The Ephesian MATRON.

A Certain Merchants Daughter of Ephe­sus, having been long gazed upon by the admiring Youths of that po­pulous and wealthy City, and sought in marriage by many, whose ample Fortunes encouraged them to hope for success, answerable to their desires, (which could not be but just and commendable, since fixed up­on an Object, whom an incomparable Beauty, an ingenious Soul, vertuous Education, and that usual attendant of all these, an honourable Fame, had con­spired to make an extraordinary Person) This Virgin, I say, was at length espous­ed to a young Gentleman, in whom no­thing was wanting that could be requi­red, [Page 2] to make him accomplisht and a­miable, especially in her eye, who lo­ved him with equal ardours; and thought of no felicity, but in his mu­tual affections and society. So that all men (his envious Rivals only except­ed) expected the perfection of mortal happiness to arise from so rare a union.

But, observe unconstancy of human felicity; This pair of Turtles had not long enjoyed the pleasures of each o­thers conversation, when Fate (seldom long propitious to Lovers) steps in, and divides them, by the eternal divorce of death; translating the Husband into a state of more durable delights, and leaving the poor widdowed Lady in the arms of a distracting grief, too ex­cessive to fall under the description of the most tragical Pen; and indeed so violent, as would soon have sufficed to the destruction of so delicate and ten­der a Nature, as hers was, had not her resolution to see her dearest All (so she called him) laid into his Tomb, with such Funeral Pomp, and solemn Obsequies, as were agreeable both to his quality, and her sorrow; somewhat conduced to her preservation. Which yet was but an accidental preservative, [Page 3] a [...]d such, whose effect she could not directly aim at; all the faculties of her wounded soul being wholly taken up with the image of her loss; and ex­cluding all light of comfort, but those weak and faint glimpses that arose in her darksome imagination, from her hopes to make haste and overtake him, who was gone before.

But alas! I speak much to the dimi­nution of her fidelity, when I call them Hopes; they wer [...] advanced to full Re­solutions, and those made unalterable, by the sanction of a solemn vow, to out­do the malice of death; and by a spee­dy re-union of her spirit with his, in the Elyzium, to regain that content in the other World, which the cruelty of the gods had ravisht from her in this. And according to this too rigorous Vow, she refuseth all nourishment, admitting nothing into her mouth but the cold air, and tears uncessantly distilling from her once bright and sparkling, but now dim and blubber'd eyes; and this, not­withstanding the importunities of her Parents and Friends on one side, and the necessities of Nature on the other, urging her to commiserate and relieve her self. In this sad condition she con­tinued [Page 4] three whole days and nights, a [...] ­horring all objects but what her grie [...] presented, and keeping her con [...]ed remembrance perpetually upon [...]he Rack, to afford her the images of he [...] past felicities, that might aggravate the resentments of her present misery: Which yet being (as she thought) in­sufficient to exalt her sorrows to th [...] height of destroying her, she privately conveys her self in [...]o the Vault, whe [...] the remains of her Husband had been newly laid, and there sits down upon the damp earth, with her eyes fixt upon his Coffin, lest her thoughts might chance to wander from their proper object▪

[Page 5]This (you'l say) was a rare demon­str [...]ion of a Woman's constancy, and ought not to be past over without ad­miration, and an acknowledgement, that this vertuous Matron well deserved to wear a Garland, in that Troop of Heroi [...]al Wives, who scorning to sur­vive their better part, their Husbands, are honoured by posterity, as examples of singular faith, and conjugal amity. And I shall also ing [...]nuously confess, that her love must needs be great, which transported her to so generous a pitch of sorrow, and bravery of resolution. I presume moreover, that your pity is already risen to that height, that are co [...]cerned in her danger; and that you would most gladly run into the Vault, [...]o save her from a death so cruel, so imi­nent. But alas, she is resolved upon it, and your humanity would but degene­rate into a prolongation of her afflicti­ons. For, in life she knew no content, but in the society of her Love, whose mortal part was now in the cold fetters of an everlasting sleep; and therefore remains holy uncapable of any the least consolation, unless from this, that she may be hastned in her journey, to meet and embrace his beloved Ghost. [Page 6] If therefore your commiseration will do any thing towards her comfort and re­pose, pray exercise it in killing her, and let the kindness of your sword suddain­ly prevent the lingring tortures of her famine and laments. But I know you are too good-natured to have her die; and but to suppose her▪ after all this, ca­pable of being reconciled to life, were the only way to make her and her whole Sex hate you. What then is to be done in order to her Rescue? Why, have but patience a little, and you shall see how miraculously Fo [...]tune hath contri­ved to gratifie you and other her friends, in her preservatio [...] ▪

It hapned, that on the very same day her Husbands funeral rites were sol [...]m­nized, and his Corps set into the Vault amongst his Ancestors, there was a no­torious malefactor executed, and his body left upon the Gibbet; the better to strike terror into others, and by the example of his infamous punishment, to raise in the hearts of all the specta­tors, a due [...] abomination of the like crimes. And lest any of the Villain's relations or confederates, should take down the mangled Carcass, and con­vey it away to burial privily in the [Page 7] night; Proclamation was made to the contrary, at command of the Magi­strate; and a guard of Soldiers con­signed to watch it, with the penalty of no less than death to such of them, as should through carelesness, drousieness, or absence, be failing in that their duty. Now night being come, the Soldiers thinking one was enough to attend that easie charge, fall to casting lots among themselves, who should undertake it; and the lot falling upon one, of whose vigilancy the rest had no reason to doubt, they all withdrew themselves into a Tavern neer at hand, the better to secure themselves from the cold, and rawness of the night, leaving that one to perform the Duty.

