! I feel my dying Heart-strings break, and Life bids adiew to my dear Lord, and all the various Business of the World, to view what Changes lye hid in the Womh of Eternity.

Thus dy'd the Queen. —

Presently Grief and Convulsi­ons seiz'd the good King, and had certainly shook him from the Throne of Life, if the cheer­ful [Page 17] smiles and the pretty inno­cent looks of his Souls Darling had not recovered his long-lost Mirth; and stealing through all the Guards of Grief, with Joy renewed her Mothers Image in her smiles.

But now the Royal Princess having out-grown her tender In­fancy, needed no other Guardi­an to steer the Course of her Life than her own innate Vertue, which fill'd her Thoughts with heavenly seed, and so dispos'd her to all Good, that every Acti­on of her Life proclaim'd her Worth, and was an admirable Copy for the rest of the Court-Ladies to imitate.

[Page 18]The King her Father, to add Majesty and Splendour to her Vertue, assign'd an hundred of the noblest Youths of Sparta for her Guard: but (Princes are so sacred that their Actions are not in the least censurable by Sub­jects) it was some occult cause that mov'd the Prince to commit so select a Party to the Conduct of one that so ill deserv'd it; his Merits bore not the least pro­portion with his Birth; his Thoughts were ever high and soaring, beyond the sphear in which it had plac'd him; some seeds of Goodness lay here and there scatter'd in his Breast, which the Soil, too hot with Ambition, choak'd and wither­ed: [Page 19] now he would seem to co­vet the Acquaintance and Com­pany of the best, anon he is ea­sily seduc'd to the Cabals and fa­ctious Associations of the worst of Mankind; his Valour has for a long time fill'd the mouth of Fame, and born him up on the Wings of popular Applause, in­somuch that that which has of­ten prov'd the terror of his pale Foes, might be justly fear'd he designs to turn to the Ruine of his Friends.

But that which will scrue up your desire to a greater height than the wish'd society of Va­lour, is a Custom in this Court, which some Nations in the World have abrogated and ex­ploded, [Page 20] which the excessive love of her Royal Father had rais'd beyond all parallel, that as long as this Place is graced by his Re­sidence, no Cause, although Ca­pital, but is heard and judged by the Royal Princess, whose Mercy, when Despair has shrunk up the Spirits of the Opprest, has been their safest Refuge and Asy­lum.

But, that I might give you a more full and manifest Illustrati­on of her excelling Vertues, I would not have any Adventure vvhatsoever take you off, and hin­der your progess to the Court, whose Glories are too large and ample for Report to build on.

[Page 21]The noble Youths wond'ring to hear so much of Virtue, with Joy prepare to attend on the no­ble Thersander; when Fate, to shew her power, unhappily crost the expectation of the brave Strangers by a very unlucky ac­cident, to discover how much the Resolves of the best of Man­kind truckle, and submit to the mysterious Commands of in­visible Destiny.

For Aphron, that was lately recovered of his Wounds, met with a more dangerous and fatal Relapse; as soon as the blushing Aurora usher'd in the Morn, which he with painful expecta­tion waited for, complain'd of a shivering Benumb'dness in all [Page 22] his Limbs; his Reason long op­prest, and haunted with his Suf­ferings, disserted her feeble Man­sion, in whose Room it entertains only the wild Chimaera's of a sickly Fancy.

But the Paroxysms of that sharp Calenture being some­what abated, his Spirits retreat­ed to a sweet slumber; which Horatio perceiving, takes a short Noon-tide Walk to divert his troubled Mind, and contemplate the pleasing variety of Nature.

Who, to this end, seated him­self in the obscure shady Reces­ses of an aged Oak; near which, two Virgins, bright as the Morn and fresh as the Spring-glories of the flowery Meadows, [Page 23] had retired to cool their wearied Bodies, and preserve their bloom­ing Beauties from the ravishing Beams of the scorching Sun; the pleasing Airs of their well-tun'd Songs charm'd Horatio into a sweet sleep, while Fate soon con­triv'd by an unlucky Accident to unravel all their mirth, by turn­ing the sweet Harmony of their Voices into doleful Shriecks and a dismal Separation.