They were no sooner gone, when this Sentinel also, feeling himself pinched by the cold, and confident none would hazard so dear a thing as life, in stealing away the torn carcass of a Rogue, be­thinks himself of shelter and rest: and remembring there was a certain spaci­ous arched Vault (the very same our Mourner had obscured her self in) un­der-neath the Temple, over against which the Gibbet was erected; he re­tires into it, conducted thither, doubt­less [Page 8] by the invisible hand of his good Angel.

Being entred into the mouth of the Vault, his eyes were instantly saluted with the beams of a small and weak light, that shone from the farthest end of it; at sight whereof he was surprized with a suddain fit of horrour, which les­sening by degrees, (as all terrible ob­jects are greatest, at first glance of the eye upon them) his curiosity soon got the upper hand of his fear, and carrieth him nearer and nearer, till at length by the help of that glimmering Taper, which yet had not wholly overcome the gloomy darkness of that dismal place, he could perceive something re­sembling a Woman, in a mournful dress, but with a countenance far more mourn­ful, sitting on the ground, with arms enfolded in the posture of extream sor­row, and her head carelesly drooping, as if it were desiro [...]s and ready to fall up­on the Coffin placed at her feet. Ha­ving a while stood wondring at this strange and doleful spectacle, and con­sidering with himself, that it could not be a meer Apparition; all those stories of Ghosts, Spectres, and Devils in hu­mane shape, being but the politick Fi­ctions [Page] of Rulers and Priests, to keep the vulgar honest in the dark, and by fear to deter such from vice, who would not pursue vertue meerly▪ for love of it: he banisheth all apprehensions of ter­rour, and boldly advanceth to the Ta­per. The impediment of distance, which before permitted him but an obscure and imperfect sight of what his wonder had directed him unto, now removed; the soldier takes a full view of the distressed Lady, and soon finds his Sense had not been deluded by a phantasm, and that she was a real woman, as at first glance he had apprehended her to be. Nor could the Ecclipse of her sorrow and dejection hinder, but he might ea­sily discern a certain charming lustre ir­radiating the rare features of her face, together with an awful and majestick sweetness, such as is wont to strike re­spect and secret adoration into the hearts of the beholders; and being the separable adjunct of singular beauty, cannot be concealed by the most alter­ing disguise of the extreamest passion. Here the Divinity of her form surprizing his Soul, on one side; and the prodigi­ous equ [...]page he saw her in distracting it, on the other: the man was over­whelmed [Page 10] with amazement, and want­ed not much of becoming a statue. But, the light of his reason by little and little breaking through those clouds, and di [...]persing them, he resumes his cou­rage and resolves to speak to her. Which as he was about to do, it chan­ced, that lifting up her wearied head, and opening the curtains of her eyes, (which till then had remained let down) to give them some ease by change of posture, she percived a Man or Gho [...]t (for as yet she could not distinguish) standing before her.

She startled a little at the unexpected sight, but being wholly intent upon her sorrow, and strongly possessed with a conceit, that the worst of evils that her nature was capable of, had already be­fallen [Page 11] her; that if he were a Ghost, he could have no other errand to her, but to [...]nvite and hasten her to the place, whither her dearest Mate was gone be­fore; and if a Man, he could not be so void of humanity, as to disturb the qui­et of her innocent grief. These re­flections (I say) quickly recomposed her, so that she was able to demand an account of him of his being there. Which she did in this manner.

Friend▪ said she, (and certainly, whatsoe're you are, you can be no o­ther to me▪ who can have no enemy but life) would you any thing with me? If so, pray speak it freely; I am not afraid to hear the worst tidings you can bring. Fate hath shot the most bloody and mortal of all its Arrows into me already, and all that are to follow will be but favours. My misery, though great, hath yet this comfort▪ annexed to it▪ that it cannot possibly be greater. Lo, here, (point­ing to the Coffin) here lies my Heart, dead and cold as marble; and if I [...]eem [...]o be alive, it is only because the soul of sorrow annimates me a while, till I have prepared my self to [Page 12] descend a fitting Shade, to attend his, who by this time expects me. But if on [...]y Chance hath brought you hither, why do you not be gone? What wrong have I ever done you, that should make you thus envy me the peace of this solitary room, a place sacred, and pecular only to the dead? And (you know) that for any, but Mourners, to intrude into their Dor­mitories, is a prophanation not e [...]ly expiated. Pray therefore, before you become further guilty, depart, and leave me to accomplish that sacrifice, my Fidelity and Vow oblige me to offer in this place.

To this (delivered with something of anger, and as much vehemence, as the weakness of her half-starved body would permit) the Souldier modestly returns: That no design at least, con­cerning her, but meer adventure, had led him into that place, where he conceived nothing but horrour and unwholesome damps had resided; That the sight of a woman there, at that dead time of the night, alone, and in that strange posture too, was sufficient to excuse his admiration▪ [Page 13] and that to excuse his curiosity, for the satisfaction of which he had ap­proach'd her. That if therein he had, contrary to his intent, been an occa­sion of disturbance to her, in the per­formance of those dismal Rites, her afflicted imagination had caused her to please her self withal, (what they were, he knew not) he was ready to aske her pardon for that his misfor­tune. And as for any offense to the Manes of those, whose bodies were there deposited, he conceived himself wholly innocent, as comming thither with no such black purpose, as to dis­lodge their Reliques, or violate their Sepulchres. Lastly, that if his pre­sence were ungrateful to her, (to whom he heartily wished a serenity of mind, equal to the sweetness of her person) he was ready to depart, not­withstanding the tenderness of his dis­position made him have some sympa­thy in her afflictions, and urged him to offer her that succour, which he was able to afford. Which yet, he confessed, could not be great, consi­dering the vast disparity betwixt the meanness of his condition, and rude­ness of education, on his part; and the [Page 14] wise counsel, and consolatory argu­ments he found requisite, on hers. However, if his diligence, yea, if his life, might be an [...] way serviceable to her, she should freely command him. And having said thus, he re­mained silent.

Here the Lady somewhat touched with the great humanity and gentle­ness of the M [...]n, whom by his Arms she perceived to be a Soldier, and so had admitted some apprehensions of a re­turn more rough and agreeable to the manners of those of his profession and ranck, was offering to rise up, and dis­miss him with thanks due to his civili­ty; when her macerated and languish­ing body, and her exhausted spirits fail­ing to be obedient to her soul▪ she sunk down [...]n a swoon, and lay speechless and ene [...]vated, cross her Husbands Coffin.

Which the honest Fellow perceiving, and fearing she had exp [...]red her very soul▪ in that last g [...]eat sigh that [...]rake from her breast, at the instant of her [Page 15] fall; he was not a little astonished: but yet he had so much reason left, as hast­ned him to endeavour her recovery, by taking her up in his arms, gently re­clining her he [...]d, and pouring a little Win [...] into her mouth, from a Bottle he had brought with him, wherewith to fortifie himself against the cold and moystness of the weather. This so re­paired her defect of spirits, that her heart and arteries renewing their inter­mitted pulses, she soon came to her self again; but so imperfectly, that though her vitall Organs seemed to perform their offices aright, yet those of volun­tary motion wholly failed in theirs. Which the Souldier observing, and concluding with himself, that the vir­tue of that cordial, which infused into her in a small quantity, had so happily begun his cure, if administ [...]ed in a grea­ter dose, would not fail to finish it; he set the bottle a second time to her mouth and forced her to take in a large draught. The Wine, by reason of its sublety, soon dispersing through her whole body▪ and rec [...]uiting her spirits, (consumed by immoderate grief, and long abstinence) wrought so powerfully upon her, that she now feels her self not [Page 16] only revived, but in some measure also comforted within her, (O! who can sufficiently admire the excellency of this divine Liquor?) and her faculty of mo­ving her self restored; so that, erecting her self upon her legs, she turned to her Physitian, and disposing her eyes and countenance into such an aspect of gentleness and sweetness, as intimated to him, she had no ill resentments of the good offices his charity had done her; without other expression of thankful­ness, she sat down to repose her self up­on the Coffin, the unfrequented place affording no other seat.

The Man encouraged by the happy success of his assistance, and discreetly taking the opportunity of that calm, which he discerned the Wine had brought upon both her mind & spirits, began with gentle reasons (for Rhetori­cal arguments he had none) to make her sensible of the extream need she was in of some speedy corporal refection: And not being so ceremonious, as to stay and expect her answer, he instantly o­pens his Knapsack, and produceth such cold and homely Viands, as he, in clean­ly manner had laid therein, for his own provision: These he tenders to her, in [Page 17] the most humble and decent posture, the incommodities of the time and place would admit of; intreating her, in com­miseration of her self, to second the good effect of the Wine, with a bit or two of solid meat; and to dispense with the coorseness both of his diet and service, her safety depending chiefly upon a speedy refreshment, and at the present he was destitute of better ac­commodation.

Now, whether we ought to ascribe it to the sole hand of Fate, which laughs at the vanity of mens resolutions, and by turning our hearts like rivers of wa­ter, delights to convince us, How little that power is, we arrogant Mortals think we have over our selves. Or, to the be­nigne and sweetning efficacy of the Wine, which (doubtless) is the most soveraign and present Antidote in Na­ture against excess of sorrow: Or, to the force of the Souldiers Perswasions, which, though not delivered with the advantage of smooth and courtly lan­guage, appear to have been strong and prevalent: Or, to the secret strokes of Love, (as Philosophers call them) which being observed alwaies to wound deepest upon the sodain, and as often [Page 18] in the depth of advers [...]ry, as in the height of ease and prosperity, might (for ought we know) be, by the wanton god, i [...]flicted upon the Ladie's heart, and so wonderfully recompose all the confusions and disorders of her soul, as at that very instant to tune all her facul­ties once more to the key of the most sweet and harmonious of all our affe [...]ti­ons. I say, to which of all these pro­bable causes, (or to the conspiracie of them all together) the Miracle is to be imputed, I confess, I cannot determine; and therefore willingly resigne that nice enquiry to those Sages, who pretend to understand the secrets of Women's hearts. But, so it fell out, that our Matron being now able to command a Truce to her sorrow, cheerfully addres­sed her self to the victuals set before her, and did eat moderately thereof: in the quiet and pleasantness of her looks, sweetly betraying that inward agreableness and delight Nature be­came sensible of, in that supply which had been too long denyed her.

This our Man of War, (who, it seems by the story, was no fool) perceiving, and understanding withall, that some s [...]asonable relief from reason and wise [Page 19] counsel was as requisite, to the re-com­posure of her disordered mind, as his me [...]t and drink had been, to the instau­ration of her infeebled body; he be­thought himself what to say, that might conduce to the mitigation of her violent sorrow. And, though he were no Philosopher, nor Orator, his head not being altogether so well furnished with arguments of consolation, as his Scrip and Bottle had been with Provi­sion; yet he had so competent a share of the light of Nature, (which, as ma­ny wise men hold, shineth alwaies clea­rest in the darkness of necessity, and sudden occasions) as directed him bluntly to tell her, That albeit mode­rate humiliation of the body, and con­tristation of spirit, upon the decease of dear friends and relations, were not to be disallowed, as being the effects of that love and [...]espect we bore them in our lives and pregnant testimonies of natural affection, without which, Man degenerateth into the savageness of beasts: yet an intemperate sorrow, and afflicting our selves beyond measure, was not only unreasonable, but also unnatu­ral; unreasonable, in that it doth as little avail to the good or benefit of the [Page 20] dead, as to the recalling them to life again; they being in a state, which ad­mits of no commerce with, or concern­ment for the survivors. Unnatural, in that it impaireth the health of the bo­dy, and beclouds the brightness of the understanding, both which are the chiefest treasures of our lives, and every man is bound by the Law of Nature, to endeavour their preservation, as much as in him lies. He added, That if she had suffered her passion to trans­port her to any such extravagance, as an intent to destroy [...]er self, (as she had seemed to intimate, both by her ex­pressions and deportment in that place, which of it self appeared a fit Scene whereon to act such a Tragedy) she ought with the soonest to retract it. For the greatest crime man could commit, was Murder; and of all Murders, the most detestable was self-Homicide, which the Creator did so abominate, as that he Had engraven upon our very Nature, the Law of self-preservation, as if on purpose to prevent it. And should Heaven be so mercifull, as to forgive it, (which was dangerous to presume) yet certainly the Ghost of her Husband would not; since, if he loved [Page 21] her while alive, he could not be plea­sed with any violence she should offer to her self, but would rather abhor the society of so great a Criminal, among the Shades; at least, if Souls departed hence have any sense or cognizance of the actions of Mortals upon Earth.