For, by chance some of the young Lords, willing to par­take of the pleasures of the morn­ing, had remov'd themselves some few miles from the Court; and to avoid the heat of the too prevalent Sun, betook themselves to the cool protection of a Wood; [Page 24] in which Retreat, the proud Al­manzor (Captain of the Prin­cesses Guard) wandring too great a distance from the rest, happen'd to enter the same Grove where the two unhappy Virgins were retir'd; whom, as soon as he espied, he directs his steps to­wards 'em with so eager a pace that it justly gave them cause of flight; a startling Fury in his face betray'd the unruly Passion that was hid within: he seizes Floridella, and with impious Rhe­torick and hot smothering Kisses, strives to assault the guarded Ca­stle of her Virtue; in vain she us'd her weak Force, and her Prayers and Tears were as little prevalent as that; now he sum­mons [Page 25] up all the choice of Elo­quence, anon he thinks Threat­nings the only way to make her surrender; Base and Unworthy Whore (quoth the lustful Ravish­er) that out of hate to Virtue deniest me that which thou freely grant'st to every dull rude Swain, think not that these false and hypocritical Tears shall deprive me of a Pleasure which the op­portunity both of Time and Place tells me I am Master of, whilst I offer to stoop thus low as to make thee Mother of a Son that might deservedly be the Glory of thy Family; nor art thou thy self ignorant that there is so great a disproportion between us as between Men and Gods.

Trembling Floridella's Fears gave her just Strength enough to answer him.

[Page 26] The Powers above (the Guardians of Virgin-Innocence) that with all-seeing eyes look into the inmost Recep­tacles of our Thoughts, know you wrong me: Never the least extravagant Thought or unlawful Desire found en­tertainment in my spotless Breast: I know the difference of our Births, but the poor name of Chastity exceeds all the splendid Titles of a glorious Whore, who turns the sweet Paradise of her Beauty into a thorny Wilderness, or a loathsome Dunghil. Think! Oh think! when Time shall be no more, at the last dismal Day (if our sacred Laws are more than Fables) the loss of Ho­nour will be the loss of my Heaven, which if preserv'd, our spotless Souls converse with Angels, and our Bodies become Temples, fit for none but Dei­ties [Page 27] to inhabit. But neither Pray­ers nor Tears could divert his unruly Passion: all strength of Oratory was in vain, and the poor breathless Nymph was brought to so low an Ebb, even almost beneath the power of Re­sistance, had not a young Swain (nam'd Menalcas, whom the force of Love did often cause to fre­quent these Groves) brought her a timely▪ and unexpected Aid: he neither disputes with fear nor policy, but with his Sword en­deavours the Rescue of the un­happy Virgin, till the fatal hand of the proud Almanzor made him fall a Sacrifice to her Chastity.

Now her Prayers and Shrieks fill all the ambient Air; at which [Page 28] Horatio (whom Floridella's voice had before charm'd into a sweet slumber) startled, and directed by the sound, hasted to discover what the Uncouthness of the noise might be; where when he came, he saw poor Menalcas wallowing in his own Blood, and trembling Floridella bath'd in her own tears, ready to sacrifice her Life with her Virginity; Al­manzor presently assails the noble Stranger, whom true Valour and the Justice of his Cause oblig'd to retaliate; here equal Valour bred in both a doubtful hope; Victory hover'd long over their heads, till it descended, and crown'd the righteous Cause, which the rest of Almanzor's Fol­lowers [Page 29] (that came from the next Grove seeing) endeavour to re­venge his Dishonour, by seizing the noble Stranger, and impu­ting Menalca's Death to the wrong'd Horatio.

They bring him to the Prin­ces Palace, where the Seat of Ju­stice was erected, the terror of whose Sword could never wrin­kle the smoothest Brow, since it was guided by the hand of a Princess, the frovvns of whose eyes strook more Astonishment than the fam'd Draco's Laws, tho writ in blood.