The pious Matron hearing this, could not refrain from interrupting her coun­sellor, but replied; That she must ac­knowledge the truth and weight of his discourses; but yet, (and then she sigh­ed) she had lost such a Jewel of a Hus­band, as never woman lost. And there­fore, if her grief were violent and in­vincible, she deserved rather pity and excuse, than reprehension and condem­nation, both from gods and men. And more she would have said, but that a fresh flood of tears running down her cheeks, robbed her lips of the freedom of their motion.

The Souldier seeing this, and fearing a relapse, had immediate recourse to the Antidote of the Bottle, of whose cordial juice he had so admirable expe­rience: and without more ado, he holds up her head with one hand, while with the other he drencheth her with a round dose of the remaning liquor: And [Page 22] she had no sooner felt the warmth and vigour of it in her stomach, but the fountains of her tears were instantly sealed up, her forehead smoothed, and all her face reduced to its native sweet­ness: Nay more, this last draught wrought so divinely, that her mind al­so seemed perfectly restored to its an­tient mildness and tranquility▪ and she became the most affable, compleasant, and chearfull creature in the world, in­deed as if a new Soul had been infused into her. This great change considered, who can but fall into a rapture, in think­ing of the virtue of Wine, or forbear to repeat father Sancho's prayer, that Pro­vidence would never suffer him to want good store of that celestial Nectar. But, our argument is yet sad, and it imports us to be more serious. For,

Here some witty Disciple of Epicu­rus (arresting us in the middle of our Narration) may take advantage to dis­parage the excellency and immortallity of that noble essence, the reasonable Soul of man; and from the example of the soveraign operation of the Wine upon this deplorable Lady, thus argue a­gainst it.

If our inclinations and wills be so [Page 23] neerly dependent upon the humours and temperament of our bodies, as to be, in a manner, the pure and natural consequents or results from them; and that our humours and temperament be so easily and soon variable, according to the various qualities of meats and drinks received into our stomachs; both which seem verified in the instance of this Ephesian Woman, who by the generous quality of the Wine, and nu­tritive juice of the Meat, was, as it were, in a moment altered in her whole frame; of a highly discontented and desperate wretch, becomming a quiet, tractable, and good humour'd creature, quitting her morosity and contumacy in a mur­derous resolution, for frank affability, yieldingness, and alacrity; Why should not men believe, with his Master Epi­curus, that the Soul is nothing else but a certain composition or contexture of subtle Atoms, in such manner figured and disposed, and natively endowed with such activity, as to animate the body, and actuate all the members and organs of it; or, with Galen, that the Soul is but the Harmony of Elements, concurring in the composition of the body, at first, and in the same tenour [Page 24] continued afterward during life, by sup­plies of the most subtle and refined parts of our nourishment? Especially, if they reflect upon the admirable effects of Wine, which hath the power to alter, not only the temperam [...]nt of the body, but even that of the mind also; subdu­ing the most refractory and unbridled of all our passions, and raising up others as violent in their room; in a word, so forcibly turning the needle of our affe­ctions and inclinations from one ex­treme to another, and hurring them from point to point round the whole Compass, as if it were it self a soul; at least, as it if had the soveraignty over the best of souls.

Now if any such weak and prevari­cating Epicurean shall cast this stum­bling-block in our way; though we are loth to leave the Lady, now she is in so go [...]d a humour, yet the honour we owe to that divine substance, which he endeavours thus vilely to abase, ob­ligeth us to digress a while, and vouch­safe him a short refutation.

Let him know therefore, that every individual man hath two distinct Souls, the one Rational, or Intellectual, and Incorruptible, as being of divine Origi­nal, [Page 25] the breath of the Creator: The o­ther only Sensitive, produced from the wombs of Elements; common also to brute Animals, and therefore capable of dissolution. This latter Soul, (or, more properly, Spirit) is the common Vinculum, Cement, or Tye, betwixt the celestial and incorporeal nature, of the reasonable Soul, and the terrestriall and corporeal nature of the Body: It is also the immediate organ or instru­ment, by which the nobler Soul inform­eth and acteth in the organs of the Bo­dy. Now, though we deny not, but the rational Soul, in respect of this her al­liance with the Body, is in some degree subject to the Laws of Matter; and consequently, that the humours and temperament of the Body, have some influence or power to alter and work upon the mind, especially in weak-min­ded persons, who make no use of the arms of their reason, to encounter and subdue the insurrections and assaults of sensual appetites: Yet cannot we grant, that the impressions which the body makes upon the mind are such, as suf­fice to question either the Immortality, or derogate from the Soveraignty of the Soul over the Body.

[Page 26]Not the Immortality of it; because, as an Infant in the Mothers womb, though sympathising with the Mother in all distempers, accidents, and symp­toms that befall her, during the time of the Child's connexion to her body; is yet capable of being, in his due sea­son, separated from her, and emanci­pated from his first state of compatibi­lity into another of single subsistence: So the Rational Soul, though, during its connexion to the Body, subject to all affections and sufferings thereof, is yet nevertheless capable of being se­parated, in due season, from the Body, and surviving it to eternity, in a state of [...]implicity and incompatibility.

Nor the Soveraignty of it over the Body; because, as a Monarch, notwith­standing he hath soveraign and abso­lute power over his Subjects, may sometimes be inclined by the sway of his servants; and yet without either subjection of his Person, or diminution of his power: So the Soul, though sometimes the affections of its subject, the Body, may incline or dispose it to assent and compliance: yet doth not that detract from either the excellency of its nature, or the absoluteness of its dominion over the Body.

[Page 27]Besides, all those mutations of the affections, that arise from the variety of humours, and temperament of the Body, whether caused by Diet, Wine, or otherwise, are most [...]nduely imputed to the Mind, or reasonable Soul it self, whose essence being simple, severeth it from all essential mutations; and in­deed, extend no farther, than the Sen­sitive or the Brain, which is its princi­pal organ: So that as it doth not dero­gate from the skill and ability of an ex­cellent Musitian, that he cannot make good Musick upon an ill and untuneable Instrument; so likewise doth it not from the dignity of the Soul, that it cannot maintain the harmony of its Government, where the Brain is out of tune. And this we think sufficient to evince that the mutual league or al­liance betwixt the Body and Mind is not so inseparable, but the Mind may both continue its Soveraignty, while that league continueth; and also con­tinue its Being, after the same league is dissolved by death.

But if the Adversary shall further urge us to informe him, What kind of [...]ubstance we then conceive the Soul to be, we shall ingeniously confess, We [Page 28] do not understand it. Nor are we a­shamed of that ignorance, forasmuch as the knowledge thereof is to be fetch­ed, not from Reason or Philosophy, but from Revelation Divine. For, see­ing the substance of the Soul was not deduced or extracted in its creation, from Matter, or Elements, as is mani­fest even from the transcendency of its functions and operations: certainly it follows, that the Laws of Matter or Elements, can in no wise comprehend its nature, or lead to the knowledge of its substance: but leaving Philosophy to its proper objects, we must expect it from the inspiration of the same Di­vinity, from whence the substance of it was originally derived. But inspira­tions Divine being very rare, our best way will be to suspend such subtle and Metaphysical Enquiries, till death; which will soon satisfie them, and all other difficulties of that nature. In the mean time, we beg excuse for thus long digressing into so grave and unsutable a Speculation, (which yet we could not well avoid) from our Story, and for holding you upon the rack of suspense, while your good nature makes you im­patient till you are assu [...]ed of the La­die's perfect recovery.

[Page 29]Returning to our Matron, I find my self surprised with more of wonder and amazement, than the Souldier was when he first beheld her. Methinks I perceive certain symptoms in her, which signifie not only a change of hu­mour, but even a perfect metamorpho­sis of her person also; and so strangely is she altered, that did not the continu­ance of her mourning habit (and yet she hath dropt her Veil) together with the circumstances of time and place, assure me to the contrary; seriously I should not easily be perswaded that she is the same woman. She appears now to have so little of the sorrowful Wi­dow in her, that if I might have the li­berty Physiognomists take, of divining by outward signes, I should take her for the most pleased and happy Bride in the world. Her forehead seems not only smoothed, but dilated also to a more graceful largeness, and over-cast with a delicate sanguine Dye. Her eyes sparkling again with luster, yet little more then half open, with their amiable whites turned somewhat upward, un­steady, bedewed with a Ruby moisture, & by stealth casting certain languishing glances (such as are observed only in [Page 30] persons dying, and Lovers in the exta­sie of delight) upon the Souldier. Her lips swelling with a delicious ver-million tincture, and gently trembling; yet still preserving the decorum and sweetness of her mouth. Her cheeks o­ver [...]lowing with pleasing blushes. Her head a little declin [...]ng, as when Modesty hath a sec [...]et conflict with Desire. She is in [...] kind of gentle disquiet, such as accompanieth the impatience of the soul, when it is eager and restless in pur­su [...] of the object, whereon it hath fixed it [...] chief felicity. A temperate and Balmy sweat, extilling from the pores of her snow-white skin, helps to in­crease the kindly warmth of it, arising, doubtless, from a great agitation of her spirits within, and an effusion of them upon the outward parts, together with [...]he vapours of her purest bloud. In a word, I discern in her a concourse of all [...]hose signes, which, as natural and in­separable characters, are proper to great joy and pleasure.

What therefore should I think? To imagine that she, a woman of exempla­ [...]y constancy, of chastity more cold and severe than the Goddess her self, who i [...] said to be guardian of it; of sorrow [Page 31] (as your self can witness) almost unpa­rallel'd and invincible; whose tears are yet scarcely dry, still fitting in a damp and horrid Charnel-house, at the dead time of the night, and upon the Cof­fin of her Dearest All: To imagine (I say) that this Woman should be so soon ingulphed in the delightful transports of a new Love, and that with a Fellow so much a Stranger, so much her Infe­riour: This certainly is not only highly improbable, but unpardonably scanda­lous; and he, doubtless, would have no easie task to secure himself, from being torn in pieces by those of her Sex, who should dare to entertain a thought so much conducing to their disparagement.

On the other side, the causes of sus­picion are strong and manifest; for, if it be true, (as certainly it is) that Na­ture, not contented only to have given Man a tongue, wherewith to express his thoughts, hath also imprinted on hi [...] countenance the images of his most secret passions and intentions; and that upon this ground Philosophers have built that most excellent of all Arts, the Art of Knowing-Man, (the principal part of civil prudence) which [Page 32] teacheth how to dive into the most se­cret recesses, and hidden conceptions of the mind, only by observing the Fi­gures and Characters that her inward motions draw upon the forehead, eyes and other parts of the face: I say, if this be true, we have good reason to suspect▪ that our Matron hath newly felt the power of Love's inevitable Dart, and she now bu [...]ns as extreamly in the fl [...]mes of amorous desires of the Soldi­er, as she was lately f [...]ozen in the ice of so [...]ow for her Husband. Her looks and gestures betray her, and all the Airs of high Content and Pleasu [...]e appearing in her face, will no longer permit me to doubt, but she hath lately tasted, and more then tasted, of that delight, which Lovers are sensible of in the act of Fruition; and which being it self a kind of Extasy, cannot be described, so as to be understood by any but such as feel it, nor those, but when they feel it.