She sate in purple Robes on a Throne of Ebony, interlay'd with plates of Silver; which ap­pear'd so mournfully pleasant, [Page 30] that it seem'd to delight those sa­ble Souls whom the pale terrors of approaching Death had pre­possess'd: on each side sate a stern Minister of Fate, an impar­tial Judge, whose different Ha­bits represented the lively Hiero­glyphicks of Mercy and Justice.

Silence commanded, the un­daunted Prisoner was brought forth, whose Looks, in such a low Ebb of Fortune, did disco­ver a Soul fraught with such Virtues as come near the excel­lence of Angels, and such religi­ous hopes and firm confidence, that whom Heaven knew inno­cent it would never fail to re­lieve.

[Page 31]But the Friends of the curs'd Almanzor, and wronged Menal­cas, were so importunate Cla­mourers, that not all his Virtue could protect him; he must fall an innocent Sacrifice, to attone for no other Crime than their in­venom'd hate.

An ominous silence presently struck the pitying Court, just before the fatal Sentence was pronounc'd, whilst the Royal Eromena strove to stifle her Tears with her P [...]ssion; it was then that the unseen Engine of myste­rious Love first mov'd within her; 'twas first infus'd in the Em­brio, which soon form'd a divine Idea subsisting in the highest sphear of harmonious Nature.

[Page 32]Now the Noble Horatio stands on the Precipice of Fate, and with an equal calm Mind em­braces his Destiny. No disor­derly fears ruffled his Fancy, nor domestick Wars rag'd within him; sometimes he gaz'd on the majestick Beauty of the Royal Princess, as an Emblem of great­er glories than ever Earth afford­ed, whilst Reason guarded his Innocence, which controul'd all ignoble Passions, and made Chri­stian Fortitude and a Roman Va­lour kiss each other.

The Judges having pronoun­ced the fatal Sentence, the un­daunted Prisoner is presently hurried from the Bar, when be­fore the fair Princess was depart­ed, [Page 33] Thersander, in obedience to the Royal Mandate, comes to Court, and understanding the imminent danger of the distress'd Horatio, gives Eromena a full Re­lation how he happen'd to meet him, and therefore, on his knees, intreats her to let Mercy triumph over her Justice, till Truth might be made more apparent by a clearer Inquisition: the Princess, who was much more forward to pardon than he to beg, was easily won to be his pitying Me­diatrix, and immediately pro­cur'd a Reprieve for three days, notwithstanding the severe Cla­mours of his implacable Ene­mies.

[Page 34]Two of the three days were quite expir'd e're Heaven sent the happy means of Delivery, by the injur'd Floridella, to whose Ears Fame had brought the amazing Tidings of Horatio's Danger; she comes to Court with an haste in her looks, which imported some­what extraordinary, and flies to Eromena, and tells her the tragick Story of Almanzor's Villany, and her happy Delivery by that con­demn'd unfortunate Stranger.

The surprizing Story being known to the whole Court, soon became the Object of Wonder and Admiration: now it was that Truth and Innocence smelt sweet and grateful in the Nostrils of all; now a sudden Joy seiz'd [Page 35] the vvondring Princess, to hear hovv lovely Valour and Inno­cence appear'd in the despairing Stranger: the Scene of Fate vvas novv chang'd, the Chains and Fetters of a loathsome Prison are novv metamorphosed to the ra­vishing pleasures of a Royal Pa­lace.

The Spartan Prince, vvho had a Soul fill'd vvith Love and Gra­titude, vvhere he savv Desert, re­flecting on the horrid Attempt of the lustful Almanzor, by his Banishment made Vertue and Innocence appear more illustri­ous in the Noble Horatio; and as a Revvard and Honour due to his Valour, made him Commander of his Royal Daughter's Guard.

[Page 36]And now it was that the Di­vine Eromena began to place a se­cret Love, and a private Adorati­on in every Action he performs; in every thing he does she be­holds a shining Majesty beneath a Cloud, or as Books wherein Heaven displays its sacred Ora­cles, in unknown and illegible Characters: her flames were not such as are kindled in every vul­gar Breast, but the bright Stars of her Love sate inthron'd so high, and shone so pure and spotless, that none but one en­dued with such Divine Beauty, could be endued with the like

On the contrary, her Actions in his sight appear'd like her form all heavenly and glorious; eve­ry [Page 37] Gesture carried a shining Ma­jesty within it; and it would not be poetical to imagine that she was some She-Deity, disguis'd with Mortality, that forsook the chrystal Arch to converse with Mankind.