Nor need you longer remain in [...]us­pence: for, behold, she now throws her self into the Soldiers Arms, she em­braceth him, she kisseth him, and with that violence, that greediness, as if she were unsatisfied with the bare [Page 33] touches of his lips, and longed to leave the impression of hers upon them. Nay, she takes no care to shut them, as if that negligent posture were more natural to the freedom of her kindness; or, as if she were in more readiness to receive that soul, she would have him breath into her. Nor doth any thing make her take off her mouth from his, but the impatience to have her eyes so long empty of the images of his form; and when she hath feasted that sense, with giving and receiving some fixt amo­rous looks, (for now they are no longer oblique glances) she instantly returns again to her banquet of kisses, as if the pleasures of her Eye, though high and ravishing among mutual Lovers, were yet inferior to those of the Touch; or, as if the pleasures which each of these excellent senses doth affect the soul with, in such cases, were so great and violent, as that she is not capable of being intent upon both at once, but is forced to apply her self one while to one alone, another while to another, lest being distracted betwixt them, she might lose any whit of what her passi­on tells her, is requisite to consummate the fruition she aims at. In a word, (for [Page 34] we are fallen upon a Subject, whose nature is not to admit of much dis­course) there is nothing of liberty, no­thing of dalliance, nothing of caresses and indearment, which this sportful Lady doth not use, both to make her self grateful and charming to her new Gallant, and to enkindle fresh ardors in him. So that if what we see be not Ve­nus her self, sporting with her beloved Mars; yet, doubtless, it is one of her own daughters, in the heighth of solace with one of his sons. But, here Mo­desty commands us to turn our backs upon this pleasant couple; for, I per­ceive, he hath not yet exhausted all his Amunition, and that, grown more sensible of the Magique of her wanton incitements, he is arming himself for a second encounter, and stands ready to do that Ac [...], which, though the most pleasant and entrancing of all others, cannot yet be, with good manners, named, much less lookt upon in the doing, by strangers. And you, as well as my self, know, how implacably an­gry the Cyprian goddess useth to be, with such immodest curiosities, as dar [...] to prye into the Mysteries of her sacri­fices, which she hath therefore com­manded [Page 35] to be offered in the dark, and only by Couples. Let us, therefore, seasonably avert our yet innocent Eyes, and leave these her new Votaries quiet­ly to finish those Cytherean Rites they are going about: especially since their Zeal is so servent, as not to scruple at the nicety of making the Dead Hus­band's Coffin, the Altar, whereon to kindle and exhale the incense they have brought. And while they are bu­sie at their silent devotions, let us have recourse to the Oracle of Reason, and there consult about the powerful Cause of this great and admirable Change in our Matron, who (you see) is no longer either Mourner, or Widow. ¶▪

To charge this suddain and prodigi­ous Metamorphosis, upon the inhe­rent Mutability and Levity of Womans Nature; though it may have some­what of Philosophy in it, yet cannot have much of wisdom; as importing more Reason, than Safety. For, al­beit, it be well known, that the soft­ness and tenderness of their Constitu­tion is such, as renders them like wax, capable of any impressions, and especi­ally such as correspond with those their [Page 36] inclinations, that Nature hath implant­ed in them as goads to drive them on to­ward that principal End, for which it hath made them: yet, who is so rashly prodigal of his life, as to incense that Revengeful sex, by calling in question that Constancy in affection, which eve­ry Woman so much boasteth of, and is ready to defend even with her blood, and whereof every day produceth so many notable Examples? For my part, truly, notwithstanding I was never so happy, as to be much in the Favour of Ladies; yet will not the honour I bear them, permit me willingly to incurre their displeasure, especially by asserting so scandalous an Heresie: nor will I o­mit any opportunity to demonstrate, that the services I desire to do them, are such as hold exact proportion with the strongest of their Inclinations, and the highest of their Perfections. There is not an Attribute their Excellencies challenge even in their own opinion, (which all allow to be favourable e­nough,) but I am ready to give it them: nor can I doubt the verity and weight of any thing they say, but admire and believe them as Oracles. My Ears can­not so soon drink in their promises, as [Page 37] my Faith swallows them down, for Sa­cr [...]mental and inviolable obligations. If I hear any Lady but say, (though she use no protestations) that she either hath been, or will be constant and firm to her Servant; I am ready instantly to be­lieve and swear, the Heavens them­selves even in their substance are more subject to Alteration, that Nature her self can sooner change her Course, her Laws, and run into the confusion of her primitive Chaos; than she be re­moved from the Object, upon which she hath placed her Love. When any Widow sighs and weeps at the funeral of her Husband; I compassionate the Reality and Profoundness of her Grief, am afraid she should despair, and de­stroy her self; and I sooner expect to see her Husband revived, than her to entertain any the least thought of ad­mitting another into her bed. If I but hear the sad story of some young Vir­gin deprived of her first Love; I cannot forbear to beat my breast, and cry out, Ah! what pity it is, so fair a Flower should be lost to all Mankind, and wither for want of a hand to gather it? For, certainly, she poor Soul, devoting the disconsolate remainder of her days [Page 38] to solitude and Fidelity, will never be brought to listen after another for a Bridegroom; no, without doubt she will live and die a pure Virgin, and all the hopes she hath, are to contem­plate the honours reserved in the Eli­z [...]um, for such Maids as continue true to their depared Sweet-hearts; Nor are your Venetian-locks half so good sec [...]rity of her Chastity, as the memo­ry of the vows she made to the Person, to whom she once gave her Heart. Moreover, when I read those witty and elegant Writers, who have exercised their Pens in illustrating Femal Glories, in erecting Galleries of Heroical Women, and collecting Examples of their Con­stancy, Conjugal Love, and other Vir­tues; O! how am I delighted, how am I enflamed with Emulation of that ho­nour and esteem those Authors have purchased to themselves thereby! And, had my Stars been so propitious and bountiful to my Nativity, as to have inspired me with a competent portion of Wit, I should not have conceived a­ny Argument either so worthy in it self, or so agreeable to my Genius, as the Commendation of Ladies. And I shall not stick to confess to you, as my Friend, [Page 39] that once I had a design in my head, to have compiled a History of the Lives of Constant Wives and Mistresses: nor did any thing hinder my proceeding in that work, but the discouragement I re­ceived from the vast Multitude of them; I foresaw my whole Life would be too short but only to enumerate them, much more to give each one her due praises. So that you may well perceive, how irreconcileable an Antipathy I have to any such opinion, as derogates from the Honour due to the Immutabi­lity of that delicate and sweet Sex, which the kindness of Nature made for our Comfort, solace, and delight, and without the assistance of which we should fall short of doing that most ex­cellent Act, wh [...]ch witnesseth the per­fection of our Being, which makes us immortal in spite of Death, and brings us to some resemblance of the Divine original of all things. Let us, therefore, search for some other Cause (besides the Levity of Womans nature) to salve the adventure that hath befallen our Ephesian Matron.