Her free Soul, disrob'd of all lovv and terrestrial Thoughts, aim'd at nothing now but the im­perial Crown of mighty Love, whilst she, striving to repair the wakeful ruines of the Day with­in her Bed, a Dream, ominous and prophetick, lay long hover­ing on the Wings of her Fancy, which discover'd a bright Beam of pure Divinity, vvhose Rays so far transcended those of hu­mane Reason, as the vast masse [Page 38] of Eternity doth a day or a year.

She beholds a City pav'd all with Adamant, fram'd to sur­vive the universal Conflagration, and out-live Doomsday, inha­bited by none but our good Ge­nius's, plac'd there to govern all our Actions, as a Medium be­twixt us and Eternity.

On each side of this large Stru­cture was placed a Gate, between which was a Labyrinth, in whose Meanders the Vanities of Life sate attempting to stay the pale Harbingers of Death, but in vain; for, the impartial Ty­rant conveys all down a dark Hill, at the foot of which runs a dismal Lake. On the black surface of the Water lye an infinite mul­titude [Page 39] of Boats fill'd with Passen­gers, whose pale, meager Aspects discover to the trembling Specta­tors that there's no Age nor De­grees of Mankind can be exempt­ed from that powerful Tyranny.

A Tide, which never shall know a Reflux, conveys each Passenger to a gloomy Strand, circled with Obscurity, where Eternity reigns, and swallows up the finite terms of Days and Years.

The Princess having seen the various Scenes of Life, turns aside, and on a high Rock be­holds the house of Fate; in it was a Quadrangle, and within that a Triangle, and both these encompast with a Circle; this [Page 40] was its form, but what its matter was is too dangerous to enquire, but is left for us and our Posteri­ty to admire: in every Corner stands a Tower, where inhabit the impartial, unrepenting Par­cae; the first she cast her eyes on was Clotho, the kindest of the three, who chooses out the Seeds of Life from immaterial Essences, and disposes them to a Wool for her Sister Lachesis to spin, Myri­ads of Souls lye swarming about her shivering, naked, and with­out the frail covering of flesh, which by degrees ripens Man­kind for his misery when he first enters on the stage of Life.

The next she beheld was the Tower of Lachesis, whose swift [Page 41] Fingers draw the mysterious threds of Life in several lengths; some she extends to the weary Beds of decrepid Age, whilst others are broke off in Infancy, before they know what 'tis to live.

Some she saw destin'd to the mourning Robes of heavy Affli­ctions, whilst purple Pleasures, gawdy Plumes, and glittering Trifles, were the lot of others; but among all, there vvas no one thread altogether free from the knots of Care; even Crowns sit heavy on the heads of Princes, and the glorious Titles of a far fetch'd Nobility are very ponde­rous, though honourable Bur­dens.

[Page 42]Next to this was plac'd the dark Abyss of dismal Atropos: Here Death and Horror sate on their gloomy Thrones; every Room was fill'd vvith loud Groans, and the sad sight of pale, grim Ghosts: this vvas the last Stage, at vvhich, all, sooner or later, shall be forc'd to ar­rive.

Above all these vvas erected the lofty Pyramid of Fame, vvhich vvas fill'd vvith the em­pty Sounds and big svvelling Names of those vvhose threds of Life the Destinies pleas'd to vveave in a finer Loom: here all the Whimseys of Report fly on feeble Wings, vvhich not being able longer to support them, stick [Page 43] on the slimy Wall, till the curi­ous Antiquary causes them to live in monuments of Paper, in whose Records they are still pre­serv'd to be the various Censures of succeeding Generations.

Next she beheld the happy, peaceful Mansion of the Poets, only rich in Fancy, (as if that Poverty and Poetry, like Democri­tus's Twins, were inseparable) here the blest Spirits of the in­comparable Johnson and Cowley, reap the plentiful Harvest of all their Labours, and are framing ever verdant Lawrels to crown their own never-dying Dust. Now they sing somewhat more lofty and sublime, and they leave the more low Theams of Wars [Page 44] and Men to write Odes and An­thems fit only for the tongues of Angels.

Beneath them were plac'd the Historians, whose long-liv'd Works have erected for them so high and firm a Monument of Fame, as neither Men nor Eter­nity it self shall ever demolish.

All which, the Genius of the Princes ran over with an heedless Haste, untill obstructed by a more mysterious Vision that fix'd her wandring Fancy.

A Light, bright as the Sun, directs her where she beholds the better Genius of Sicilia, mounted on a stately Throne, whose proud State was supported by three noble Knights, who equal­ly [Page 45] aim'd at the Royal Seat; vvhich since they could not at­tain to, vvas equally divided 'tvvixt her three fair Daughters: When the divided Throne had fix'd a Diadem on each Angle, the royal Stem that bore her Fa­thers Crovvn, brings to her Vievv its glorious Race of Kings, vvhose Rear vvas led up by her Royal Father. Next came those that bore the honour'd▪ Arms of Epirus, the Royal Train conclu­ding in Zoranza. Next follovv­ed those Princes that had svvay'd the Scepter of Horatio, till stopt by Zoranza, the Diadem drop'd from the hoary Head of Royal Gelon: this rais'd her Admiration to an extraordinary height, but [Page 46] much more when she saw the aged Prince appear again drest in a poor Pilgrims Weed, leading a lovely Boy, in whose innocent Looks she reads the soft Lectures of Pity and Compassion: but while she stood gazing on the sweet Youth, by a sudden and invisible Fate, he seem'd trans­form'd to the Person of the No­ble Horatio: with Astonishment she beheld him, offering the Sa­crifice of his Heart to her fair Idea: there the excess of Joy had rob'd her of her sweet Slumbers, had not a sudden black Cloud of fear obscur'd the glorious dream; presently a dreadful Mist, black as the Vapors of the Stygian flood, fill'd the place with a quick, but [Page 47] horrid Darkness; and to en­crease its terror, 'twas follow'd by loud Claps of Thunder, charged with Volleys of ama­zing Lightning, which gave the Princess light enough to behold the Idea of Horatio groveling in his Blood; which she no soon­er saw but she ceased to be the Mistress of her Passions, and burst forth into ineffable Shrieks and passionate Invocations. No­thing founded in her Ears but his hollow expiring Groans, which bathed her in a cold Sweat of tears.

But now a second Flash of Lightning, attended with a wild Horror, presented the pale form of her Royal Father; which no [Page 48] sooner vanish'd, but a Troop of Ghosts seem'd to descend from the dark Prison of the cold grave, endeavoured to seize her, and bear her to the gloomy Confines of that sad abode; when just as she appear'd to sink, lo! a re­splendent Cloud bow'd from the fair Arch of Heaven, which dis­covered the Noble Horatio clad in bright Armour, who imme­diately redeemed her from the threatning danger: which done, the horrid Darkness vanish'd, and the welcome Sun of glorious Comfort, display'd its Beams, by whose Light she beholds a Throne somewhat resembling the former, but far more rich and stately, on which the good [Page 49] Genius's (ministring Angels) plac'd her and her lov'd Horatio; in which extasie of Joy she a­wakes, and with a pleasing Rap­ture descants on the particulars of her Dream; the memory of which shall live so long within her thoughts, untill Fate fulfill those illegible Mysteries of the dark Predictions.