To impute it to the force of the Wine the Souldier gave her, is to pass­by the Grand and Principal Agent, and [Page 40] rest in what was but an Accessory at most; to lay the whole weight of the wonder upon what seems to have had no more than a finger in it. For, first the Quantity she drank, though suffici­ent to renovate her spirits, cherish her vital warmth, and quicken the motion of her well-nigh congealed blood; was yet too little to intoxicate her brain, and enflame her to the height of desires so inconsistent, so repugnant to the frigid temper and low condition it found her in. And, as to the Quality of it; though good Wine be the Milk of Venus, and as subtle and powerful a be­trayer of Chastity, as a Nurse or Mid­wife, as Night, as Opportunity, yea as Gold it self, (which the Antients inti­mated in placing the Chappel of Venus behind the Temple of Bacchus; and Aristotle, in that speaking of Wine and Drunkenness in his third Problem, he toucheth upon Venery in his fourth: And is a chief reason why the Rhenish­wine Houses are so much frequented by our Gallants.) Yet doth it seldome work that effect, but where it meets with bodies predisposed to admit and concurre with its sprightly and height­ning influence. For, as all Natural A­gents [Page 41] have their power and energy li­mited by the capacity of the Patients, upon which they operate; so in par­ticular, Wine is not so universal an in­spirer of Amorous and hot inclinations, as not sometimes to meet with resi­stence and suppression, in persons of cold Temperaments, or chast Resolu­tions. And, therefore, whensoever it heateth and irritateth to Courtship, it doth not more than add some sparks to that inward Fire, which, however cun­ningly raked up in the ashes of apparent Modesty, was yet scorching before, and wanted not much of breaking forth in­to a furious Flame. So that our Matron having not enlarged her draughts be­yond the bounds of temperance and so­briety; and being by her long fasting, sorrow, and remaining in the cold, (all which are profest and irreconcilable E­nemies to Venus,) so debilitated, that we ought not to believe she had much of that fewell in her veins, which the spirits of Wine enkindle, when it pro­duceth that burning Appetite we are speaking of: It cannot consist with rea­son to aggravate her facility, by trans­ferring it wholly upon the innocent means of her refreshment and recov [...]ry.

[Page 42]To what then may this extrraordi­na [...]y accid [...]nt be referred? Why, in my judgment, to nothing so favorably and probably, as to the Author of so many wonderfull adventures, Love. For, though I will not undertake to ex­plain the mysterious nature of th [...]s Pas­sion, which all are subject to, and none clearly understand; and think it as well defined by him, who said, It is I know not what, which came in I know not whence, and went away I know not how; as by Socrates, who called it the Desire of Beauty; or, even by St. Thomas himself, who affi [...]med it to be, A complacency of the Appetite in th [...] thing which is lovely: Yet thus much I have learned from dear experience, that it is an imperious Passion, which, once entred upon the borde [...]s of the mind, instantly becomes a Tyrant, over-running all the facul­ties, subverting the Laws and govern­ment of Reason, and demolishing all the Fortresses, that either Wisdom or Mo­desty can raise against it▪ It is a kind of Magick, against which Nature hath gi­ven us no power of resistence; for, in­sinuating insensibly into the Soul, like a mask't enemy, it suddenly surpriseth and ta [...]es possession of all the strengths [Page 43] of it, and like a subtle poys [...]n, discovers not its entrance, till it be secure of con­quest. It proclaims war, and triumphs at once. It betrayeth us with secret compl [...]cency, and then hurrieth us to­ward ruine, which is the more inevita­ble, because we admit and suffer it with delight. Like the venomous Spiders of Calabria ▪ it destroys us with tickling, and making us dance. While we take it for a sweet and charming harmony, it seduceth us to great and dangerous dis­orders. It sco [...]neth the prevention of Prudence, and slighteth the preposses­sion of Grief. It grows more violent by opposition; Counsels do but heigh­ten its fury, and dangers and difficulties, like water poured upon wild-fire, en­crease the flames of it; and prohibition provokes it. Being once in love, we believe our desires cannot be noble, un­till they are extream; nor generous, u [...]less they be rash. The greatest, the wise [...]t, the most resolved spirits, have felt the force of it; nor is Ambition it self (esteemed Lord Paramount of all the Passions) able to contest with it, for absolute dominion over the soul. For an example of Wisdom, reflect on Solomon, who laid-b [...] all his divine Pre­cepts, [Page 44] and gave himself over to dotage upon Pharaoh's fair daughter: and up­on Appius Claudius, Decemvir of Rome, a Law-giver, and most austere man, who yet was transported to a mad de­gree of love. For one of Ambition, we have Marcus Antonius, half-partner of the great Empire, who in the Zenith of all his power and greatness, found the power of Cleopatra's beauty strong enough to make him her willing cap­tive. And for Resolution, we have the memorable confession of Lais, That she had more Philosophers, and those Stoicks too, her servants, than men of any other sort. Divine Plato (you may remember) confesses himself so passi­onately in love with his Archianassa, that forgetting his doctrine of Idea's, he knew none but that of her face: and the grave Stagirite sacrificed to his Herpelis, as to Ceres. But what need we these examples, to assure the ty­ranny of Love over even Heroical Minds, when the frequency of it hath given occasion to men to call it the Heroicall Passion: And when the antient Poets meant no other thing, by their fictions of the Amours of Iupiter and other Deities, but this, that Love ma­stereth [Page 45] the greatest and wisest men in the world. This considered, what wonder is it, if our Matron, a weak and frail Creature, being shot at by the winged Archer (whose Arrows have this Fa­culty, that they cure the Ulce [...]s of sor­row in a moment) and pierced to the quick, soon yielded up her self to be led captive among those many milli­ons that attend his triumphant Cha­riot? So that if this new Affection of hers be a Fault, certainly it is such a one as was not in her power to avoid; and all who understand the force of such secret flames, as we may believe she felt, will easily excuse.

Nor ought you to blame her for the Haste she made in the payment of that Homage, which all women owe, and first or last must pay to the Inspirer of such desires; since you know not what strong and pressing Arguments, and Motives the adventurous Souldier used to induce her to that dispatch:

and s [...]nce the wisest Women common­ly esteem those servants most valiant and worthy their favours, who are quickest in obtaining them: qui timi­dè rogat, docet negare. I am not igno­rant, there are a sort of Heretiques in Love, whose prize no pleasures that come easily; and think it below their Cou­rage to engarrison that Fort▪ whose Gates are thrown open at first sum­mons: as if Delight were the more gr [...]teful and transcendent for being diffi­cult and tedious in acquisition. But, our Matron was none of these. She was too Wise, too Masculine, to insist upon the nicety of a long Courtship, and thought not the way to oblige, was by delay. No, finding her defences weak, and the Besieger strong; she conceived she might make the better conditions, by how much the sooner she surrendred. Besides, Fortune had fai [...]ly given her an opportunity; and P [...]udence would not permit her to neglect it. There have been many memorable adven­tures in the World, in which, Time it self hath had a principal hand: and there are certain Fortunate and Criti­cal [Page 47] Minutes wherein many things are to be effected, that ever after are im­possible. Why then should this Wo­man be accused of extream Levity, on­ly for taking occasion by the Foretop, and, at si [...]st Encontre, making sure of what, perhaps, she otherways might have lost. When you are Hungry, and have good Meat before you; will you account it kindness in your Host, to de­tain you from eating, with tedious Ce­remonies, and long impertinent discours­es, till the dishes are grown cold and un­savory? What reason is there, then, that any one should think it so hainous an offence against the modesty of Wo­man-hood, that our Matron addressed her self to the satisfaction of an appe­tite as Natural, (and many times as im­patient of delay) as Hunger, as soon as fortune had proffered her the means wherewithal to do it? For my part, seri­ously (think others what they please) though I will not justifie the Act she did, yet I do not judge it to be the worse, because done so soon.

But, you (perhaps) may think, that I have cloathed the deformity of this Womans fact, in too favourable and plausible a dress of Phrase; ma­king [Page 48] king that Noble and Heroique passion, Love, to be the Cause of her so easie prostitution, which was, indeed, the meer and proper effect of a Carnal Ap­petite, or base and unbrideled Lust.

To this, therefore, I say; that not­withstanding the nice distinction, which Flattery hath imagined, betwixt Love and Lust; as if one were the genuine off­spring of the Mind alone; the other the spurious issue of the Body, which never intruded her self into the society of her Sister, without debauching and disho­nouring her Virgin and immaculate Nature: yet those unprejudicate En­quirers, who have searched deep e­nough into the Origine and essence of that desire of Conjunction in persons of different Sexes, or the Appetite of Male and Female each to other, which is generally understood to be Love, (for, we are not now upon the conside­ration of Amity, or Friendship) will not be easily perswaded, that there is any so great dissimilitude or Disparity be­twixt them, as that they may not be deduced from one and the same princi­ple, at least, that they can be divided. This, I presume, will be somewhat dist [...]steful to the pure and refined Di­sciples [Page 49] of the Platonique sect, who pro­fess to be ennamoured only on the beauties of the Soul, wholly rejecting all respects of flesh and blood, and en­tirely devoting their Courtship to con­template, and entranse themselves in admiration of the lovely Idea's of Vir­tue: nor will the Ladies (made, doubt­less of a mold much finer and less sul­phureous, than other courser Mortals are,) be well pleased to hear their sweet and cleanly Flames should be aspersed with the mixture of gross and sooty Exhalations, such as arise from ardors of the Body. And, therefore, Truth it self, (which I prefer to all other inte­rests) engageth me to assert this my opinion, and make it appear, that though it be a Paradox, yet it is high­ly Reasonable. Which that I may do, I aske leave to present you a Picture of Love in little, not copied from the de­scriptions of other mens Phansies, but drawn to the life from the very origi­nal of Nature, and (if I am not much mistaken) so full of true resemblances, that who so shall attentively contem­plate the same, will, I doubt not, esteem it as a piece, not altogether unworthy to be preserved in the Cabinet of their Memory.