Soon as the Morning dawn'd, the Princess rose, and immedi­ately withdrew from all bur­thensome Society to improve her Joy in the private shadows of a silent Grove; in which pleasing and delightful task whilst her Fancy was enrich'd by her Me­mory, Horatio enters with so great an haste, as discover'd some [Page 50] great diligence to some supream Commander; but when he arriv'd so near as to discern how private­ly she had retir'd, a reverend fear stops his progress, lest so sudden an Intrusion might disturb her Passions, which now lay at An­chor in a safe Haven of serene Thoughts: He stays so long till her Commands made him enter; on his Knees he presents her with a Packet from her Royal Father, the Contents of which (if it be possible that Love can groan un­der a greater Curse than Despe­ration) made her Sufferings in­finitely more intollerable than the pencil of Fear could repre­sent them: the Stile was such, as that it did not altogether com­mand [Page 51] nor intreat, but only de­clare his Royal Will and Plea­sure, and the paternal Affection he bore to the safety of the King­dom, which could no otherwise be confirm'd but in an affinity with the Prince of Lacedaemon, the splendour of whose Name stood exalted on the highest pyramid of Honour: the neighbour Coun­tries have bow'd their servile Necks beneath his Sword, and now humbly offers both it and them at her Royal Feet; but too late did that second Mars bend his Forces to storm that fair Vir­gin Citadell, which she design'd to surrender to a more lovely and powerful Commander.

[Page 52]Long her confus'd thoughts hover'd between fear and passi­on; her denial to her Royal Father must of Necessity incur his Displeasure; but to run coun­ter to the Current of her own Love, would inevitably plunge her in the Ocean of Misery, and make her commence her Hell here by depriving her of her Heaven, her lov'd Horatio.

Of all the Lords of the Court, Horatio was by the King thought the best and fittest to go this Em­bassy to the Prince of Lacedaemon: You cannot imagine with what Reluctancy and Grief the unhap­py Horatio receiv'd his Order; but yet he resolv'd neither to prove disloyal to his Prince, nor [Page 53] a delinquent to his Love; he strove what in him lay to defer the Prince's Intentions; and pre­tending himself unworthy of the Honour he was pleas'd to confer on him, when many of a much higher Rank were disregarded. But this did not in the least divert the Intentions of his Royal Ma­ster; he thought him too worthy to bestow it on any other, and that the Words he had spoken were only the effects of his Mo­desty.

But Love, Almighty-Love, made him thus struggle with his Duty: now he must go, and be expos'd to the Hazards of the Ocean, and at last sollicite ano­ther to be made miserable him­self.

[Page 54]But when the sweet Eromena knew this, that the only person she ador'd and lov'd was com­manded to be her unhappy Sol­licitor, and that no means ima­ginable could hinder or prevent it, she retir'd into the secret'st Arbour of the Garden, near which the perplexed Horatio re­treated a little before to give some Vent to his Passions, and pass an hour away in condoling his Misfortunes, and the mischie­vous Honour conferred upon him▪ the Princess came too for the same Intent; and having seated her self in a very melan­choly posture, began to recollect what fatal Consequence and Ef­fects might attend their Separa­tion.

[Page 55]She was ever Mistress and Empress of her Passions till this Hour: never before now did she give Love the Reins, and vent her sorrowful Passions in such la­mentable Tones: 'tis impossible to express what Raptures she breathed forth, how her very Soul went out with her Words, and were both drown'd in their own Tears. Ah, Cruel Father! (said the languishing Princess) thus to rob me of the only Object of my Pleasure and Delight. My only Heaven upon Earth is in the Sight and Enjoyment of my dear Horatio; and my future Heaven would not be Hea­ven entire without him too. O Plea­sures! Oh majestick Royalty! fare­wel, since he must go without whom all [Page 56] the Pleasures and Pomps of Courts are dull and insipid. I ever before ac­counted Love but the blind Deity of a vulgar Error; but I find now, That the Voice of Mankind is the Voice of Heaven. No, Lacedaemonian! wert thou the Emperour, nay, God of the Universe, that had'st more Charms than Subjects, thou would'st never be capable in the least to vie with my poor lov'd Horatio. 'Tis true, he is a Prince born high, fitted for Greatness, and created for Command; a Soul, as great as ever y [...]t inform'd an humane Body: yet, were he the poorest Subject, had he the same Vertues, by all the Powers above I should still have the same Love.

Horatio (who had before ab­sconded himself in an adjoyning [Page 57] Arbor) with astonishment heard the passionate discoveries of the languishing Princess. She never discover'd her Amour to him be­fore but only in speaking Sighs, and the pleasing Rhetorick of ex­traordinary Looks: but now he heard the surprizing Story from her own Lips, a sudden startling Joy presently seiz'd him, but 'twas soon converted into a more startling Grief, because he was so soon to leave her: No, My ▪ Eromena, before, I viewed thee with eyes of Wonder and Astonishment, (Burst forth Horatio in an extasie) and still I think thee the very Phoenix of Nature: Never was Sparta 'ere now blest with so great a prodigy of Vir­tue. With such an abrupt rhap­sody [Page 58] of Words the transported Horatio presently discover'd him­self; and presently a shower of Blushes fell upon her fair Cheeks: Ah! Horatio (said she) what curst Fate has hitherto attend­ed us? What cross Stars shone at our Births, and had so ill an Influ­ence upon both our Lives? I know not what of us is registred in the Book of Fate; but sure I am, (if my late Dream be true) the Gods have yet some greater Happiness in store for us. Horatio was as in­quisitive as his Place and Con­dition would permit him, to know what it was. She who could deny nothing in honour to one whom she so dearly loved, gave a true Relation of [Page 59] her mysterious Dream. With Wonder he heard so strange a Story, and gathered very good Omens from its strange Conclu­sion. But still the fatal Worm gnaw'd within 'em both: Ho­ratio's Departure was the Sting within 'em: he only expected the pleasure of his Prince when to depart; which not long af­ter was brought to his Apart­ment by a Messenger, to have time of Preparation for three Days; in which space, he re­ceiv'd Orders and Dispatches from his Royal Master for the Management of his Affair.

The time was come, when the mournful Horatio took his leave of the King and Court to set Sail for Lacedaemon.

[Page 60]But above all, the mutual Sighs and passionate Expressions of the Royal Lovers, were inex­pressible: Rivers of Tears fell from her fair eyes; Grief, ineffa­ble Grief, only permitted her to bid him adiew. Never a sinful Soul parted from a Body vvith more heavy Pangs and irresista­ble Reluctancy than these tvvo almost despairing Lovers: all her Time and Thoughts vvere taken up and employ'd in Pray­ers to Heaven for his safe Arri­val; nor vvas it in the least deaf or frovvard; the Rhetorick of her prevailing Oratory caus'd the kind Gods to convey him to his desir'd Port in tvvo days. He [Page 61] vvas very nobly and magnifi­cently conducted by the choice of all the Lacedaemonian Nobility to the Princes Palace, vvhere vvhen he came, he found all the Court in a profound melan­choly: a Cloud of Grief had dravvn its fable Aspect over all their Faces. He vvonder'd at first vvhat it meant, but vvas soon acquainted by the Prince's Ministers, that their Royal Ma­ster lay very sick of a very dan­gerous Disease, and that there vvas very little Room left for of his Recovery.

HORATIO immediately thought of the Royal Princess's Dream, and began impati­ently to reflect on its Con­clusion; [Page 62] when a Messenger the next Morning came to his Lodg­ing, and acquainted him of the Death of the Lacedaemonian Prince: Horatio presently prepar'd to condole the loss of the Court in the Death of their Master: here the Fates prov'd very pro­pitious to his Love; now he was assur'd that the Dream was more than humane, and not the vain Chimaera's of a troubled Fancy: he saw now, That even Dreams likewise are from above, and that Fate intended some extraor­dinary Revolution to make him happy by the Death of his too potent and formidable Rival.

Presently he dispatches away Letters to the King his Master, [Page 63] to give him advice of the fru­stration of his Embassy by the Prince's Death. This News was very surprizing to the King, who immediately thereupon dispatcht Orders for his coming home. This likewise was soon known to the Royal Princess, who was now altogether so much transported with Joy, as she was before with grief. Eve­ry minute with Impatience she expected her wish'd Horatio: all her Thoughts ran on him; his Idea was always in her Fancy, as the only Object she ador'd and lov'd. He on the other side was no less ravished with the plea­sing Remembrance of his former Misfortunes, and the eager ex­pectation [Page 64] of the Society▪ and Converse of his Soul's Darling, the admir'd Eromena.

No sooner had he received his Orders, but impatient of de­lay, he summons all his Retinue on Board, and vvith prosperous Sails in fevv days arriv'd at his vvisht for Haven. Novv Love once more resum'd it's proper Seat and Throne: all the Facul­ties of his Soul were now em­ploy'd in its sublime Mysteries: nothing but the lov'd Society of his dear Eromena could content him; which he did not long securely enjoy, before some, too maliciously inquisitive into their Amours, envy'd their hap­piness, and discover'd the whole [Page 65] Intrigue, and represented it too obscure and odious in the eyes of the King: at first he seem'd ve­ry averse to every of the least In­timation of it; but then recol­lecting of what a noble and an­tique Extraction Horatio was, and how much he had deserv'd for his signal Services, began to be more calm and serene.

Now the brave Horatio be­came a greater Favourite than ever, though the Princess for a while dissembled her Passion from the eyes of the Court; yet the King, to make him the more illustrious, still caress'd him with new Favours, and honour'd him with fresh Titles and new bud­ding Glories. All the eyes of [Page 66] the Court were now set on him; they all knew his Worth, but wonder'd from what Source this Stream and Deluge of Honours might flow: they thought that this sudden Exaltation on the Wheel of Fortune was only to give him the greater Fall, and render his Ruine the more plain and obvious. They little con­sider'd that the Gods sell nothing to Men but only for Labour and Desert: and how great the Me­rits of Horatio were, his Royal Master sufficiently knew, and that all the Honours he could confer on him would not be in the least answerable, unless the inestimable Gift of his Royal Daughter.

[Page 67]One day seeing her all alone, and pensive, he thus accosts her; My dear Eromena, I have often wondred that in the midst of a Pa­lace, so fully fraught with Delights, and so great a Croud of Pleasures, (where you are as much Mistress as I Master) you should so far abandon your Royal self, as wholly to be given up to Grief and Cares. This Po­sture, in this Place, must needs be much taken notice of; and I know not what cause you might have for such a Behaviour. You know, all the Pomp and Splendour of the Court attend your Beck, and that all the Laws of Na­ture constrain me (since my Life is bound up in yours) to give you all the Pleasures and Satisfaction imagina­ble.

[Page 68] You need not, Sir, (said she) much admire at my Retiredness, (since the best of Princes are not free from the censorious Tongues of their Infe­riours) I suppose Sir, (but I blush in the Relation) that the inquisitive Eyes, and the more envious Tongues of some, have represented the inno­cent, harmless Friendship of Horatio and Me in very dark and odious Characters. 'Tis true, Sir, I have seen such matchless Worth in that brave Stranger, that I cannot only love but admire him.

As for his Merits (replied the Prince) I cannot in the least detract from them; but, you know that you are the only Heir to my Crown and Dignity, and that the only means to preserve them is by an Alliance with some foreign Prince.

[Page 69] Oh Sir! (said she) is it possi­ble to choose a stronger Prop for a Crown than the brave Horatio? Though he be but a Stranger at our Court, yet his Vertues deserve not to be a Stranger to a Crown. Pardon, Sir, the Excursions of my Passion, since I can no longer hide it: all the Happiness and Felicity I desire in this Life, is, that Horatio might be the sole Partner and Companion of it.

The Prince knowing the se­veral Inconveniencies that at­tend forc'd Marriage, and still ruminating on the Merits of the brave Horatio, confirmed her Choice, and praised her Constancy; and as soon as ever the Tide of Business that he was then cumber'd with, was [Page] abated, he gave their Loves the wish'd-for Exit; where we now leave them; the Wonder and Glory of the present, and the best Example for future Ages to imitate.



THere is lately published a Satyr, called Massinello, against the Association, and the Guild-Hall Riot. in Quarto.

Also, a Pindaric Ode on the Martyrdom of King Charles I. By the same Author.

In the Press there is an emiment Treatise, in Latin, concerning Free Will, in Opposition to the Calvinists against Predestination: which will be shortly published with the Author's Name.

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